They were playing Friday nights at this Hillsboro club and the band had
been burning through bass players for a few weeks before I joined the chaos.
<< MORE >>
I've had some of my best nights sleep at above 6000 feet in the mountains. Where the atmosphere is thin and I find I can sleep very well on a slim foam pad, my tent pitched near a cold glacial Circ. Dreams seem so accessible when they are dreamed in a place nearly touching the stars. The night's sounds are always friendly and no one is near with the exception of my climbing buddies. This is truly a good nights sleep.
Serving me to sleep well are the day's exertions; climbing into the heavens with a heavy pack or running around the ridges in the high country, looking down into valleys yet unexplored. Just about everything we do at that altitude we do to survive. We filter water, we find good camping, wash if we can and cook in tiny pots our essential daily ration. All of these routine tasks are done with exultation as everywhere we look we see high mountain peeks, deep green heather and ancient baked granite. Many of the things we touch through the course of our chores has never been touched by people before, many of the things we see are seldom seen, everything we do feels unique and enriching, it keeps the heart pumping and frees the soul from the mundane things that occur daily in the lower altitudes. As a result, when it comes time to sleep it's a very welcome respite, and we sleep well.
The high country above 5000 feet is a magical place. This is where trees are stunted and heather is preferred over grass. Not much of either of these things grow here however. The air is thin, the soil non-existent and the wind does as it will. Snow packs deep at this altitude in the winter and hides the tiny lakes and rugged scree. The feeling is that this is a place seldom visited by people or animals, those that come are just moving through, transients on the way to their next valley or new hunting ground. It's the high traverse, special in it's altitude and solitude, rare in it's emptiness. Here is peace and beauty of a grand scale. The simplicity of the high country seems to heighten the senses, clear the mind of chaff and elate the soul. To sleep in the high country is to dream of things yet unseen, look forward rather than back, believe rather than to reconcile. Nights are rejuvenating.
People ask me why I climb mountains expecting an easy short answer. I like to think I do it because that's where I live. Down here my heart beats, my job engages me, my work, friends and family share with me and keep me smiling. But it's up on the mountain that I live really. That's where my perspective on the world was formed, that's where I feel truly free and that's where I find self awareness. Up on the mountain I stop to measure my life, I hold a days work in a single view and I feel accomplishment in all of life's pursuits. If you have to ask why I climb mountains you probably aren't going to understand the answer. If I tell you it's to get a good nights sleep you'll probably think I'm being smug. If I told you because they are there you would feel cheated of a real answer - and you would be. I climb mountains because it is a metaphor for life. We are all climbers and we all will get our day of rest in the high country. I get my best night's sleep there.
We live but a few minutes on this earth compared to the span of all of
humankind. We have great expectations for those few minutes; make the world
a better place, enrich others lives, raise the young (ours and others), be
endearing. But only a few minutes really isn't enough time to do it all to
any great effect. We've got to be happy with our lot in life and then
again, we don't. We spend much of our life in between these 2 states. We
seek to make the world better for being here and at the same time we're
learning to accept what we've been given to work with.
Combine with this the mundane day to day routine of getting up and going to
work, commuting, cleaning the dishes, moving the furniture, unpacking the
groceries, and you have the big picture. Here we are, this is our
life. What's
for dinner? What time do I set the alarm for? I think I need to clean the
windows.
Death comes knocking, shrinking our participation with people one by one
until those that are most successful, those of us who live a long time, are
left alone. Living long is not for the weak of heart. We will outlive our
pets many lives over. We will outlive our parents, our mentors and our
teachers. If we are really successful we will outlive our friends, our
siblings, and all of those we love the most. Wishing someone a long life is
really a curse. We have to endure a life that's lived long as much as we
have to somehow reconcile our shortcomings and still find peace and a reason
to smile. The passing of a friend tells us seriously; "Prepare for a long
life but don't expect it to happen."
So we grieve. It's a selfish act grievance. We think of how we're going to
miss the person that passed. We think of how empty our lives are without
that person. How will we go on without their voice on the phone, their
cute innuendos, their soft sighs or strong words. We think about us when
the other person passes. We grieve for our loss even though we really are
the ones stuck holding out against the onslaught of time - unforgiving time
that will one day take us too, sweeping us away after our few minutes of
life.
We can hope that others will grieve our loss. We can hope that we don't
live so long as to be useless or an imposition and that we are still loved
when we go. It's a small desire but we have to work for it. We have to
spend time in life making the world better in what ways we can. We need to
be happy (to the best of our ability) with our lot in life so we can be an
asset to our friends. That sometimes means we have to tell them we don't
agree with their actions. It sometimes means we have to be the voice of
reason, and the news is not always well received at first. But over the
course of time we have to live with our words after our loved ones are gone..
That is the burden of living long. We have to remember what we said. Those
that pass sure aren't going to have use for our words anymore.
The lucky really die young. The flame that burns twice as bright burns only
half as long. The long lived, methodical, careful, reasonable people burn
their lives carefully and watch those bright flames go out around them.
Maybe it's the lucky people that live life to it's fullest and are gone in a
flash. Maybe this long lived, carefully prescribed life is just a life of
increasing pain, increasing toil, and withering dreams? Why should we have
to endure, when some of those we've loved have gone so quickly, often
choosing death at their own will?
It goes back to what our lives are about. We live long because we are doing
good; making the world better in any way we can, every day trading our lot
in life with the greater good we can produce. Life ain't often easy but it
can be rewarding in spite of the pain.
Well it's a brand new year and I just wanted to spend a couple of minutes talking to those people who sign up every year at the gym as part of a New Year's resolution to get fit. First let me tell you newbies that you're most likely not going to last. You're going to go at training all wrong, over do it and hurt yourselves. Those of you that make it to the ides of March will be bored by the sameness of the routine and will be lucky to have not injured yourselves. Those that make it to the summer will start exhibiting chronic injuries and will soon be too hurt or too discouraged to continue.
You're essentially doomed so please don't waste your time. People who know what they are doing are patiently waiting to use the equipment and they will be seasoned enough to know to put the weights back and clean the sweat off the machines when they are done. But thanks for paying the gym all that money. It helps pay for the hot water and new equipment.
Seriously just a few things can really help if you're just starting out. So let me fill you in so you have a chance of making it for the first year. Chances are if you can hang for a year, you'll start getting good results and you will be feeling the change. So listen up newbie's:
1.. Get some training. No you don't have to sign up with Buffy and her $300 workout program. Your junior college has a good program and is only about 60 to 70 bucks. You can also get a book. There are many good books on strength training, cardio training and stretching. Note: Getting your buddy from Wrestling team in the 10th grade to spot you is not the same as having a trainer. But if you learn some good stuff be sure to share it with him.
2.. Yes you need cardio. You want to be another fat guy with big arms? No one will even notice you went to the gym. Get 12 to 30 minutes of cardio for every strength workout you do. A strong heart and lungs is the core of a strong body.
3.. Yes sit-ups. Crunches, inverted hangs, whatever you do, just get some strength in your core. No sit-ups won't "burn fat" off of your midsection. If you want be thinner do cardio. But if you're lifting 50 to a hundred pounds and you have flabby stomach muscles you are just asking to screw up your back. Build from the ground up buttercup don't put it all on your poor spine to take the weight.
4.. Start small. Don't rush out to the weight room and pick up the heaviest dumbbell you can lift and start swinging it around. Work in a comfortable weight zone. Lift and carefully lower the weight through full the range described in training. Do three sets of 8 to 12 repetitions. The same with cardio: Start at about 12 minutes and slowly bring up the speed and length of time. The same for all cardio trainers, stair steppers, treadmills, cycles and rowers. Ease into it, set the machine below halfway and see what you can easily do before you start ramping it up.
5.. Unless you want that fresh "I never worked out a day in my life" look, go for sustainable workouts, ones you can repeat every other day. If you get up the next day and you hurt like hell you've overdone it. You've also just convinced yourself that working out hurts and eventually your body is going to win the argument that you should not do things that hurt. My motto: no pain - good! A good workout should have you feeling a little stiff once in awhile, but you'll be back. I've been in the gym over 2 years now and I've seen hundreds of people come and go and I can count on my 2 hands the number of people who still are there.
6.. Lastly, do it for you. Quit looking in the mirror you dumb poser, everybody just thinks you're an egotistical nut bag. Breath the air, feel the movements and try to understand the muscles you're using when you lift, (or run, bike, push, pull etcetera). The next time you move the sofa to vacuum or climb a ladder think about how much easier it is because you spent some time in the gym. That's the payoff. Trying to out macho the other guys at the gym by picking up too large a weight just makes you look like a fat undertrained dork. The pay off is personal. Recognize that and you will be a pleasant person in and out of the gym and your workouts will have a big effect on your self esteem.
Well I lost many readers with the third paragraph because they saw on the internet that they could be ripped and get that great 6 pack in only 3 weeks if they took a drug or did 3 easy workout recommendations (purchased for about 20 to 30 bucks). Good luck with that guys. Did you notice that the before and after examples of guys who did this were both equally as unpleasant before they got "ripped" as they were after? Somehow going from an angry marshmallow to an even angrier looking injured guy with a six pack set of abs really sort of misses the point doesn't it? Unless your goal is to be an evil man in a mask on the WWF channel, and those guys on WWF have real muscle tone and they'll kick your ass if you tell them you drank Bob's Super Goo to get muscles, just on basic principle. If it's too good to be true, it probably is.
Good luck. See you at the gym, and puh-lease, will you put the damn weights back on the rack when you're done? Your mama doesn't work here.
I go to the gym. It's warm there, the lighting is great and there are things to do and plenty of hot water. I run on the tread mill and do strength training on alternate days. I had some training on how to lift weights and how to run in junior college. I remember those torturous days fondly now that I use exercise as an escape. I also specifically use that training to keep from hurting myself while I stay somehow miraculously active.
Since the things I do for fun all require getting out doors and being active and strong, my hours at the gym keep me ready for having some fun. I have an iPod that plays podcasts and lots of inspiring music and the surroundings are now familiar to me and somewhat comforting. But let me tell you there are some really odd ball people there. I'm sometimes astounded by the kookiness. Here are a couple of the characters I've "Met":
Blow Dry Man
This guy is hairy, has a beard and is a nice noble shade of grey all over. I have no idea what his workout is. I've never seen him but in the locker room drying off his entire body with a blow dryer. Think of Santa Klaus but with no red suit or pointy hat or towel or well, any clothes at all. He blow dries his entire body. I think he has a membership just to save electricity. He's got to be losing that in burned out hair dryers though...
Bad Work Out Guy
Well there are many of these guys. They all sign up on January 1 and are mostly gone by the end of March. They are a chiropractor's dream these guys. But the guy I'm thinking of in particular is a tall thin African American Man who over extends himself on the stretching machine then when he's hurting real bad he goes to the weight room and picks up the heaviest weights he can lift. The rest of his workout consists of swinging these around, very little actual lifting occurs, then he slams them down with a grunt. He started out with a knee brace on one knee, now he has stretch bandages on almost everything that we can pull one over. He hurts so bad putting on his shirt after a shower I hurt for him. Come to thing of it I have not seen him for awhile..
80s Guy
His hair is perfect, combed up to a top-of-the-head wave, he wears his T shirt tucked into his shorts and he checks these 2 things frequently to be sure he's got them just so. His work out is carefully measured to be sure he doesn't sweat - I even heard him convincing another member of the gym that sweating is bad! 80s Guy always looks good, if it were indeed 1985 anyway. Fortunately he only sees himself in the mirror so he's totally unaware that fashion, even in the gym, has changed in 25 years. Yes, 80s Guy is sometimes there with his girl friend, she's right out of a Flock of Seagulls video and she also follows the rigid, never sweat at the gym philosphy too.
More than a year has passed since you left the world. Your obituary is gone from the local news paper. Your room is occupied by a young grad student and your former roommate has packed and gone to Chicago to continue her work as a biologist and farmer. It would seem to be a good time to let you go now. Although I came late to the story of Danielle maybe I should move on?
I hold in my possession just a few of the things you left and only a thin piece of other peoples memories about your time in this world. But Danielle your death triggered a chain of events that greatly effected my life. We hold a very near and dear friend in common. People who know little of you, know you from my writings now and they know just how my life will never be the same.
I cooked once for the caterer you once cooked for. I heard your name muttered quietly in the back kitchen; "If only Danni were here", or "Danni would love that." I meet more and more the people you used to hang around with. I jog down the streets you used to jog, walk across your old living room and smell the same smells of spring you did as they waft through your room. Your friends use your car now and it's still parked out front of the house from time to time. Plants you used to own still grow here where you used to live. You somehow can't be gone from this world entirely as things you arranged remain in the same familiar pattern.
Sleeping at night just across the hall from your old room, your ghost does not haunt me Danni, but images of your life do. I own the picture called "The Hug" which you held so dear. I see you, through others eyes, running down the hill, playing the guitar, smiling in the sun. Your picture may be gone from the fridge, your guitar from the bedroom, and your body from this world, but I still look for you. I still wonder and I still think how different things would have been with you still here. I am in a strange place, not bemoaning your loss but being appreciative of your existence. Usually when people meet they are, after all, both alive. Yet we've never met in that sense. I know you and wonder how things would have been had you known me.
If you had lived longer, would we have ever met you and I? Well, maybe in some way I guess we did meet. It was a chance encounter. I experienced you as a memory and you will only know me from what I tell others of you. Maybe you are gone in some ways Danni, but I will always know you and be grateful for it.
I find it hard to absorb the obvious evidence of the lack of water. But it sure hits home when I go out for a jog and the air is so full of smoke that my eyes tear up. I very quickly call it a day and give up on the jog. Back in the house I get a drink from a water jug that's delivered by a truck twice a month because the tap water is sulfuric and therefore undrinkable. Now the Hanford locals are worried about fertilizer pollutants from decades of farming. We drink water from someplace else.
<< MORE >>
This is not the rain. This is not the rain that I knew before. This is not that warm wet shower from the skys of scattered white clouds. It is not the salty clear waters that dappled my freckled face like tears. This is not that rain. This rain falls coldly on a noisy land, on dead fallen leaves of unnatural color. It clogs the drains and turns the ground black with a stain so dark no light returns. This rain is not that rain I know, it comes from another land and another time. Not my time. Not any time that I can foresee or recall. Not my land, not the land where I was born, the land I learned to touch or the land I can see in my minds eye. Yet this thing called rain continues. It is endless and for days. It is bitter and darkening. But this is not the rain.
The presence of 20 safety boats, dive teams and increased marine patrols to enforce the closure of the river is not increasing safety at all. It is an insult. Turning the Willamette River into cordoned off area protected by armed public officials to be used exclusively by private individuals for their exclusive pleasure should not be the function of the Oregon State Marine Board or any marine board or public agency. << MORE >>
