Krypton and Kedron have a lot of the same letters. I say that for a reason that I'll reveal shortly. First a quick update. Benn is in Charlotte training for the US Olympic Team Trials which will be held there April 12th through 14th. Davis set a school record in the Hammer at University of Illinois. Those two public service announcements are actually a good lead in to an explanation of the initial reference.
While Benn was living at home and paddling whitewater slalom, I also got a beat up old boat and started racing too. Then while Davis was home and making heavy stuff land great distances from a ring, I also picked that up. Consequently Addie has been asking me for some time now when I would start swimming with her. I finally ran out of excuses.
Yesterday Addie took me to swim at the Krypton Fieldhouse Swimming Pool. People who are from that planet seem to flourish there. There was a guy in the lane next to us who was high in the water, making strokes with very little effort, looking ridiculously smooth and swimming so fast I think I could have water skied behind him. It didn't work like that for me.
Coach Addie told me that my warm up consisted of 100 free and 50 kick. That's Kryptonese for 4 laps swimming freestyle, which is the only style I know anyway. Then two laps just kicking while holding on to the floatie thingy, which turns out to be called a kick board. Technically I never actually finished the warm up. I did okay on the 100 free.
When it came time to do the 50 kick, I grabbed the flo... um kick board and shoved hard off the wall, feeling the swift flow of water over my body. I kicked like a mad man. I worked it hard and fast. I gave it everything I had. I just knew I was keeping up with Addie. After all I am much taller and stronger. Quickly however I lost touch with the swift water feeling around my body. Remembering I had on goggles I decided to open my eyes and look. I couldn't tell much. I'm not used to looking at the pool bottom through goggles. We don't do that on my planet. I just kept kicking hard with determination. I was sort of surprised to see a tadpole swimming on the bottom nearly matching my pace.
After a few more kicks I realized that the black spot wasn't a tadpole after all, and I had been looking at it since I first opened my eyes. I wasn't moving. I was getting a great cardio workout. I don't remember ever feeling like I was sweating in water before, but there you have it. The Krypton Pool might as well have been 25 miles long instead of 25 yards. I wasn't getting there.
Coach Addie insisted that we try it again, and again, and again until I finished. I didn't finish. It's going to take a while I think. She did finally decide we should move on though. We moved on to something easy, Butterfly. Swimming is about as natural to me as flying. I have just as many wings as I have gills, just as many feathers as scales. Swimming Butterfly is probably slightly harder than when Icarus flew too close to the sun. And that kick, Dolphin Kick? I don't even eat Dolphin. Why would I try to kick like one. I did make a little progress when Coach Addie told me my butt needs to breathe during the dolphin kick. I didn't quite get what she meant but I was glad she understood that some part of me needed to breathe. My shabby butt was hanging on the side of the pool huffing and puffing after every lap.
Coach Addie is pretty good. She did help me as much as I am probably capable of being helped. She really has to correct one flaw in her coaching however. She stopped me once to give a pointer before I finished a lap. I stopped to listen quickly realizing I was in the deep end well over my head and completely done in with not much chance of restarting now. I starting seeing the bright light. Do you have any idea how hard it is to walk to the end of the pool on the bottom when you're butt is dying for air? She should probably let me get to the end of the pool before coaching.
I have to finish and just say next week we're going to work on freestyle and breast stroke. I promised her one day a week. I can't type much more today though because my arms are cramping and I have to stop to rest every few words. I have a plan for the warm up next week though. I'm going to take a belt and tie on a couple of extra floatie thingies.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Citius Altius Fifty-ish
I don't know how many of you are familiar with the phrase Citius, Altius Fortius. It is in fact the Olympic motto and is Latin for faster higher stronger. Since I mentioned the Olympics, I suppose by now that everybody knows Benn won the Pan Am Games and thereby qualified a C1 slot for Team USA in the Olympics. First box checked. Now he needs to win the spot for himself. Stay tuned.
That is not actually why I mentioned the Olympic motto. I did so to lead into what I did this past weekend. I went to the USA Track and Field Masters National Indoor Meet. The motto there is somewhat different depending on who you ask. Some will say it is, "Slower, Lower Weaker." Others say, "Older Slower Lower." Either way it is the perfect motto for a track meet where you might see studly thirty year old competitors who could have even competed in Olympic trials four years ago. Then in the very next competition you might see ninety year olds who...well...probably didn't.
I have a 72 year old friend who throws in almost every throwing event. She has a 93 year old friend who throws at least the shot put. I know because I saw her set a US National Age group record. I also watched a group of six 80 to 84 year old men get down in the starting blocks for a 60 meter dash. Just as I was wondering if they would be able to get up, the gun sounded and they made their way at various speeds to the finish line. I have to admit that the photo finish between the two leaders was pretty exciting and way faster than I would have guessed. I find that more than interesting, maybe even inspiring, but not the best part of the meet.
The best part of the meet is that I, at 53 years old, can surround myself with serious competitors in a variety of events, not just how fast is your 5k time. I train. I learn new skills and new events. I go to compete, and I am serious about it. Did you suppose the fire in my kids bellies was spontaneous combustion? Let me put that notion to rest. My kids were raised on the sparks of their parent's competitive embers which may have cooled a bit over the years but now that I have found track and field heaven, will never die. And I would not be able to rest if I didn't mention here that they got a double dose. I am no more competitive than Marsha, although she has yet to bring home three medals from nationals. Oops, there goes that competitiveness again.
Marsha went with me and was my wing man. We had a great time. She even gave me some coaching during the 25 pound weight throw. She at one point gave me the following technical advice, "Get your head out of your ^$$ and throw it farther." And I did. That's my girl.
I didn't bring home any gold. Maybe next year. I took silver in both the 25 pound weight throw and the 56 pound weight throw and I took bronze in the shot put. I heard a phrase while I was getting warmed up for the 56 pound weight throw. Somebody reminded a friend that, "At your age there is a brief window between warmed up and worn out." When all my good throws turned out to be in the warm up and I could barely lift my arms for the competition throws, I realized what he meant. I pretty much shattered the window with my warm up throws. Lesson learned, don't warm up for the 56 pound weight throw.
Here's the cool thing though so that I leave you with some understanding. One guy threw the shot almost 2 meters farther than I did, but I encouraged him to throw farther. Another guy got ahead of me with a 13.15m throw. I answered and jumped ahead of him into second place with 13.19m. He followed with a 13.18m throw. All the while we encouraged each other and both worked hard to win. He finally put it away with a 13.5m pop that I had to be proud of him for. Afterwards we introduced our families. How cool is that? Two guys in their 50s can compete very seriously with each other. I can't say I loved finishing third, but it could have been worse. I can say that I loved competing with that guy and hope to see him next year. The same goes for those other guys in all three events. I have a renewed passion for competition.
So do you think that Benn will have enough Fraker mojo to carry him through what he has to do over the next few months? The spark is there. It all comes down to keeping his head out of his ^$$.
That is not actually why I mentioned the Olympic motto. I did so to lead into what I did this past weekend. I went to the USA Track and Field Masters National Indoor Meet. The motto there is somewhat different depending on who you ask. Some will say it is, "Slower, Lower Weaker." Others say, "Older Slower Lower." Either way it is the perfect motto for a track meet where you might see studly thirty year old competitors who could have even competed in Olympic trials four years ago. Then in the very next competition you might see ninety year olds who...well...probably didn't.
I have a 72 year old friend who throws in almost every throwing event. She has a 93 year old friend who throws at least the shot put. I know because I saw her set a US National Age group record. I also watched a group of six 80 to 84 year old men get down in the starting blocks for a 60 meter dash. Just as I was wondering if they would be able to get up, the gun sounded and they made their way at various speeds to the finish line. I have to admit that the photo finish between the two leaders was pretty exciting and way faster than I would have guessed. I find that more than interesting, maybe even inspiring, but not the best part of the meet.
The best part of the meet is that I, at 53 years old, can surround myself with serious competitors in a variety of events, not just how fast is your 5k time. I train. I learn new skills and new events. I go to compete, and I am serious about it. Did you suppose the fire in my kids bellies was spontaneous combustion? Let me put that notion to rest. My kids were raised on the sparks of their parent's competitive embers which may have cooled a bit over the years but now that I have found track and field heaven, will never die. And I would not be able to rest if I didn't mention here that they got a double dose. I am no more competitive than Marsha, although she has yet to bring home three medals from nationals. Oops, there goes that competitiveness again.
Marsha went with me and was my wing man. We had a great time. She even gave me some coaching during the 25 pound weight throw. She at one point gave me the following technical advice, "Get your head out of your ^$$ and throw it farther." And I did. That's my girl.
I didn't bring home any gold. Maybe next year. I took silver in both the 25 pound weight throw and the 56 pound weight throw and I took bronze in the shot put. I heard a phrase while I was getting warmed up for the 56 pound weight throw. Somebody reminded a friend that, "At your age there is a brief window between warmed up and worn out." When all my good throws turned out to be in the warm up and I could barely lift my arms for the competition throws, I realized what he meant. I pretty much shattered the window with my warm up throws. Lesson learned, don't warm up for the 56 pound weight throw.
Here's the cool thing though so that I leave you with some understanding. One guy threw the shot almost 2 meters farther than I did, but I encouraged him to throw farther. Another guy got ahead of me with a 13.15m throw. I answered and jumped ahead of him into second place with 13.19m. He followed with a 13.18m throw. All the while we encouraged each other and both worked hard to win. He finally put it away with a 13.5m pop that I had to be proud of him for. Afterwards we introduced our families. How cool is that? Two guys in their 50s can compete very seriously with each other. I can't say I loved finishing third, but it could have been worse. I can say that I loved competing with that guy and hope to see him next year. The same goes for those other guys in all three events. I have a renewed passion for competition.
So do you think that Benn will have enough Fraker mojo to carry him through what he has to do over the next few months? The spark is there. It all comes down to keeping his head out of his ^$$.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Nerd
I'm a nerd. Yes it's true. Nerds come in a variety of types and some of us are not as obvious as others. I for instance may be among the more subtle ones. It's not because I was a math major in college. It's not because my job is in Information technology. It's not because I carry two cell phones almost all the time and one is in a case on my belt. It's not because I am excited about my daughter being involved in Science Olympiad. It's not because I'll happily sacrifice a night out with the guys from work to come home and play angry birds with Addie.
I don't know how to write this but there is or should be a brief pause here as I adjust to the shock of discovery that I'm not subtle after all. I'm eat up with nerdiness. "Eat up with" is a southern redneck phrase meaning consumed with or totally committed to. Example uses are; my house is eat up with termites (not really). My sister is eat up with the idea of growing her own organic food (really).
At any rate you may be wondering why I brought up my nerdiness. Last night we were visiting my sister and Davis called. My brand new refurb IPhone 4 which I am still learning how to use chirped with the cricket ring tone I've chosen. Since we were at Debbie's house he wanted to see the house and see everybody and see the baby chickens, ducks and guineas that Debbie is raising in the house (she's a nerd too). So he said, "Give me a minute to put some pants on and we can face time." I didn't think about the pants thing until later when it became clear that he was calling from the locker room. At any rate the face time thing was a fail on my phone. I still don't know why, but it worked on Marsha's phone. At the time I took that to mean I'm not eat up with nerdiness. You have born witness to the changing of that tide.
I got an email from Benn this morning. That's on the other phone, the Blackberry. No I don't plan to receive my email on the iPhone to combine the two. We've already established who I am. Benn is in Brazil. This trip is for a race that an American has to win. Winning this race means the US will have a C1 Olympic slot. Not winning means no American goes to the Olympics in C1. Of course Benn wants to be that American who qualifies the spot. Assuming an American wins this race, the next big race will be for the Americans to compete to see who gets to fill the slot.
I saw the red flashy light on the blackberry while I was washing the dishes and grabbed it to find an email from Benn. I sat down and answered his email. He's probably thinking what a nerd I am for answering so quickly.
Benn has a week to go in Brazil. It's not the fun Brazil on the east coast. It's the rain forest jungle Brazil on the west side. There is a job to do and Benn went there to do it. Sounds harsh and surprising for a guy who does his thing paddling a canoe, but that is truly how it is this time. I am confident that he can get the job done, but I, the nerd, am keeping both phones close while he's gone to make sure I don't miss a word of news that I might be able to get while he's there. I sort of hope though he doesn't try to face time with me till I get that figured out.
I don't know how to write this but there is or should be a brief pause here as I adjust to the shock of discovery that I'm not subtle after all. I'm eat up with nerdiness. "Eat up with" is a southern redneck phrase meaning consumed with or totally committed to. Example uses are; my house is eat up with termites (not really). My sister is eat up with the idea of growing her own organic food (really).
At any rate you may be wondering why I brought up my nerdiness. Last night we were visiting my sister and Davis called. My brand new refurb IPhone 4 which I am still learning how to use chirped with the cricket ring tone I've chosen. Since we were at Debbie's house he wanted to see the house and see everybody and see the baby chickens, ducks and guineas that Debbie is raising in the house (she's a nerd too). So he said, "Give me a minute to put some pants on and we can face time." I didn't think about the pants thing until later when it became clear that he was calling from the locker room. At any rate the face time thing was a fail on my phone. I still don't know why, but it worked on Marsha's phone. At the time I took that to mean I'm not eat up with nerdiness. You have born witness to the changing of that tide.
I got an email from Benn this morning. That's on the other phone, the Blackberry. No I don't plan to receive my email on the iPhone to combine the two. We've already established who I am. Benn is in Brazil. This trip is for a race that an American has to win. Winning this race means the US will have a C1 Olympic slot. Not winning means no American goes to the Olympics in C1. Of course Benn wants to be that American who qualifies the spot. Assuming an American wins this race, the next big race will be for the Americans to compete to see who gets to fill the slot.
I saw the red flashy light on the blackberry while I was washing the dishes and grabbed it to find an email from Benn. I sat down and answered his email. He's probably thinking what a nerd I am for answering so quickly.
Benn has a week to go in Brazil. It's not the fun Brazil on the east coast. It's the rain forest jungle Brazil on the west side. There is a job to do and Benn went there to do it. Sounds harsh and surprising for a guy who does his thing paddling a canoe, but that is truly how it is this time. I am confident that he can get the job done, but I, the nerd, am keeping both phones close while he's gone to make sure I don't miss a word of news that I might be able to get while he's there. I sort of hope though he doesn't try to face time with me till I get that figured out.
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