Maniacal Joe and the Knuckle Ball

The house we rented had a pool table in the garage. A great place for the guys to hang out and drink some beer. The weather could have been warmer but it was much better than back home. Spring break in Florida is always better than being at home even if the weather isn't perfect. It was getting late and even though we were getting up early to golf, all three of us had thrown caution to the wind in an attempt to flush Ontario from our souls. We reached the point where we had solved most of the world's problems and Shawn and I had taken up an activity we had a number times before. I was standing at the end of the pool table zinging balls length wise and he was standing at the side of the table zinging them cross ways. The laws of physics and chaos demanded the balls periodically collide. There was a satisfying smack each time the balls connected and spun off at odd angles.

Joe stood there and watched. He had never seen this game before. He stood in silence for a time mesmerized by the action. A look came over him like Jack Nicholson in The Shining. You could tell he connected with it. There is something about this activity that appeals to men at a very basic level. It satisfies that juvenile urge for reckless and destructive activity. As he approached the table he had a complete connection with the feeling, a connection fueled by beer. He stepped up with a maniacal look on his face and let out a laugh like The Joker when he was about to spring a trap on Batman. The first ball he zinged was going 4 or 5 times faster than any other ball on the table. The sound of the smack reverberated throughout the garage and out into the street. That sound was the payoff he wanted as soon as he started watching. He redoubled his efforts and started sending pool balls down the table like a man possessed. With each hard snap of his arm he sent pool balls zinging down table to their potential doom. He was totally consumed by the feeling. Both Shawn and I observed that Joe had raised the game play to a whole new level by adding the element of danger, the final component required to achieve total juvenile satisfaction. When you put your hand down to zing a ball you had to be quick as there was lots of action on the table. Any of us could have stopped at any time. I could tell Joe was too far gone and there no chance he was going to stop. Both Shawn and I made comment about Joe's excessive enthusiasm but continued to participate. Pool balls were coming off the table and bouncing down the driveway. We just picked them up and kept going. 40 year old men acting like they're 12, go figure.

As you might imagine it did not end well. I was at the opposite end of the table from Joe and ended up receiving the damage that ended the fun. The end of one of my fingers got nailed first. No resounding smack just the end my finger getting in the way. There was no real injury so if anything it caused an increase in the fervor of the game. The fun ended when he got my knuckle. The spell had been broken.

  I was out for a run yesterday on the bike path at the Forks of the Thames when a Red Winged Blackbird swooped down and nailed me on the top of my head. He got me with both feet and pecked me with his beak. The little bugger nearly drew blood. After the attack he flew into a bush and squawked at me. It sounded like HAAA HAAA HA HA HA!!!!

  I kind of felt like Hunter S. Thompson when he drove to Las Vegas in his convertible and was attacked by giant bats.

  Contrary to some of my friend's accusations I did not wet my head and dip it bird seed prior to running, nor was I suffering from dehydration and imagined the entire event!

  

Fashion Rules for Runners

  

Today I went for a run wearing my wife beater shirt (I don't like t-shirt tans). I am still learning the rules of running fashion. Here is what I know so far:

1. If you are older than 21 years, wear a shirt.
   
2. If you wear $7 Walmart track pants while running in the winter you will get condescending looks from other runners who are wearing $300 running outfits.
   
3. The guy at the running store said he wouldn't be caught dead wearing orange or lime green running shoes.
   
4. I went shopping for running shorts and noticed they are all really long. They go down to just above the knee cap.  (my nickname this summer will probably be "white thigh")
   
5. Really short running shorts that are made of shiny satin like material and slit up the side to reveal your ass as you run in the wind are not cool. If fact they are kind of creepy.

  I know that rule #1 is a hard one. The idea of working on your tan and running at the same time is really tempting but its just too obnoxious. There are a couple of exceptions to this rule. If you are in super good shape, maybe you can do this, the younger you are the more likely you can pull it off.   You can also get away with running along the beach with no shirt. You don't even have to be in shape. 

  Women get special treatment when it comes to running fashion. Rule numbers 1 and 5 don't apply to them at all. I have noticed many women running with just a sports bra and short shiny material shorts. This is not only acceptable but in my mind encouraged. 

  The wife beater shirt may be a violation but that is a chance I am going to take to avoid a t-shirt tan. My understanding of running fashion is a 'work in progress'.  Wish me luck.

Trees, not as friendly as they seem

  I am suspicious of trees. I run past them every day. 

  A couple of weelks ago I was running down the sidewalk and went underneath a tree. A branch grabbed the toque right off my head. By chance a pick up truck containing a couple of construction workers drove by at that exact moment. The passenger climbed half out the window to yell a huge "HA HA". It sound almost exactly like Nelson from The Simpsons. I waved him the peace sign and continued on my way. 

  Today I was out running again and had another encounter. I was running past a tree with a broken branch. It grabbed the sleeve of my shirt hard enough to rip it and bring me to a stop. I stood there looking at my ripped shirt and looking at the tree. The tree didn't care. It almost looked happy about what it had done.

I am starting to wonder if  they resent me running everywhere while they have to stand still.  I will definetly be keeping my eye on them in the future.

Running in a Marathon

I went out for my run today. I run the same route pretty much every day. This morning when I came over the pedestrian bridge into Springbank park I found myself running on a Marathon route. I joined the route at about the 34 km mark. Most of the traffic was going the other way and would have been at approximately the 27 km mark. The people looked tired. They had already come 27 km's and had another 15 to go. I was only 3 kms into my run and was full of energy. Even though I did not have a number pinned on my shirt, people just assumed that I was part of the race. I was not immediatley aware of this situation but as I continued along and people on the side lines were clapping to encourage me as I went by, and I figured it out.

I had no choice but to take advantage of the situation. My stride increased, I sprang along with an abundance of energy and strength. I did my best to put on a show. I am not completely sure what people thought. The one's coming in the opposite direction almost appeared dismayed at their lack of energy and endurance. Here they are slugging along in pain and I go bounding by like tigger, even though as far as they know I have already run 7 kms more that they have.

I ran through crowds of clapping people, gaining energy from their addoration and enthusiasm. Then just out of site I ran up the stairs at the Guy Lombardo Bridge and continued my normal route home.

A most enjoyable run.