I wrote a song...now to find music.

If you know the poem from which I borrowed heavily the ideas from....you get bonus points...unless I have told you.  C2--I suspect you know this poem as well as I do.







Here it is in all its glory(?).  Be kind with your comments.



Uncertainty

I am uncertain
I have no clear path
No destination decided upon

The place I want to be is denied
The home I have is desolate and alone
The friends I have are far removed
They are in their homes and worlds away from me

How far away
How near the quay
I cannot tell for the fog too thick
The water still and silent
Night and day
Is there a homeland calling me
Is there a lighthouse to beckon me

My desired place is not for me to choose
It is left to someone else to decide
It is left to the person I desire most to pick
Life with me or life without me

I am lost at sea, and trying to stay afloat
The albatross around my neck was mine to pick
Chosen and borne until I solve my own riddle
And reach the shores of my homeland

How far away
How near the quay
I cannot tell for the fog too thick
The water still and silent
Night and day
Is there a homeland calling me
Is there a lighthouse to beckon me

My boat is small and my paddle lost
I am forced to propel the craft by hand
To push with cupped fingers the waters of my soul
To find the shores where I will be welcomed

How far away
How near the quay
I cannot tell for the fog too thick
The water still and silent
Night and day
Is there a homeland calling me
Is there a lighthouse to beckon me

How far away
How near the quay

Copywrite 4/19/2012  Nat Strickland

This page will be retired soon...mkII

I have been thinking about this for a while, and I have even told a few people I know that even though I have only been running races since December of 2009, I am going to retire after the Rock and Roll Portland Pikermi.  That race report will also be my last blog entry.  I will continue to write about my trials and tribulations of running (yeah, gonna keep on keeping on with that, just no more races) in a journal that will be kept by my bedside.  Another runner I know is working through some changes in his world, and I am as well.  I have re-opened comments for the next few posts, but you have until sometime in June before I close this thing down.  The only possible other race I might do, is the Hood to Coast, and that will be only if I can get on a team this year.  I am only giving myself this year to do it.  I will likely volunteer for races, as I think that is a great thing to do, but I am not going to lace up and run one after May 20th.  So to all of you that read my blog, I think that there are 7 of you left after the year I've had, I hope that your running goes well.  I will continue to read your blogs and comment from time to time, but blogging has become tied with some negative vibes in my world, and I need to end it.  And rather than do so with no explanation to the seven of you, I am posting this "goin' out of business" post.

Cheers.

editied to actually allow comments...oops.

Well that was fun?

Turns out, moving is bad for all of your activities.  Work, exercise, eating, sleeping, school, yeah, all of 'em.  I haven't run much in the last couple of months, and May 20 is not staying away, so I need to start back into the routine with vigor soon.  I have moved to a farm that has NO Internet access.




I'll wait while that sinks in.  NO INTERNET ACCESS.


Oh, and if you notice, there is a new activity up there...I'll let you find it.  I will need to work on getting access soon due to that new activity, but that will have to wait a little bit.  The move ate my meager reserves entirely.  I needed to get a heater for my room.  Sleeping in a hat is only fun for a couple of days.

Yoga kicks ass......mine

Damn. So I took a power yoga class last night. The last time I took yoga I was maybe 21.  It was taught by a hippy-yippy kinda teacher at the local community college.  It was fun, I guess. I remember taking it with a couple of people, women, I knew, and they were impressed that I could bend as far as I could.  Anyway, last night's class....yeah, not like that one.  The instructor is the owner of the studio, a cool hole-in-the-wall feeling place called, Yoga on Yamhill.  As Paul puts it, that is his apex of marketing genius.  "What do you do?" "Yoga." "Where are you?" "On Yamhill."  This was his class. We talked briefly before I headed to the changing rooms and emerged a few minutes later in sweats and a bamboo t-shirt.  This is important, because it was WAY too heavy for the class.

OK, so picking up from last night...sorry I fell asleep.  My clothes were definitely wrong for the class.  I will be wearing shorts with compression shorts under them next time.  They don't really have yoga pants for men, and I'm not that dedicated yet.  I am sold that this thing is a real workout though...man alive, my legs and back are still grumbling about it.  An hour of deep controlled breathing, with movements in sync with the breaths works for me, I do that when I am feeling out of sorts when running.  I even chuckled when he wanted us to "box our breathing"  In for a count of 4, hold for 4, out for 4, hold for 4, repeat.  This is hard to do when running, but, yeah, I do that too.  So this wasn't new to me.  What was was sitting in a squat position with my body twisting about for 3 minutes at a hit with each leg, or sitting in a lunge position while leaning backwards.  All in all, a definitely positive experience and one that I will be enjoying as life will allow.  Every Wednesdays looks like a doable trip for now.  My shirt at the end of class was dripping wet, and I was amazed and how wiped out I felt.  I was very glad for all the push-ups and crunches I have been doing.  I would have been toast going from a standing position down to a pushup position to the floor and then up to "cobra".  We did that about 100 times...arms are a little sore still.

Tuesday's Child

Mondays child is fair of face,
Tuesdays child is full of grace,
Wednesdays child is full of woe,
Thursdays child has far to go,
Fridays child is loving and giving,
Saturdays child works hard for his living,
And the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.

I was definitely NOT born on a Tuesday.  I know a marvelous person that was born on a Monday....and she certainly is.  Number 1 daughter WAS born on a Tuesday, and I am hoping that she fulfills that part of the poem. She is growing up rapidly--too rapidly for dad.  We really are like Steve Martin in "Father of the Bride".  Daughter number 2 was born on a Wednesday, and she is empathetic and feels everyone's pains and joys.  I adore that about her, she will be a gentle soul and an artist I am certain.  Number 3 daughter was also born on a Monday, and she too is as fair of face as one can hope a child of mine to be.  Fortunately, she got the looks from her mother, and her disposition is as sweet as her smile.  Number 4 daughter is a handful, and she and I share the day of the week.  Thursday.  Auspicious for a runner, and I can only hope that she is as busy as her nickname throughout her life and gets to where she is going.

I am feeling a little more like the Flogging Molly song below, than I am feeling bonny and gay.  It will be alright in the end.  I know I have a long road ahead, and I am working on finding the right shoes.

Well I know, I miss more than hit
With a face that was launched to sink
An' I seldom feel, the bright relief
It's been the Worst Day Since Yesterday

If there's one thing I have said
Is that the dreams I once had, now lay in bed
As the four winds blow, my wits through the door
It's been the Worst Day Since Yesterday

Fallin' down to you sweet ground
Where the flowers they bloom
It's there I'll be found

Hurry back to me, my wild calling,
It's been the Worst Day Since Yesterday

Though these wounds have seen no wars
Except for the scars I have ignored
And this endless crutch, well it's never enough
It's been the Worst Day Since Yesterday

Hell says hello, well it's time to I should go
To pastures green, that I've yet to see

Hurry back to me, my wild calling,
It's been the Worst Day Since Yesterday

Oh, I ran 4 miles this morning...I guess that is actually the point.  According to Nike, my 2011 stats show that I run on Tuesday mornings about 60% of the time, and almost always EARLY in the am.  Something about Tuesdays have always worked for me.  Guess I should just rename every day of the week Tuesday.

Sunday...

Wow, I can tell I spent a few weeks not running.  The six miles I was thinking I should be able to do; yeah, I got through four.  I was tired--staying up to 4:00am shouldn't have hurt, right? I am a little out of shape--I blame the barefoot fad.  And together they combined to beat me down.  I got to the corner where I could keep going and do 6.5 miles or turn and do 4, I was gassed and turned.  I had a mile left, and got through it and felt like I had just summited Mt. Washington.  We shall see what this week has in store, but I am going to add yoga to the mix on Wednesday.  Tonight is weights and crunches. I'll be sore tomorrow, but it is getting better.

Bag that barefoot stuff

For now anyway.  I looked at the calendar and kinda freaked.  I have only a little over 15 weeks to get ready for the inaugural Rock & Roll Portland Pikermi.  OK, so they don't call it that, they use the OLD term, HALF marathon...like a 5K is a HALF 10K.  Anyway, I realized that I need to just get back into my Pegs and get some real miles in, so I went out the door this crisp morning and knocked out a quick 4 miles.  I don't know how long it took, I ran with just the radio on, and didn't even check to see when I left or when I got back.  I don't care, it doesn't matter.  I think I might do the next 16 weeks just like today.  It doesn't matter. I get up at 4:00 and get out the door when I do, and get back in when I do.  This might be just what the doctor ordered. (No really, I'll ask her on Thursday) I'm betting she will be on board with this from a mental health stance.  It is funny that when I don't run, I don't feel like doing crunches, or push-ups or lifting weights, so this will be a very intense 16 weeks.

Zombie Survival Training Camp starts today.  Ask yourself, are you a "Zombie Killer"? Or are you Zombie Filler?  Rule number 1 is Cardio, so I have to get back to where I was a few months ago.  Along with that, I want to be lean and lithe, so the crunches and push-ups and dumb bell drills will all start in earnest.