We all long for it, we all need it, yet we forget that it is not a given. It must be earned. Rest and Relaxation are a reward, not an entitlement. I rest only after I have put my miles in. Resting before I put my miles in can often lead to slacking, and that is just not an option. I know, I know, you do not have to be so serious about the running, but sorry, where the passion nestles the fury thus flies. Without the compulsion the journey somehow has less meaning and impact. The Chef who produces a meal without his inner zeal looks for work elsewhere. I will fully rest a day or two after the 8 Tuff Miles race that is coming up this Saturday, the one I will run in 68 minutes or less if I have the kind of day I have trained for and have focused on, well deserved rest as I will push my body and soul like I have never pushed them before. I am on a mission to challenge myself to becoming a better and stronger runner. The sooner I can get to the finish line the better as I also enjoy seeing other runners enter the racing chute and complete their convictions.
R n' R , Right and Wrong, Reading and Arithmetic, the cornerstones and foundations of our children's trek into the world of adulthood. As responsible adults who have chosen to have kids, it is our mandated undertaking to steer them in the direction of a better world. It is beyond my wildest comprehension that so many people think we can accomplish this by LITERALLY beating them. A child does not have the physical or mental capacity to challenge their abusers and thus the ignorance of the perpetrators of Corporal Punishment think that their ways are working. My son loves to chew sugarless gum, he is ardent about it. I am going to start to save all those pieces of chewed gum as a reminder of the unenlightened masses that believe in this band aid approach, this gum in the dike solution of correcting the behavior that us adults have deemed unacceptable. Please note that I understand children need guidance and discipline and that they are no better than what we nurture them towards and teach them. I am raising a son who has never been stricken by me or his mother. Perhaps our attempts at discipline will not produce the swift results that the paddles and beatings produce, but I can assure you that the patience in our approach will yield hundred fold results over the barbaric and archaic practices of Corporal Punishment that is rampant in our society at large. It is very similar to compounding interest in the world of finance. Put a little in now and reap the benefits for decades to come. Teach them that conflict resolution does not have to entail violence and you will be rewarded with a young adult that can navigate their way through society with the tools that are necessary for their survival in a convoluted world. . Many of you reading this know me quite well and are probably thinking I am being hypocritical here. I actually have to agree on some level. I have had a very violent upbringing that has resulted in me resorting, at times, to violence to resolve certain situations or at least propagating it as a means of outcome. I have often gone the way of Machiavelli or LaVey. I make no excuses for my actions nor do I ask for your understanding or forgiveness. I am Guilty as charged. Our lives are works in progress. We can all choose our paths. We can right our wrongs most of the time. We most certainly can break the destructive cycles that cripple our families and society for generations upon generations. So that is my answer to my own hypocrisy. Break the f@#%ing cycle once and for all. I am living proof that striking a child has tremendous negative ramifications on one's life during childhood and beyond. Our children deserve better and it is time we joined the rest of the world in banning Corporal Punishment once and for all.
R n' R, reasoning and resolution, the path to a better outcome for our disagreements. The future is right now. The reasons we have accepted Corporal Punishment into our society no longer hold merit. I often tell my son Luca, "today is the tomorrow you where thinking about yesterday" We must teach our children the proper reasoning that will produce the desired result, one that entails zero violence. We are at this point still teaching them that if something is not going your way or someone is not behaving in the manner you deem acceptable then striking them is a valid resource. The choice is ours. As Spike Lee said and put forth so candidly in his film "Do the right thing".
In leaving you tonight I can only hope that when my son reaches adulthood that this practice of Corporal Punishment will be banned globally. Over 100 countries have done so all ready. As leaders of the so called free world we are setting a very bad example. Be well
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
FOLLOW THROUGH
It is important to know why we are running each day and what we are expecting to accomplish with each run. A purpose defines our goal and brings the run into perspective. Our training is only as suitable as the goal we are striving for. The big race here is drawing nearer and nearer and as I define my remaining training runs I am aware of what I am expecting from myself. Nothing short of the desired result will be acceptable and I will use these last 10 days to define such an outcome. Giving it my all is the only option I have. I am a runner because I have passion beyond the norm for many things in my life. The running simply acts as a catalyst for what yet lies ahead for me.
I returned home tonight after attending a forum on "Expectation for Education" and raised my concerns to the Department of Education and the public at large on the Corporal Punishment being administered in the public school system here in the U.S. Virgin Islands which is legal and alive and well. I was compelled to do so and as nervous and anxious as I was I simply had to follow through on this issue. It did not go as planned on many levels, it never really does, but the issue was brought forth to the public by me and for what it's worth it sparked an emotional response from the attendees to say the least. My follow through on this issue is as spirited as my running. It simply has to be done. I am driven to do so at all cost. Passion is the fire that ignites one's drive and thus my resolve to bring this issue to the light of the public at large.
The fervor that is my running now co-exist with my tenacity to see that one day no child should have to live in fear of being paddled or hit in ANY school system anywhere. As I partake on this journey of running I am becoming more and more aware of what it means to be an advocate of change both within myself and for the world at large. Change to me was way more that a buzz word in Barack's Campaign and in his current administration. So I run to change, change myself and the world at large. I will not simply wait for the world to transform, I will be a spark for it in both my running and in my life.
So as I follow through on some of my convictions and when the path gets cloudy, I will simply go on a run and wait for an answer. Be it mile 1 or mile 20 it always comes, I just need to be still within my movement and listen.
Be Well
I returned home tonight after attending a forum on "Expectation for Education" and raised my concerns to the Department of Education and the public at large on the Corporal Punishment being administered in the public school system here in the U.S. Virgin Islands which is legal and alive and well. I was compelled to do so and as nervous and anxious as I was I simply had to follow through on this issue. It did not go as planned on many levels, it never really does, but the issue was brought forth to the public by me and for what it's worth it sparked an emotional response from the attendees to say the least. My follow through on this issue is as spirited as my running. It simply has to be done. I am driven to do so at all cost. Passion is the fire that ignites one's drive and thus my resolve to bring this issue to the light of the public at large.
The fervor that is my running now co-exist with my tenacity to see that one day no child should have to live in fear of being paddled or hit in ANY school system anywhere. As I partake on this journey of running I am becoming more and more aware of what it means to be an advocate of change both within myself and for the world at large. Change to me was way more that a buzz word in Barack's Campaign and in his current administration. So I run to change, change myself and the world at large. I will not simply wait for the world to transform, I will be a spark for it in both my running and in my life.
So as I follow through on some of my convictions and when the path gets cloudy, I will simply go on a run and wait for an answer. Be it mile 1 or mile 20 it always comes, I just need to be still within my movement and listen.
Be Well
Sunday, February 15, 2009
68
The amount of minutes I have allotted for myself to complete the 8 Tuff Miles on Feb. 28th. Our local running event will sell 838 racing bibs as the actual distance is 8.38 miles. It will sell out, it always does now that it has become the largest foot race anywhere in the Virgin Islands. 68 minutes of pure guts. It is a lofty goal for a newbie runner as I have only been running a little over 2 years. This will be my 3rd 8TM race, and even more noteworthy of a time due to my age of 52. Numbers do mean something. With math being an exact science their is little room to fall off pace. Last year I ran it in 70 minutes. I totally surprised myself, along with a slew of other local runners, with my time and on that given day last year it was good enough to win my age division of 50-54. Now I must defend my title. That old sports saying "On Any Given Sunday" holds steadfast. You simply never know in local road racing who is going to show up and how it will affect the standings. Last year if I had been in the 55-59 age division I would of not even been in the top 3, and one race last summer stateside I did not even place in the top 3 but if I had been in either of the 2 Lower age groups I would have placed 1st. So the time is really the way runners measure their improvements. I would like to think that since I started at such a late age, 50, that my accelerated growth, ones ability to improve over time, is still in play. Mostly all runners my age are slowing as they have been running a lot longer than me in regards to the amount of years. 68 will be my mantra come race day. I want to still be running when I am 68. Perhaps a 68 someday in a 10 miler, my current PB, personal best, is 73. Oh the magic of 68.
What a year it was for a young impressionable boy of 12 who had spent his first 11 years in a cauldron of social chaos and the familia lifestyle of an Italian American upbringing in South Philadelphia. Coming of age in 1968 for me was an accelerated learning process on social mores. Traditions at the time I thought normal and acceptable defined one part of me, and the social and political landscape and upheaval defining another. Chicago rioted that summer at the DNC and Bobby Kennedy was shot dead, fresh on the heels of the MLK assassination. Our country, along with my impressionable mind tried to sort out the unfolding scenarios and decide who we were and what direction would we as individuals take and what path the country would be driven towards. Who can ever forget Tommy Smith and John Carlos at the 68 Summer Olympics. Moving to southern New Jersey in 1967 with my family was like going to Disney. Who ARE these people with their white socks and lawn furniture! Farmers is what us city folk called them and a one horse town now defined our new home with my Spanish Grandfather, a man with a fist of iron and a heart of compassion. I did not realize it at the time of course but he saved my life. South Philly had all ready chewed up and spit out other family members and the hillbilly ways of Jersey would allow me to calm down somewhat and enjoy some nature and smell the roses. It was a rough going at first but my street smarts from Philly carried me through. The summer of 68 in Jersey was like viewing the social unrest from a private box at the opera. Aware but protected. Gone where the riots a half a block from our Philly row house, no bloodied and beaten bodies walking by, no car windows smashed out. Forgotten was the constant threat of a beating by a rival gang simply because my skin was the wrong color. Ended where the detours home to avoid being in the wrong hood at the wrong time. Oh sweet Jersey where the picket fences were white and the cheese steaks were loathsome! I learned a lot of things about a lot of situations in those years and ran with 2-3 different groups at a time and although never really feeling at home with any of them they all had merit and pulled me in and taught me the ways of life. A handful of close friends added to my adjustment and I grew to become one of them for the 9 years I lived their. 68 produced some of the best music ever recorded and in my darkest hours I would find the necessary solace to move forward and notch out a place for my self in this utterly confusing and indifferent world.
As a runner I have become aware of a lot of things buried in the recesses of my mind. Avenues have opened that other wise would have remained blocked had I not pursued this sport. 68 will have special meaning come race day this year. I have done the training and the work to make 68 meaningful in my life. Be well
What a year it was for a young impressionable boy of 12 who had spent his first 11 years in a cauldron of social chaos and the familia lifestyle of an Italian American upbringing in South Philadelphia. Coming of age in 1968 for me was an accelerated learning process on social mores. Traditions at the time I thought normal and acceptable defined one part of me, and the social and political landscape and upheaval defining another. Chicago rioted that summer at the DNC and Bobby Kennedy was shot dead, fresh on the heels of the MLK assassination. Our country, along with my impressionable mind tried to sort out the unfolding scenarios and decide who we were and what direction would we as individuals take and what path the country would be driven towards. Who can ever forget Tommy Smith and John Carlos at the 68 Summer Olympics. Moving to southern New Jersey in 1967 with my family was like going to Disney. Who ARE these people with their white socks and lawn furniture! Farmers is what us city folk called them and a one horse town now defined our new home with my Spanish Grandfather, a man with a fist of iron and a heart of compassion. I did not realize it at the time of course but he saved my life. South Philly had all ready chewed up and spit out other family members and the hillbilly ways of Jersey would allow me to calm down somewhat and enjoy some nature and smell the roses. It was a rough going at first but my street smarts from Philly carried me through. The summer of 68 in Jersey was like viewing the social unrest from a private box at the opera. Aware but protected. Gone where the riots a half a block from our Philly row house, no bloodied and beaten bodies walking by, no car windows smashed out. Forgotten was the constant threat of a beating by a rival gang simply because my skin was the wrong color. Ended where the detours home to avoid being in the wrong hood at the wrong time. Oh sweet Jersey where the picket fences were white and the cheese steaks were loathsome! I learned a lot of things about a lot of situations in those years and ran with 2-3 different groups at a time and although never really feeling at home with any of them they all had merit and pulled me in and taught me the ways of life. A handful of close friends added to my adjustment and I grew to become one of them for the 9 years I lived their. 68 produced some of the best music ever recorded and in my darkest hours I would find the necessary solace to move forward and notch out a place for my self in this utterly confusing and indifferent world.
As a runner I have become aware of a lot of things buried in the recesses of my mind. Avenues have opened that other wise would have remained blocked had I not pursued this sport. 68 will have special meaning come race day this year. I have done the training and the work to make 68 meaningful in my life. Be well
Monday, February 9, 2009
COMPULSION
I Ran the 8 Tuff Miles Course early today on a misty and overcast morning with a cool breeze and a heavy load of thoughts. The race is coming up in less than 3 weeks and I have set some lofty goals for myself, both on and off the course, to say the least. I am compelled to run now. For what ever the reason, it is deemed in me to run. Compulsions of a positive nature need not be analyzed and dissected. The wind to my back says it all. The wind in my face notes even more. I have shunned most overly analytical approaches to lifestyles and social anthropology. Better we flow along and be who we are, as long as we do not disturb the solace of others. As we enter this new age of social and political awareness with our new leader Barack, one may call into question just what it is that we are to do to better our existence. Your guessed it, RUN, well for me anyway. The basic primal movement of running serves as my gateway to personal and social change. Lots has been written and discussed about what occurs in the brain on a longer run. I will leave that for another entry. One thing is certain, the clarity I obtain on a host of subjects while on a run simply could not be achieved for me otherwise. On a 60-90 minute run I have sorted out the days quandaries, answered nagging questions, and made decisions that normally would occupy way more of my time. So I run. And as I run I am compelled to act.
Since my last entry I have been struggling with a very disturbing social issue that was recently brought to my attention. It involves our most precious resource and shapes the future of all things to come. As all things must pass, I proclaim they pass with dignity and honor. It is clear to me that damaging this resource has a direct effect on our own lives whether you be young or old, black or white, able or disabled. I am now compelled to protect this resource and let it flourish to find a place in the sun.
Imagine a 8 year old boy shaking uncontrollably in his Mothers arms, tears streaming down his face, having to once again relive the trauma of yet another day in our Public school system, both here in the US VI, and in the 21 states where Corporal Punishment in schools is still legal. Envision his fear and distrust of his educators, and conceptualize his horror that was bestowed upon him by the very teachers we have entrusted his well being to. Just picture him as he reveals to an astounded Mother the abuse he has been receiving at his school, the Guy Benjamin School in Coral Bay on the island of St. John, since his enrollment in the fall. Paddling, spankings, rulers on the hands and knuckles, and duct tape on his mouth! Now imagine it being your own child. What would you do? How far does one go to protect their children? Simple answer, all the way!
Thus my compulsion to do something. I was physically abused in both Catholic and Public school up to the age of 13 or 14 in the 60's. I could write volumes on that but I will not. What I will write is that I will not rest until this territory of the US VI takes a stand on this issue. I will devote my time to seeing that every child has an equal and fair playing field at school and is not stifled by the fear of being hit. My compulsion is fueled as I run and gather both physical and mental strength to summon up the resolve to see this through to the end. And no other end will suffice other than a complete ban on ALL forms of corporal punishment in our school systems.
Please know that children are our most precious resource and their well being is an inherent right. Why are they one of the last groups to be given true equality. We do not own them, we nurture them, and we DO NOT have the right under ANY circumstance to strike them, or other wise engage them in activities that are detrimental to their overall well being. I am a parent so therefor I am compelled. Be Well
Since my last entry I have been struggling with a very disturbing social issue that was recently brought to my attention. It involves our most precious resource and shapes the future of all things to come. As all things must pass, I proclaim they pass with dignity and honor. It is clear to me that damaging this resource has a direct effect on our own lives whether you be young or old, black or white, able or disabled. I am now compelled to protect this resource and let it flourish to find a place in the sun.
Imagine a 8 year old boy shaking uncontrollably in his Mothers arms, tears streaming down his face, having to once again relive the trauma of yet another day in our Public school system, both here in the US VI, and in the 21 states where Corporal Punishment in schools is still legal. Envision his fear and distrust of his educators, and conceptualize his horror that was bestowed upon him by the very teachers we have entrusted his well being to. Just picture him as he reveals to an astounded Mother the abuse he has been receiving at his school, the Guy Benjamin School in Coral Bay on the island of St. John, since his enrollment in the fall. Paddling, spankings, rulers on the hands and knuckles, and duct tape on his mouth! Now imagine it being your own child. What would you do? How far does one go to protect their children? Simple answer, all the way!
Thus my compulsion to do something. I was physically abused in both Catholic and Public school up to the age of 13 or 14 in the 60's. I could write volumes on that but I will not. What I will write is that I will not rest until this territory of the US VI takes a stand on this issue. I will devote my time to seeing that every child has an equal and fair playing field at school and is not stifled by the fear of being hit. My compulsion is fueled as I run and gather both physical and mental strength to summon up the resolve to see this through to the end. And no other end will suffice other than a complete ban on ALL forms of corporal punishment in our school systems.
Please know that children are our most precious resource and their well being is an inherent right. Why are they one of the last groups to be given true equality. We do not own them, we nurture them, and we DO NOT have the right under ANY circumstance to strike them, or other wise engage them in activities that are detrimental to their overall well being. I am a parent so therefor I am compelled. Be Well
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