Monday, September 28, 2009
The AtomicMan
The day I was defeated by AtomicMan. To start, the 1.2 mile swim went terrific, probably my best swim of the year with a personal best of about 39 minutes (10 minutes better than I anticipated), I left the water feeling fresh and excited. The bike leg started very well, but at mile #2 I became careless which resulted in me catching the side of the road with my front tire and driving me into the pavement. As far as road bike crashes, this ranks up there. After a few minutes of taking a toll of the damages, I decided to try and continue on. My legs still felt fresh and I could tell that my conditioning was good, but I had a lot of open wounds and my back and ribs were really hurting. After completing the 28 mile loop (I am proud I rode 26 miles on a damaged bike and body), I conceded. I am VERY disappointed at the results - a lot of training hours went into this event and I can't feel anything but frustration at a DNF result. However, it has developed a motivation to conquer the 70.3 mile event next year. I will be back! Stay tuned.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
The greatest practical joke of ALL TIME!
When I was a boy (and DEEP into my adulthood), I was quite the prankster. I was actually good at it, no, I would say I EXCELLED at it. I spent many hours thinking about and planning the perfect prank on the perfect person. I could have held weekend seminars on how to pull a great prank. I could have done a late night infomercial selling a 20 minute DVD outlining the key components of laying solid ground work and building a foundation for a strong prank. But I didn't and that ship has sailed. I have long since retired from that field and have lost the critical edge so necessary for good pranks.
There was the time we tricked my HS Spanish teacher into believing a buddy of mine fell out a second story window (I am thankful she did not have an ACTUAL stroke, although momentarily I thought she might), or when as teenagers we would take the universal television remote control, the one the cable company gave everyone when they installed cable in your home, at night around the neighborhood and point the remote in people's windows and turn the channel or turn the TV off and on while they were watching it (the efforts people went through to "fix" their broken cable box was hilarious), or the time we filled a 55 gallon trash can and leaned against the door of one of the guys in my dorm (after a late night knock, he opened his door only to be met my 55 gallons of water flooding the floor of his dorm room). These are all classics (although somewhat mean-spirited at time, thus my early retirement from the industry all together), but my question is - what is your greatest prank of all time? What is something you did (or had done to you) that will remain in your mind for many years and always gives you a chuckle when you think about it?
I want to hear what you got! I am searching for the greatest practical joke of ALL TIME! Do you qualify?
There was the time we tricked my HS Spanish teacher into believing a buddy of mine fell out a second story window (I am thankful she did not have an ACTUAL stroke, although momentarily I thought she might), or when as teenagers we would take the universal television remote control, the one the cable company gave everyone when they installed cable in your home, at night around the neighborhood and point the remote in people's windows and turn the channel or turn the TV off and on while they were watching it (the efforts people went through to "fix" their broken cable box was hilarious), or the time we filled a 55 gallon trash can and leaned against the door of one of the guys in my dorm (after a late night knock, he opened his door only to be met my 55 gallons of water flooding the floor of his dorm room). These are all classics (although somewhat mean-spirited at time, thus my early retirement from the industry all together), but my question is - what is your greatest prank of all time? What is something you did (or had done to you) that will remain in your mind for many years and always gives you a chuckle when you think about it?
I want to hear what you got! I am searching for the greatest practical joke of ALL TIME! Do you qualify?
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Two types of people on the bike
One of the greatest hazards when riding your bike on the back roads of Bradley County (or any other community for that matter), is the unfenced, unleashed, and otherwise unconfined dogs. I have seen all too often my friends and riding partners go down in a heap after a dog runs under their tires. I have been fortunate, while I have had many close calls, I have yet to be taken down by a canine friend. In fact, on my "old faithful" ride to and from Red Clay State Park, I have essentially mapped the ride by the dogs I'll encounter. There is the crazy German Shepard I have called the Yard Nazi - that family must have a invisible fence because he will run to the edge of the road and run tight circles until I am out of sight (somewhat humorous). There is Duke II, because he is very friendly and likes to run alongside of me, and looks just like my old dog Duke. There is Rocco II, a little Terrier Terror that makes every effort to run between my tires and the culprit of my closest calls (I now ride quiet on the approach and make a sprint attack past the house, much like the group finishes at the Tour de France - except it is only one fat guy on a bike and a little 20 lb. dog chasing him through the back roads of SE Tennessee). There is Gramps, an old lab mix that only raises his head to bark, but never gets off the porch, and Doggy Bolt, an incredible sprinter for short distances who otherwise has no endurance. There have been many other dogs on this route come and go over the years (I am fearful that the "go" was a sad ending created by a vehicle larger than a bike).
Now I have ridden with many people in this community and there are generally two ways to deal with the dogs - love and contempt. I am not judging either, but it seems to be a common theme. Those that deal with love, either try and sneak by in an effort not to disturb the dog, bring doggy bones to toss to the dog during the chase (hoping it will be a distraction), or actually enjoying talking and playing chase with the dogs. I tend to fall into this category. The other approach is contempt. I have seen this play out with yelling, threatening, and most recently, many riders are carrying a form of pepper spray to hit the dogs with during the chase. While the spray usually works, I have also seen the rider in the draft become a "collateral damage" victim of the spray.
I am not judging or suggesting either is right or wrong, just pointing out an interesting pattern I've noticed, much like the preferences people have of which way their toilet paper rolls open (many like the toilet paper to roll over the top, others prefer it coming out the bottom). What does all this say? What does it mean? Probably nothing, but I am not smart enough to be the judge, I simply write it down for you to ponder. Ride safe and don't let Rocco II get the jump on you!
Now I have ridden with many people in this community and there are generally two ways to deal with the dogs - love and contempt. I am not judging either, but it seems to be a common theme. Those that deal with love, either try and sneak by in an effort not to disturb the dog, bring doggy bones to toss to the dog during the chase (hoping it will be a distraction), or actually enjoying talking and playing chase with the dogs. I tend to fall into this category. The other approach is contempt. I have seen this play out with yelling, threatening, and most recently, many riders are carrying a form of pepper spray to hit the dogs with during the chase. While the spray usually works, I have also seen the rider in the draft become a "collateral damage" victim of the spray.
I am not judging or suggesting either is right or wrong, just pointing out an interesting pattern I've noticed, much like the preferences people have of which way their toilet paper rolls open (many like the toilet paper to roll over the top, others prefer it coming out the bottom). What does all this say? What does it mean? Probably nothing, but I am not smart enough to be the judge, I simply write it down for you to ponder. Ride safe and don't let Rocco II get the jump on you!
Friday, September 4, 2009
My first (almost) fight
It was fifth grade. I was playing quarterback at recess and my best friend, Chris, was running a deep pass pattern. He was wide open, but I overthrew him on the play and ended up hitting the school bully named Butch in the back with the football. As you might guess, Butch was not happy. Butch was in fifth grade, but had been held back at least twice. He smoked and was rumored to have stolen a car (probably not true, but it certainly added to his reputation).
Butch cornered me and my friend Chris and told us that he was going to fight us Friday after school at the local park (ironically named Pleasant Street Park). The strange thing about this challenge was that it was only Tuesday. I assumed Butch planned it that way so that he could enjoy the next several days watching Chris and I sweat like two men facing their final days on death row. However, it may have been that his fighting schedule was full for the week and the first opportunity he had to squeeze us into his busy schedule fell on Friday afternoon.
Nonetheless, the week crawled along as news of the big fight spread through our small school. Finally Friday arrived and I trudged through the day dreading the impending doom that faced me at 3:00. It was at recess that day that I realized Chris was absent. Rumor had it that he had come down with some mysterious form of the 24 hour flu and would probably be back on his feet the next day. My prognosis was much gloomier.
The bell rang and about half the school ran down to the park ahead of me. I wanted to believe they’d be there to scream their support for me, but more likely they were scrambling to get the “first come, first serve” front row seats to school yard slaughter. I tried to convince myself that if I was brave that I had a chance of winning. But the truth was, Butch was twice my size and if I was brave, I had a chance of surviving.
I arrived at the park to see a circle of children, forming a Roman Gladiator-like arena. I had two strategies; the first was to fight with the heart of Rocky Balboa, earning Butch's respect through my endurance until he called it a draw. The second strategy was to take a dive early to limit the damage. I was leaning toward the latter when I stepped inside the circle. Seeing Chris was absent, Butch asked, “Where’s your friend?” I explained the mysterious illness and Butch seemed to become suddenly sympathetic and said, “Since you had the courage to show up, I’ll let you off, but tell your friend I’ll find him.” I walked away as if I was never scared and tried to cover up the fact that my knees were visibly shaking.
My son is now at the age where pushing and shoving is a part of childhood play. As parents, it is important that we all teach our children the difference between boyhood rough-housing and threats of physical violence that can create an unhealthy and unsafe school culture. The feeling of safety is paramount to a successful learning environment and the trauma that often goes with violence can last a lifetime (just don’t tell Butch).
Butch cornered me and my friend Chris and told us that he was going to fight us Friday after school at the local park (ironically named Pleasant Street Park). The strange thing about this challenge was that it was only Tuesday. I assumed Butch planned it that way so that he could enjoy the next several days watching Chris and I sweat like two men facing their final days on death row. However, it may have been that his fighting schedule was full for the week and the first opportunity he had to squeeze us into his busy schedule fell on Friday afternoon.
Nonetheless, the week crawled along as news of the big fight spread through our small school. Finally Friday arrived and I trudged through the day dreading the impending doom that faced me at 3:00. It was at recess that day that I realized Chris was absent. Rumor had it that he had come down with some mysterious form of the 24 hour flu and would probably be back on his feet the next day. My prognosis was much gloomier.
The bell rang and about half the school ran down to the park ahead of me. I wanted to believe they’d be there to scream their support for me, but more likely they were scrambling to get the “first come, first serve” front row seats to school yard slaughter. I tried to convince myself that if I was brave that I had a chance of winning. But the truth was, Butch was twice my size and if I was brave, I had a chance of surviving.
I arrived at the park to see a circle of children, forming a Roman Gladiator-like arena. I had two strategies; the first was to fight with the heart of Rocky Balboa, earning Butch's respect through my endurance until he called it a draw. The second strategy was to take a dive early to limit the damage. I was leaning toward the latter when I stepped inside the circle. Seeing Chris was absent, Butch asked, “Where’s your friend?” I explained the mysterious illness and Butch seemed to become suddenly sympathetic and said, “Since you had the courage to show up, I’ll let you off, but tell your friend I’ll find him.” I walked away as if I was never scared and tried to cover up the fact that my knees were visibly shaking.
My son is now at the age where pushing and shoving is a part of childhood play. As parents, it is important that we all teach our children the difference between boyhood rough-housing and threats of physical violence that can create an unhealthy and unsafe school culture. The feeling of safety is paramount to a successful learning environment and the trauma that often goes with violence can last a lifetime (just don’t tell Butch).
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Serving the Underserved
I am off to teach a course at Lee University titled, "Serving the Underserved". In preparing for this class, it has got me thinking (always a bad sign, usually it can be identified by a contorted look on my face and steam coming out of my ears), why, in the richest country of the world, are there still people who are "underserved"? Why, when I walk out of my office door, do I walk by people who are homeless, jobless, and without any support service? Why do we feel the need to look at the government to solve these problems? What happened to the second of the two most important commandments - "Thou shall love thy neighbor as you love yourself"? Even if you are not a Christian, at some level you must agree with that philosophy, right? What are your thoughts? How do we solve homelessness, drug addiction, domestic violence, child abuse, and all the other issues that plague our communities?
Thursday, August 13, 2009
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times . . . with the bike.
It was an interesting week, on and off the bike. My weekly column for the Cleveland Daily Banner hit a new high, as it was picked up by the AP and ultimately posted on the USA Cycling Website (http://www.usacycling.org/) in their "Cycling in the news" section, (scroll down to find, "Pushing Pedals can be a Passion . . ."). As a lifelong cycling enthusiast, it was a great honor to get an email from USA Cycling supporting the column AND notifying me that they published a link to my column.
That was the exciting news ON the bike, now the total gaff I made on the bike. I am a little more than 6 weeks away from my AtomicMan event and I need to increase my training for the bike leg. Wednesday night (coincidentally the same night my column ran in the Banner) I rode a monster 42 mile ride through the rolling hills of Bradley County. I did over 5 miles of serious climbing. The ride was awesome, except for one little mistake - I ran out of water. Yes, the oldest rule in the book, drink enough water, and I violated it!
Actually it was a fair mistake, I had a park that I normally fill my bottles at, but because of the length of the ride, the building was closed and I did not have access to the water. I thought I might be alright since I only had about 11 miles to go at that point . . . I was wrong. I didn't "bonk" on the bike, I actually finished the ride strong (averaging 17 mph over the full 42 miles), but when I got home I felt it. I started getting tunnel vision, dizzy, and a little nauseous. My beautiful and UNDERSTANDING wife allowed me to climb into bed at about 8:30 and feed me fluids until I went to sleep. Lesson learned, don't tempt fate on dehydration. Probably one of my most embarrassing moment in the saddle (next to the time that 60 year old woman passed me on the century ride).
As Dickens would say, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times . . ." for me and the bike. I can't wait and see what next week brings!
That was the exciting news ON the bike, now the total gaff I made on the bike. I am a little more than 6 weeks away from my AtomicMan event and I need to increase my training for the bike leg. Wednesday night (coincidentally the same night my column ran in the Banner) I rode a monster 42 mile ride through the rolling hills of Bradley County. I did over 5 miles of serious climbing. The ride was awesome, except for one little mistake - I ran out of water. Yes, the oldest rule in the book, drink enough water, and I violated it!
Actually it was a fair mistake, I had a park that I normally fill my bottles at, but because of the length of the ride, the building was closed and I did not have access to the water. I thought I might be alright since I only had about 11 miles to go at that point . . . I was wrong. I didn't "bonk" on the bike, I actually finished the ride strong (averaging 17 mph over the full 42 miles), but when I got home I felt it. I started getting tunnel vision, dizzy, and a little nauseous. My beautiful and UNDERSTANDING wife allowed me to climb into bed at about 8:30 and feed me fluids until I went to sleep. Lesson learned, don't tempt fate on dehydration. Probably one of my most embarrassing moment in the saddle (next to the time that 60 year old woman passed me on the century ride).
As Dickens would say, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times . . ." for me and the bike. I can't wait and see what next week brings!
Thursday, July 23, 2009
To Spank or Not to Spank, Part II
I was hesitant to write this column, but my wife challenged me, so here we are. I have an admission - I spanked my son for the first time this past week. Now I know what is going to happen, I am going to be inundated by throng of “I told you so” letters accusing me of being a hypocrite. As my readers may recall (all 6 or 7 of you), about 2 months ago I wrote a column that seemed to suggest that I believed spanking was wrong. Let me clarify my original point, I was not and am not opposed to spanking, I simply believe that every parent should determine what type of discipline is most effective for their own child and if lesser means are available and effective, than that is the path that should be chosen.
This week, my son chose not to travel the path of lesser means. He ended up getting himself a good ol’fashioned spanking – at church nonetheless (to paraphrase Proverbs, “spare the rod, spoil the child,” right?) My son is the light of my life, but this Sunday morning at church he must have experienced an eclipse. He was rude, defiant, and aggressive and the firm look, raised voice, and time out (my wife later suggested a time out in a crowded church lobby was probably not the best location – thanks honey) had no effect on my son’s strong will. I was left with nothing but the legendary trip to the bathroom. You all remember this trip from your childhood. The trip your parents had given you 10 warnings about and you dreaded the entire walk there, pleading with apologies and promises to not do whatever deed started this chain of events. My son had his first taste of this trip.
Once in the bathroom, my mind rushed to the research I had done and the number of articles, for and against spanking, that I had read. A couple points made a strong impression on me and guided me through this difficult process (the first time you spank your child is always the most traumatic – for both you and the child); 1. Never spank out of anger. I had to take a couple deep breathes and remind myself that I was doing this as a form of discipline – to help my son become a better child who understands limits, appropriate behavior, and consequences, 2. The goal is not to physically hurt your child, but to get their attention, or put an exclamation point on the lesson being taught. This one was easy; it was so hard for me that he probably barely felt the one whack I was able to muster. However, the emotional impact was clear – his feelings were hurt and he understood what had just happened, 3. Follow up with a clear explanation and an “I love you” so that the child understands you are not mad and your feelings for them have not changed.
When I was a child, I never believed the old saying, “this is going to hurt me more than it’ll hurt you,” but in this case it was true. A few minutes later, my son was well-behaved and looking forward to lunch, his Daddy was still upset. While this form of discipline certainly did work this time, it will always serve as my last option.
Matt Ryerson is the Vice President of Community Investment Strategies at the United Way of Bradley County. Matt’s column appears in the Cleveland Daily Banner every Wednesday. If you have questions or comments, please contact Matt at mryerson@unitedwaybc.com.
This week, my son chose not to travel the path of lesser means. He ended up getting himself a good ol’fashioned spanking – at church nonetheless (to paraphrase Proverbs, “spare the rod, spoil the child,” right?) My son is the light of my life, but this Sunday morning at church he must have experienced an eclipse. He was rude, defiant, and aggressive and the firm look, raised voice, and time out (my wife later suggested a time out in a crowded church lobby was probably not the best location – thanks honey) had no effect on my son’s strong will. I was left with nothing but the legendary trip to the bathroom. You all remember this trip from your childhood. The trip your parents had given you 10 warnings about and you dreaded the entire walk there, pleading with apologies and promises to not do whatever deed started this chain of events. My son had his first taste of this trip.
Once in the bathroom, my mind rushed to the research I had done and the number of articles, for and against spanking, that I had read. A couple points made a strong impression on me and guided me through this difficult process (the first time you spank your child is always the most traumatic – for both you and the child); 1. Never spank out of anger. I had to take a couple deep breathes and remind myself that I was doing this as a form of discipline – to help my son become a better child who understands limits, appropriate behavior, and consequences, 2. The goal is not to physically hurt your child, but to get their attention, or put an exclamation point on the lesson being taught. This one was easy; it was so hard for me that he probably barely felt the one whack I was able to muster. However, the emotional impact was clear – his feelings were hurt and he understood what had just happened, 3. Follow up with a clear explanation and an “I love you” so that the child understands you are not mad and your feelings for them have not changed.
When I was a child, I never believed the old saying, “this is going to hurt me more than it’ll hurt you,” but in this case it was true. A few minutes later, my son was well-behaved and looking forward to lunch, his Daddy was still upset. While this form of discipline certainly did work this time, it will always serve as my last option.
Matt Ryerson is the Vice President of Community Investment Strategies at the United Way of Bradley County. Matt’s column appears in the Cleveland Daily Banner every Wednesday. If you have questions or comments, please contact Matt at mryerson@unitedwaybc.com.
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