I half-wrote a few of these blog things with such un-clervity as he was wearing a suit but spoke degenerate and her name is Hope, both of which will show up at some point this fall (hopefully) but alas, here's a Spring blog post which I mow-down in quick list-like fashion: pun intended.
1) Is it possible to have a meta-allergy (i.e. be allergic to allergies)? This would leave you impervious to allergens? Work on this doctors, what are we paying you for?
2) Airborne Toxic Event Wednesday night. Booya.
3) Two weeks from now I'll be in Texas with this crazy slice of Bacon:
I'm putting together a "Things I want to do in Texas" list that includes:
"Texas Two Step Two Texans" and "Buy a cowboy hat" Suggestions are encouraged/needed
4) Wrote it and deleted it.
5) Thanks to everyone who helped with the 24 hour film race. We need to have more creative outpourings as a group. I will upload the film next time (it's on a Somerville computer and I'm in Plymouth, sorry)
6) Tough Mudder was yesterday. For the record, it was Bob's idea.
Before and after:
Some sick person thought "I'll cover a mountain with mud and make a bunch of misery-in-the-pooper obstacles and people will come and give me money."
His smart friends must have laughed at this terrible idea, but he did it anyway.
Cue the adventurous (and masochistic?) people like Bob and I, it sold out well in advance.
Advertising/sponsorship props for the giant picture of the Dos Equis guy that read "If you have to sign a death waiver, it's probably worth doing" right next to the death waiver table at registration.
I was ready to run up and down a mountain and climb whatever they put in the way, so the first 3 or four miles was really enjoyable. Basking in Spring afternoon, the first climb up Mount Snow was rewarded with views of Dover and it was great to have some quality time with a friend I haven't seen nearly enough thusfar in '11.
The first kiss of water was a swift kick in the attitudes.
The afternoon, suddenly overcast, wasn't any help in drying or warming us from the freezing (literally full of ice) water.
I was especially not ready to get out of an ice bath and try to monkybar across a lake. Lacking feeling in my hands, my attempt ended quickly and awkwardly.
There are three Bobby Schroeder faces I still have fresh in my mind from yesterday:
-The face on miles 1-3 greeted me with "It's great to see you buddy, thanks for pushing me to do this
-2-6 said "Distract me so this passes quickly"
-There was a specific moment right before what they called the Gauntlet where it turned dark and angry. To his credit- Bob's a badass and there was no way he wasn't going to finish.
If anyone didn't already know: Bob Schroeder is man-crush worthy, but sorry ladies- he's spoken for.
Maybe what stood to be learned from Tough Mudder is that everyone has a point of misery and unhappiness that justifies screams and tears and stressful thoughts. But in an instant the moment's over and you are yourself again.
I can't quite articulate my point here- some of the Mount Snow dirt I'm still pulling out of my ear seeped into my brain- but that breaking point never tangibly existed.
Is enlightment a state where everything unimportant just passes by?
Are Tough Mudders supposed to laugh and embrace such a moment with a hug?
Are the bad times really just tests or good times in disguise?
Note: a very similar lesson can be learned from Yoga.
Sorry for the long one- but c'mon, it's been a month.