Like turning 18 years old in this country, running 18 miles is a huge milestone. It’s a number that many long distance runner associate with 100% confidence in their marathon. The old saying goes, “If you can run 18 miles, you can run a marathon.” So with that, I am proud to say, I finally became 18 (-mile runner, that is).
Besides feeling good about taking on such an incredible distance, I was even more amazed to find out that the number 18 is a rather powerful number. According to Jewish tradition, 18 means “good luck”. It’s a blessing. Since the Hebrew word for “life” is “chai”, which has a numerical value of 18, it has become customary to give in multiples of $18. Whether it’s a monetary gift at a wedding or a donation, the giving of 18 is an expression of blessing a long life.
They aren’t the only ones that think this way. In Chinese traditions, this number is interpreted as “one is going to prosper.” Coincidentally, I had Chinese on the eve of my run, and my fortune cookie read, “Luck is coming your way.”
With the number symbolizing coming of age in this country, it’s quite easy to see that the number 18 is symbolic in saying “good things are coming.” And I should say so… In exactly two months, I’ll be crossing the finish line in beautiful Florence, Italy knowing that I helped people living with HIV/AIDS. I don’t think I could feel more fortunate than that.
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ANNOUNCEMENTS
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SHED THOSE EXTRA MILES
Are you tired of seeing those extra airline miles you never plan on using? Or feeling the weight of those unneeded hotel points? If so, wait no longer… give them to me!
I’m planning my trip, and since I plan on staying longer, the small portion of donations that go towards my travel expenses won’t cover my full stay. Since this is my first time to Italy (much less out of the U.S.), I have to take advantage of the opportunity to meet my relatives and explore the history of my family.
I’m still planning everything, but if you’re interested in donating this way, please let me know. Email me at runnerla4119@sbcglobal.net.
BINGO WAS IT’S NAME-O
Fellow runner, Theresa Blaskovich will be hosting a Bingo Event at Hamburger Mary’s on Santa Monica and Sweetzer this Wednesday, September 27th. Feel free to stop by and join in on the fun!
ANOTHER BLOG
Here’s a blog kept by a great lady from the Saturday “Grete Waitz” pace group… http://www.tuscansole.blogspot.com/
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Monday, September 18, 2006
Diary of a Time Traveler
I find the need to confess to you that I ventured out, away from my usual territory and in doing so, I must admit I crossed the boundaries of time and discovered a strange and wondrous people.
On most Sundays, I begin my mornings with a hardy run along side my peers, but then a fortnight past, I needed to have a yard sale on such a day and this gave me fright: How could 16 miles be ran and a yard sale be had?
I did a series of calculations. I even masterminded my resources (mainly friends) for quite some time, and yet after many hours in my study, I could not stretch the limits of time beyond its usual perimeters to permit me to engage in both activities within a single day.
Finally, after almost a week, alas I had thought, why not travel back to Saturday! I heard, in rumor and story (more campfire tales than I care to remember!) that there is a people that engaged in the same activity and at the very same place, but in a different time.
Unsure of what this would bring, I ventured out still. Out into the chilly dawn. Out into the unknown. Out of such ordinary habits – oh sweet morning of slumber! I climbed into my carriage and made my way to the site I have been told of where they gather.
And behold, they exist! It is not just a bedtime story. They are real!
They are large and bold group, twice in number as my own. The natives of this time are as vibrant in character as they are in their style of dress. They are awake, but even more so, they are perky and talkative, speaking much of their adventures.
They have one particular habit that is the most strange and curious to me. It appears the bulk of them participate in the action of festivaling later in the evening. They call this “partying” where they drink fine spirits and, sometimes, not-so-fine spirits. They have this holiday weekly in honor of themselves. As one gent described to me, they do this “to unwind, let go from the week.” I find that it is a concept I must explore more in depth, and soon I believe. Soon I shall.
All in all, I must say, the Saturday natives have accepted me as one of their own, and I find I have the similar affections towards them, although I must confess that I do hope to pass onto them is the value of peanut butter jelly sandwiches, for here they seem to be lacking. With that being said, I am fascinated by their strange and lively culture. I shall travel to their time from this day forth whenever the running is short and for recovery, while keeping with my people, the Sunday folk, now for only the long runs. What I shall discover in my future visits with these new people, I can only wonder.
-------------------------------
ANNOUNCEMENTS
-------------------------------
XANADU: ROLLERSKATING DISCO PARTY
Come out THIS THURSDAY to support the Grete Waitz & German Silvas Pace Groups!
Moonlight Rollerway
5510 San Fernando Rd
Glendale, CA 91204
(818) 241-3630
Thursday, September 21st
8:00 pm – 10:30 pm
Your $20 cover (donation) will include:
* Your entry fee
* Two free raffle tickets
* Your Xanadu Roller Disco Party Gift Bag
Bring extra cash for:
* Purchasing additional raffle tickets for foxy [can’t read what it says]
* Including a “Slow Dance with a Marathon Runner”
* Purchase refreshments
Any checks brought, made out to APLA, as donations to the charity will be tax deductible. Please put the name of the person, in the memo whose account you would like to credit.
Xanadu ~ Your neon light will shine… for YOU ~ Xanadu
On most Sundays, I begin my mornings with a hardy run along side my peers, but then a fortnight past, I needed to have a yard sale on such a day and this gave me fright: How could 16 miles be ran and a yard sale be had?
I did a series of calculations. I even masterminded my resources (mainly friends) for quite some time, and yet after many hours in my study, I could not stretch the limits of time beyond its usual perimeters to permit me to engage in both activities within a single day.
Finally, after almost a week, alas I had thought, why not travel back to Saturday! I heard, in rumor and story (more campfire tales than I care to remember!) that there is a people that engaged in the same activity and at the very same place, but in a different time.
Unsure of what this would bring, I ventured out still. Out into the chilly dawn. Out into the unknown. Out of such ordinary habits – oh sweet morning of slumber! I climbed into my carriage and made my way to the site I have been told of where they gather.
And behold, they exist! It is not just a bedtime story. They are real!
They are large and bold group, twice in number as my own. The natives of this time are as vibrant in character as they are in their style of dress. They are awake, but even more so, they are perky and talkative, speaking much of their adventures.
They have one particular habit that is the most strange and curious to me. It appears the bulk of them participate in the action of festivaling later in the evening. They call this “partying” where they drink fine spirits and, sometimes, not-so-fine spirits. They have this holiday weekly in honor of themselves. As one gent described to me, they do this “to unwind, let go from the week.” I find that it is a concept I must explore more in depth, and soon I believe. Soon I shall.
All in all, I must say, the Saturday natives have accepted me as one of their own, and I find I have the similar affections towards them, although I must confess that I do hope to pass onto them is the value of peanut butter jelly sandwiches, for here they seem to be lacking. With that being said, I am fascinated by their strange and lively culture. I shall travel to their time from this day forth whenever the running is short and for recovery, while keeping with my people, the Sunday folk, now for only the long runs. What I shall discover in my future visits with these new people, I can only wonder.
-------------------------------
ANNOUNCEMENTS
-------------------------------
XANADU: ROLLERSKATING DISCO PARTY
Come out THIS THURSDAY to support the Grete Waitz & German Silvas Pace Groups!
Moonlight Rollerway
5510 San Fernando Rd
Glendale, CA 91204
(818) 241-3630
Thursday, September 21st
8:00 pm – 10:30 pm
Your $20 cover (donation) will include:
* Your entry fee
* Two free raffle tickets
* Your Xanadu Roller Disco Party Gift Bag
Bring extra cash for:
* Purchasing additional raffle tickets for foxy [can’t read what it says]
* Including a “Slow Dance with a Marathon Runner”
* Purchase refreshments
Any checks brought, made out to APLA, as donations to the charity will be tax deductible. Please put the name of the person, in the memo whose account you would like to credit.
Xanadu ~ Your neon light will shine… for YOU ~ Xanadu
Monday, September 11, 2006
Getting My Yard Sale On
What a weekend! Well, I might be comatose, but please know, there is a smile on my face.
The Yard Sale was a great success! Last minute, I pushed it up to 9am, but that didn’t stop the hardcore yardsalers from arriving at my place at 8am. Good thing, at that moment, I had decided to start pulling my stuff out. So it was a hectic start, but hey, I was happy they were there.
And they just kept coming… One man that bought some of my larger ticket items – like the guitar and surround sound system – had made a point to come to my yard sale because I was fundraising. Isn’t that cool?
Once the dedicated yardsalers started to pitter away, the local came out. Fortunately for me, I have a church at the end of my block, and this weekend, I was slightly more blessed than usual. The church was having a fair (free food, inflatable house, and so forth). So once mass was over, the fair really helped keep people outdoors.
It ran very smoothly, too, thanks to the help I received from my wonderful friends, Christian and Stannie, helping me (again). They’ve been with me for every outing I’ve done, and for some strange reason, they keep coming back to help me. And if that wasn’t enough, after it was all over, they even helped me bring the remaining items to Good Will. And while I'm on the subject, I should also thank Kip, Jennie, Tania, and Regina for their donations. So, let’s give them all a round of applause!
All in all, it was perfect. It was perfect L.A. weather – mild and sunny. I had a steady flow of visitors, and everyone who stopped found something to buy. And it was the first time in the five (going on six) years I’ve lived on this street that I really got a chance to meet some of my neighbors. In my opinion, it doesn’t get any better than that.
Until next week…
The Yard Sale was a great success! Last minute, I pushed it up to 9am, but that didn’t stop the hardcore yardsalers from arriving at my place at 8am. Good thing, at that moment, I had decided to start pulling my stuff out. So it was a hectic start, but hey, I was happy they were there.
And they just kept coming… One man that bought some of my larger ticket items – like the guitar and surround sound system – had made a point to come to my yard sale because I was fundraising. Isn’t that cool?
Once the dedicated yardsalers started to pitter away, the local came out. Fortunately for me, I have a church at the end of my block, and this weekend, I was slightly more blessed than usual. The church was having a fair (free food, inflatable house, and so forth). So once mass was over, the fair really helped keep people outdoors.
It ran very smoothly, too, thanks to the help I received from my wonderful friends, Christian and Stannie, helping me (again). They’ve been with me for every outing I’ve done, and for some strange reason, they keep coming back to help me. And if that wasn’t enough, after it was all over, they even helped me bring the remaining items to Good Will. And while I'm on the subject, I should also thank Kip, Jennie, Tania, and Regina for their donations. So, let’s give them all a round of applause!
All in all, it was perfect. It was perfect L.A. weather – mild and sunny. I had a steady flow of visitors, and everyone who stopped found something to buy. And it was the first time in the five (going on six) years I’ve lived on this street that I really got a chance to meet some of my neighbors. In my opinion, it doesn’t get any better than that.
Until next week…
Monday, September 04, 2006
Food, Glorious Food
Unless you’re a five-year-old kid or a parent of a five-year-old kid, you probably haven’t seen “Ice Age 2: The Meltdown.” In fact, you might even be asking, “Ice Age, what?”
Well, no worries, I watched it for you. It was really no trouble. Someone had to do it and I was happy to do it. (I really was!)
Well, as the title implies, the movie opens with the ice age coming to end, and thus, everything is melting. It doesn’t take long before the animals realize that it’s a matter of time that their valley will become flooded. They need to get out quick, but where to? With the terrain changing rapidly, a birds’ eye view is necessary. Thankfully for everyone, a vulture arrives more than willing to help.
Sure enough, later on, our heroes find themselves separate in a desperate situation, and (surprise, surprise) the vultures are there waiting. As our heroes start to make their way through, the sloth (played by John Leguizamo) ponders in his adorable lisp, “I wonder what they’re thinking?”
Then this happens:
It was by far my favorite moment in the movie, and it seems every time I return from a long run with my group on Sundays, I become submerged into the vultures’ song. (And I don’t just hear the song, maaan. I am the song.)
While it’s necessary to eat as we run, there’s absolutely nothing better than knowing at the end of it, there is a table overflowing with treats just for me. See, everything tastes especially good after you run. Oranges are more vibrant. Watermelon is sweeter, and on those hot days, it’s nothing short of heavenly. There’s also pretzels, candy, and bagels. The entire table is covered in foods loaded with sugar and salt, because that’s what our bodies need after a run. (Kids, can you say carbs?)
During those last hundred feet, I already have my eye on that wooden picnic table. When we arrive, Coach Mike clocks us in, asks if we had a good run, and a little “uh-huh” comes out of my mouth as I move away from the group and beeline it to the table.
Since there always a crowd surrounding the table (given that I’m one of the last groups to return), I have to jerk above, around and below the various limbs blocking my view. While everything is delicious, there really is only one thing I want in particular and sometimes I have circle the table to find it. The bowls are colorful, but opaque, so it can take a couple attempts, a couple “bowl checks” if you will, and then, wait, could that, yeah, there it is… sweet, delicious peanut butter jelly sandwiches! And it’s cut into quarters, just like Mom use to make.
As I peer down into the bowl, my eyes are wide with all the options before me. I start to hum “Food, Glorious Fooooood. We’re anxious to try it,” and dive right in. I’m not even polite about it. Hell, I’m not even sure I’m an adult anymore. I’m feel greedy and possibly even giddy. Within two quick snatches, I step away from the purple bowl with two squares in my hands.
Then I make my way slowly towards the tree off to one side of the table, eating one of the squares as I go. The leaves shimmy a little in the morning breeze and welcome me to enter its shade. Once I make my way through the first square, I take the remaining piece, hold it with both hands, and start to sway gently from side to side. I’m definitely not an adult anymore. PB&J hasn’t been this good since the first grade.
Well, no worries, I watched it for you. It was really no trouble. Someone had to do it and I was happy to do it. (I really was!)
Well, as the title implies, the movie opens with the ice age coming to end, and thus, everything is melting. It doesn’t take long before the animals realize that it’s a matter of time that their valley will become flooded. They need to get out quick, but where to? With the terrain changing rapidly, a birds’ eye view is necessary. Thankfully for everyone, a vulture arrives more than willing to help.
Sure enough, later on, our heroes find themselves separate in a desperate situation, and (surprise, surprise) the vultures are there waiting. As our heroes start to make their way through, the sloth (played by John Leguizamo) ponders in his adorable lisp, “I wonder what they’re thinking?”
Then this happens:
It was by far my favorite moment in the movie, and it seems every time I return from a long run with my group on Sundays, I become submerged into the vultures’ song. (And I don’t just hear the song, maaan. I am the song.)
While it’s necessary to eat as we run, there’s absolutely nothing better than knowing at the end of it, there is a table overflowing with treats just for me. See, everything tastes especially good after you run. Oranges are more vibrant. Watermelon is sweeter, and on those hot days, it’s nothing short of heavenly. There’s also pretzels, candy, and bagels. The entire table is covered in foods loaded with sugar and salt, because that’s what our bodies need after a run. (Kids, can you say carbs?)
During those last hundred feet, I already have my eye on that wooden picnic table. When we arrive, Coach Mike clocks us in, asks if we had a good run, and a little “uh-huh” comes out of my mouth as I move away from the group and beeline it to the table.
Since there always a crowd surrounding the table (given that I’m one of the last groups to return), I have to jerk above, around and below the various limbs blocking my view. While everything is delicious, there really is only one thing I want in particular and sometimes I have circle the table to find it. The bowls are colorful, but opaque, so it can take a couple attempts, a couple “bowl checks” if you will, and then, wait, could that, yeah, there it is… sweet, delicious peanut butter jelly sandwiches! And it’s cut into quarters, just like Mom use to make.
As I peer down into the bowl, my eyes are wide with all the options before me. I start to hum “Food, Glorious Fooooood. We’re anxious to try it,” and dive right in. I’m not even polite about it. Hell, I’m not even sure I’m an adult anymore. I’m feel greedy and possibly even giddy. Within two quick snatches, I step away from the purple bowl with two squares in my hands.
Then I make my way slowly towards the tree off to one side of the table, eating one of the squares as I go. The leaves shimmy a little in the morning breeze and welcome me to enter its shade. Once I make my way through the first square, I take the remaining piece, hold it with both hands, and start to sway gently from side to side. I’m definitely not an adult anymore. PB&J hasn’t been this good since the first grade.
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