Black Friday

First off, let me be perfectly clear about something up front. I hate shopping. I've always hated shopping. Even when I was a wee lad, knee-high to a grasshopper, I didn't like shopping, so I really don't understand all the excitement about getting up before dawn on the day after Thanksgiving just so you can be one of the first to arrive at a store where you wind up fighting with other early arrivers for the last red XL sweater on the clearance rack. And no, it's not the getting up before dawn part that I don't get. I'm all for getting up in the dark, as long as it's for something worthwhile like taking a long run or climbing a mountain. Or going for a swim.

It had been raining when I went to bed the night before, but when I rolled out of bed at around 5:30 and looked out the window, the weather seemed okay. Cloudy, but no water falling from the sky. So I quickly got my gear together, poured a cup of coffee, and headed to the pool. When I arrived, several people were already doing laps, so I stripped off my sweatshirt and kicked off my flip-flops, put on my goggles, and slid into the water. The pool was covered in a foggy mist of steam, and the water felt slightly cool as I swam my first few laps. For whatever reason, though, I could tell by the end of my first lap that this was going to be a good day.

It's funny how that works. There are days (not often enough) when everything feels like it's working in harmony, and the strokes and kicks and breaths are perfectly synchronized. After a quick warm-up, I started my workout. Today I would be swimming for distance, so I settled into a rhythm and started counting lengths. As I swam, my goggles fogged up, and combined with the mist shrouding the pool, this created a sense of isolation as the rest of the world disappeared. Occasionally, I would catch a glimpse of someone swimming in the lane next to me, but for the most part, my world was small and enclosed. I could hear my breaths and the splash of water, could see the tiles beneath me and the wall in front of me as I approached it and made the turn, could feel the muscles in my back and shoulders reaching and pulling. Back and forth, one length after another.

My mind wandered as I pulled myself through the water, one stroke at a time, and the only thing that kept me anchored to the here-and-now was the silent count of lengths I kept in my head. Usually, I have to work a little to concentrate on the count so I don't get off, but today, even this was nearly effortless. And after approximately forty-five minutes, I hopped out of the pool, my muscles loose and limber, my mind empty and clear, my skin shivering in the chill as I hurried to dry off and put my sweatshirt back on.

As I drove home, I noticed a line of cars turning into the mall near the pool. Without any hesitation whatsover, I turned in the opposite direction and headed for home. Black Friday, indeed.

Part 1: In the Beginning…

Where does one begin. I find myself cringing as I type, because there's a small part of me that realizes in spite of all my protest, that yes, Virginia, this is a blog, and in posting this first post, I'm taking the initial step that leads to a journey of a thousand miles, and I have no idea where I'm going. But wait, that's not why I'm cringing, rather, it's more because of the sense of pretension that accompanies the posting of this missive. For whatever reason, I feel like I've given in to something, surrendered some secret part of my soul to the other side, waved the white flag and sent up a flare, and now I'm sitting on a desert island somewhere in the middle of the ocean waiting… for what? Not rescue - although maybe that's exactly what it's about. Being rescued. And I didn't even realize I was lost.

What nonsense. Let's cut to the chase and quit dilly-dallying. A) Blogs are, by nature, pretentious pats on the backs, written by those who have this need to bare their soul to the electronic universe, hoping that someone, somewhere, will actually read what was written down. B) Even though I say this isn't a blog, a part of me knows it is. C) There you go. But enough of that.

In the beginning, I wrote these mildly amusing - let's call them articles - which people found to be mildly amusing and which helped in my quest to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Then I stopped, because the season was over, and some of the people who found the - let's continue to call them articles - actually expressed disappointment and wished I would continue to post my musings. So here we are.

I hereby solemnly swear to make a weekly posting at this site, and will make every effort to continue to write in such a way that those who were entertained before continue to be entertained, those who have yet to be entertained begin to be entertained, and those who were not entertained… well, who cares about them anyway, because they won't be reading these, will they?