PLAYING WITH THE TOYS

Wow.

(Some backstory...)

In June 2015 I acquired a new (to me) software application for audio recording on my computer, called Reaper.

(Think of someone who goes into a field that is ripe for harvest and gathers the grain, not the creepy guy who comes to remove you from the living.)

The User Manual is over 400 pages.

This is deep, complex software, but it can do amazing things.

Actually, it does what most other audio recording software does, but is very simple to use.

Back in 2015 I read through the user manual, but missed a few key details ( I know now….), so I had a less than pleasing experience making my first recording with it.

I muddled through that recording project but lost my enthusiasm for recording with it, because it seemingly would not do what I wanted it to do.

I was not pleased with the semi-finished product, but most of that displeasure was because of some errors on my part, not because of the software.

So, for that reason and being busy on other things, I did not record anything for two years.
I wrote some songs, and pondered some arrangements during that time but produced no audio.

(End backstory)

Then, a few weeks ago, I was inspired to have another go at recording.

I looked at two other recording software packages – Garageband, by Apple, and Audio Desk, by MOTU.
And, I had in my mind that I might give Reaper another chance if these other choices did not produce acceptable results.

I tried recording a simple song with each package.

Garageband has been simplified since the last time I played with it.

It seemed pretty limited.

There were several editing functions that I wanted/needed that were missing.

It is almost like a toy.

Audio Desk is a pretty full-featured package that came included with the digital interface I bought a few years ago for the purpose of recording.

It is basically a stripped-down version of MOTU’s premier recording software product, Digital Performer, which costs $500.00.
I had the manual for Audio Desk and began to read it.
I recorded a simple track or two to see how it worked and was not overly impressed.
It sounded fine, but I was having to learn new commands and new ways to perform them.

Having to climb a new learning curve through a 300+ page User Manual was not encouraging.
(especially since I had already slogged through the Reaper encyclopedia a couple of years before and still remembered many of the methods/commands/key strokes)

So I went back to the Reaper User Manual and began to read it again.

And I watched a few videos on how to use it.

It was in one of those videos that I found the most vital and useful feature.

It turned out to be the key feature/command that unlocked many of the other features of the package.
I double-checked the manual, and, sure enough, the book confirmed the feature.
I had read over it twice before and had seemingly missed it both times.

To do most editing functions, you move the cursor to the place in the track that you want to work on and press “S”, then, just move the cursor to the place in the track where you want the effects of your editing to end, and press “S” again.

That is it.
From there, numerous manipulations of the recorded items can done.

I did a test recording in Reaper, utilizing my new-found knowledge and it was like the world opened up for me.

So I started to redo the project I had done in Reaper two years ago.

I had a difficult time trying to get the first track down all the way through.

It was not the fault of the software.

I was nervous. (I always get nervous when I record myself.)

I think it took 7 takes, but I finally got it.

Then I recorded the drums – high hat, snare, bass drum – one track for each.

And I time aligned each track with the others.
Then I got the bass down after a couple of tries.
This time I learned how to get all of these elements in tight time alignment.
Recording software these days allows you to move the individual tracks – or parts of each track - around in time so that they all are in perfect lock step.

It is amazing.

Then I did two electric pianos, each on its own track.

I added two organs, each on its own track, because I could not decide which organ sound I liked better. (I still have not decided and am keeping them both for now.)

Then I added a stereo track of strings.

And finally, after an hour of practice relearning the parts from the original recording, I recorded a lead guitar sound.

10 tracks in all.

All of this took three days.

I was very pleased with the results, so far, and was doing a practice vocal to see how all the recorded instruments sounded with each other and with my voice, when I realized I had made a major mistake. (MAJOR)

I had recorded an extra half of a verse that is not in the original song and not intended to be in this version.
I was faced the daunting task of re-recording half of the song, or chopping eight measures out of the middle of the10 tracks.
But instead of feeling discouraged, I just felt challenged.
I had learned so much about using this amazing software that I believed that I could perform this major surgery on the existing tracks instead of re-recording half or all of it again.

So, after some thinking about how to execute this somewhat complex operation, I began by making a copy of my song thus far.

This was done to preserve what I had accomplished, should I totally fail in my attempt to correct my original mistake.

Then I began cutting and pasting, deleting and attaching, copying and pasting sections of each of my 10 tracks.

The whole final guitar solo had to be moved up eight measures and precisely aligned with the chord changes of the other instruments.

Click and hold, slide and stop.
Listen.

Nope, not quite.

Off about a whole note.
Click and drag a bit.

Listen.
Almost.

One more click and drag just a hair.

Perfect.

One neat thing about this software is that you can make changes to the elements while it is playing and hear the result as it plays.

The whole surgery only took about 15 minutes.

I played it back a few times to be sure that all the drum parts where still in the pocket, and all of the keyboards and bass had all of their chord changes at the same times and to the same notes.

I did it.

Wow.

I cannot wait to finish this project and begin the next one.

I still have about three or four tracks of vocals to do.

And maybe some final detail clean-up on the instruments.

I pretty much have the instrument mix like I want it, but it may get a final tweak before I call it done.

SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH ME

After last weeks poor performance, I decided to abandon the six-mile course that I love.
After two successful runs on the 10k path, my third try failed to meet the criteria for a good run.
I had to stop and walk four times in the last three miles.
Fail.
Even though I backed off on the amount of leg work in my weight workouts, it was not enough to allow my body to rebuild between long runs.
Apparently.
So I am giving up on the 10k distance.
Reluctantly.

So, this past Saturday, I was present and accounted for for the old, tried and true 3.6 mile hill course.
The weather was cool and pleasant.
As was the case the week before, I did not get a nap on Friday, which put more pressure on me to get a bit more good sleep Friday night.
Which did not happen.

So I woke up at 4 AM.
I forced myself to go back to sleep, and dozed for the next hour or so, until my alarm ever so gently mumbled its quiet announcement.
I was ready to get to the task at hand.
This, in spite of the feeling a bit tired.

I started out gently, hoping all joints and connective tissue were ready for the ball.
Right ankle requested special treatment as it resisted change in angle of Tibia and Fibia with each step.
And left knee attachments were not ready to play with the team for the first hundred yards or so.
It even tried to play dead, with an important nerve trying to shut down the whole party by going numb.
Fortunately, this mis-fire only happened once and was gone.
Had it persisted to its maximum potential, this posting would a good bit more morose.

Everything got sorted out in the first couple of minutes of the trot, and there were no more physical problems the rest of the ho-down.
Except for respiration.
As I climbed the first incline, Level 3 breathing wanted to supplant my more comfortable Level 2 breathing rate.
And midway into mile one, Level 3 breathing took over.
Experience has taught me that if this happens, I am not as strong as I need to be.
It was an unwelcome guest, and he overstayed his welcome.

Even when I got up on the relatively flat plain of Toll Gate Road, the accelerated breathing stayed with me.
The good news is I was not struggling, but I was not comfortable.
Midway through the final mile, I was working hard enough that I entertained the thought of stopping to walk for a minute or two.
All Runner got from Running Central was a silent glare for even allowing the thought to coalesce.
So we ran on.

By the end of the course, Runner was looking forward to stopping.
And as he rounded the last corner, a Ledecky finish seemed unlikely.
But, as has happened so many times before, even when there seemed to be no more Wheaties left in the bucket, a sprint was attempted.
It was feeble and, no doubt, pathetic to watch, but it was attempted.
And so another run is in the log.

EDUCATIONAL FAILURE

The answer to my question has been answered.

Depending on one's mood, you could summarize this mornings six-mile run as a disaster or just informative.
I call it a Murphy run.
Almost anything that could go wrong - did.

The only thing that did not go wrong was that there were no physical breakdowns.
All tendons, ligaments, muscles, lungs, feet, etc. performed well.
Everything else?
Eh...

Although I got about five hours of sleep prior to the endeavor, apparently, it was not enough.
My Wheaties ran out at the beginning of Mile Three.
Not good.
Not sure I can blame the outcome on lack of rest.
Murphy's Law camped for an extended visit.

I could have turned around at that point and gone back to the car and saved myself a few minutes.
But time was not really a factor.
I just wanted to run (as in, RUN) the whole course without having to walk because of some  physical weakness on my part.
Fail.
I had to walk in Mile Three (as mentioned), Mile Four, Mile Five, and Mile Six.
These walks were each about two minutes in duration.
They were because of a lack of strength, which manifested itself in Level Three breathing early in the party and inability to recover to Level Two breathing even on downhill sections.

This was disappointing because as a result of last weeks difficult - though more successful -  performance, I purposely cut back on my weight workouts this week.
My leg work was reduced by half, and I cut my workouts from four to three.
Apparently, that still took too much of me to share with my running.

It seems that the amount of strength/effort to run six miles is so close to my maximum overall capability that the slightest deviation from my ideal effort margin prior to a run is fatal to my running capacity.
This makes me seem a bit fragile. (but I AM rather old....)
Humph.

In addition to my general weakness today, a biological imperative interjected itself midway into Mile three.  (more Murphy...)
Fortunately, there was a construction site on the course, from which I borrowed a handy portable plastic booth for a minute or two, to correct the situation.
This problem was successfully eliminated, in spite of adding another unplanned stop.

So, today's jaunt has provided answers to two questions:  
1  Can I run the six-mile Cotton Row Race course?
       Yes, sort of, sometimes, under ideal circumstances.
2  Can I run the Cotton Row 10k race, in four weeks or so.
     No.
Thus, next week I will return to my previous 3.6 mile uphill course.

In one sense, my gambit to run the long course was a success three times.
I did it as planned.
But today proved that I just need to dial back my running a bit.
I would rather run a little than not at all.
And it still is a delightful privilege to be able to run at all at my age.

WEEK 3 - SIX-MILE COURSE

The Saturday morning six-mile jaunt was a qualified success.
The temperature was not ideal - 35 or so degrees, clear, with virtually no wind.
Not my favorite temperature for a run (or anything else, really).
This atmospheric environment required judicious layers to keep the body temperature in an optimal range.
All that remained was a nice, steady rain to throw me into a total snert.
But that did not happen.

The other qualifier on the project was lack of sleep.
I stayed up too late Friday night -until about 11 or so, and I did not get a nap that afternoon - to which I am accustomed (read: spoiled).
So I hit the bed with a deficit of a hour or two (depending on how one wants to score it)
And I woke up at 2:30 AM for no discernible reason.
I tried to go back to sleep, but succeeded only in imitating a rotisserie for an hour or two.
Somewhere around 4 AM I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, my alarm was ever so gently mumbling that it was time to rise.
Which I did. 

I felt only slightly tired as I walked to the starting line, but I was wary.
This six-mile course has a way of finding your weaknesses and rubbing your face in them.
The first serious little hill shows up at the 2 mile mark.
It was there that I felt my lack of strength.
There were no specific parts complaining, just a general overall feeling of "I really kinda sorta don't want to do this."
This is NOT the sort of thing I want to hear before the half-way point in this race course.
So I fastened my seatbelt for a difficult slog for the rest of the hike.
And it was so.

I walked The Hill, as planned, and forced myself to resume running the last 200 feet or so of it, as I usually do.
But at this point I was wondering if I was going to be able to run the rest of the course (even though it is virtually all down hill from that point).
I had to stop for traffic at California Street for a few seconds, much to my dislike.
The last mile felt like two miles, and that I was dragging a 45 pound barbell plate along the pavement behind me by a rope.  

But I made it.
No unplanned stopping because of my physical failure.
As I walked back to my car, I was pondering how to alter my weight workouts to reduce my leg work.
Perhaps changing the work balance between weights and running would make the Saturday morning picnic a bit easier.

As I have found in my 20+ years of weight lifting and 17 years of running, is that it is easier to fine-tune the weight workouts than it is the running.
Weight workouts can be micro-tuned by changing exercise order, exercises, number of sets, number of reps, and number of workouts per week.
The only thing one can do with running is modify your pace, change the distance, or change the course for more or less elevation.
Over the years I have found and used a three-mile flat course (nearly so), a six-mile flat course, a three point six-mile hilly course, and a six-mile hilly course.
Once you are on a course, you are pretty much stuck with what you have chosen to run.

I love to run.
And I have learned to live with the rules of the game.
At my age, it is a distinct privilege to be able to run ANY distance at any speed.
I am blessed.

Round 2 - The Six-Mile Course

The saying goes, "if you play, you pay".
And it is true.
I feel "weak", sort of tired, stiff, and .... happy.
The happiness is drug-induced from the big shot of endorphins this morning.
All the other stuff is run-induced physical issues.

I did the six mile course again today.
It was cold - 48 degrees or so - so I had to fiddle with layers and whatnot.
I hate cold weather.
But I chose my layers carefully and they proved to be exactly appropriate to the task at hand.
The cold air was calm, so the wind chill was minimal.

As usual for this distance, I was scared and cautious.
I know I am pushing my limits.
I started out slowly, carefully, intent on getting all participants warmed up and happy for the extended journey.
And ten minutes into the party, I was daydreaming and enjoying the familiar scenery.
I felt a bit tired, for reasons I do not know.
And for this reason, my breathing - which is the element I use to pace myself - wanted to go from my comfortable rate of Level 2 to more intense Level 3, on each of the steeper portions of the course in the first three miles.
But it always settled back down.
I did not have to strain to keep my pace.

I walked The Hill at mile three, as planned.
The sky was clear and a million shades of blue as I topped The Hill at 5:50 AM or so, and bopped to the high point of the course a quarter mile away.
Then it was all down hill (well, mostly).

I crossed California Street and did not have to dodge a firetruck as I did last week.
In fact, there was very little traffic today.
This, on top of there being very little traffic at this time of day in downtown Huntsville.
Although I did not feel strong, all participants in the effort seemed reasonably happy to be part of the team.
The connective elements around my left knee, that began whining halfway through mile six last week, seemed to be content with the platter presented to them today.

As I approached the finish line (actually it is a three-inch dash of paint next to the curb with "5k" next to it), I wondered if I would have any Wheaties left to give for a final effort.
Consciously, I thought, "maybe not today".
But then I felt my tired self digging in and going marginally faster.
And for the last 100 yards or so, another Ledecky finish was in progress.
I still do not know where that comes from, but it is in me somewhere.

I was disappointed in myself that I let up my pace one full step before I passed the finish mark.
That was lazy.
And I am sure I could have given one more max step to the cause.
Next week.....

But, it was another wonderful experience.
Another privilege to do at my age.
The proof of the rarity of this event?
I was alone the entire way.
No one else, of any age, was out running on this course, at this time of day.

WOW, A VISIT TO AN OLD FRIEND

I did it.
Wow.

The idea has been tickling my mind for the last three or four years.
Just every once in a while.
Could I do it?
Just once more?
But, I do not need any further ego boosts.
Not at my age.
But still, every few months the thought would come around.

"It" is the 10K Cotton Row race course.
I love that course.
I do not know why.
But, several years ago, after three or four failures to finish the full journey without having to walk for a minute or two, I decided that I could no longer do that course. (June 2011)
I was getting older, after all....

So, I came up with a four-mile practice course to continue running. 
I purposely included a substantial hill to make up for the shortened distance.
It included part of the Cotton Row course that I love.
Then I found that I had to walk for a minute or so on THAT course, so I dropped back to a 3.6 mile version of that course.
I will have to do some research to see when all of that happened.
But for the last year or so (?), I have been running this 3.6 mile loop to scratch my runners itch.
And it has kept me happy.
Sort of.

But in spite of this gradual contraction of my running capacity, the thought would still visit me from time to time; could I do the whole six-mile loop again?
So, this past Thursday, as I watched what the weather would be for my Saturday morning run, as I usually do, the thought came again - do you wanna try?

The weather this morning was partly cloudy, temp in the low 60s, slight breeze - perfect running weather.
Perfect 10k running weather.
And as I packed by duffle bag and ran through my mental checklist of the things I need to bring for my run, my mind was also running through a list of contingencies, should I choose to do the long course and I suffer a physical failure.
I have run the 10k course dozens of times.
I know every hill, every mile marker, every street, every turn, in this course.
If something breaks, I know what points are turn-around points.
If I turn around at mile marker two, that would equal a four-mile run - approximately what I have been doing lately.
Mile marker three is the half-way point (give or take - mostly give - a hundred yards or so), so it does not matter which way you go from that point.
You might as well keep going.
Plus, the 10k course is virtually all down-hill from the three mile point to the finish.

I was nervous - and a bit scared.
I pointed my car a different direction from the way I go to my short course.
In past years, I used to run the 10k course twice each week.
The route I took today to the 10k starting line was a very familiar one.
But I have not driven it in several years.
It was a deja vu moment.

After parking my car, I walked to the start line and began to run.
Slowly, carefully.
My usual non-warm-up warm-up.
Testing all the connections and support structures to make sure everybody was happy.
I was biting off a big chunk today.
No gradual build-up of distance to break-in the body in smaller steps.
I know better.
But Plan A was to go for the whole enchilada.
If something broke, I would walk, limp, run, or crawl, back to my car.
I had no time constraints other than my own little Saturday schedule.

Plan A strategy was to take it slow, keep my breathing at level two and finish without walking.
How fast I went was not a priority.
And it was so.
To my delight and amazement.

Early in mile six, Left Knee began to complain about the unfairness of life.
I blame this on my turning around to the right to see if there is a car coming from behind me.
I consciously told myself to not do this because of this very result.
It only happened a couple of times, but that was enough to cause a problem.
Sometimes adjusting my stride and concentrating on keeping my form very linear can mitigate some joint problems.
This was done and it did help some.

By that time, my breathing was up to an easy Level 3, but I did not care.
After the last left turn you can see where the finish line is, a half a mile away.
I have found that, at that point, you tend to forget about a lot of details in life and focus on getting to that little mark on the planet.
I knew at that point that, barring a major surprise catastrophe, I was going to finish Plan A.
It was a wow run.
Thank you, Jesus, for the privilege to be able to do this one more time.

AN INTERESTING PROGRESSION

A couple of you may find this of interest.

SOME BACKGROUND

I started lifting weights when I was 50 - 1995.
I started running when I was 54 - 1999.

I have done both off and on, or one or the other since then.

There have been periods when I did neither.
The lapses have mostly been dictated by my job situation.
I have never stopped doing either of them because I did not enjoy them.

I stopped doing weight workouts and running when I took a job as a janitor in 2012.

I found that, while the work was relatively easy, there was a lot of walking and plenty of pushing mops and large brooms for eight hours a night.

The initial effect the new job had on me was to make me tired.

I did not believe I could do both, so I stopped working out and running.

THE PROGRESSION IN 2016

When my job hours changed in January 2016, I immediately began doing my weight workouts and running again.

I assumed that I would not be as strong as I was when I stopped doing weight workouts, but I was surprised how weak I was.

Understand that I was doing weight lifting to maintain my strength rather than to build muscle, as I was trying to do when I was younger.
At my age (71) there is little hope of gaining any muscle mass.
The battle is to hang on to what little I have remaining.

These exercises were selected because they require little set-up, use my bodyweight for resistance, and are compound/full range movements.

Because pull-ups are so difficult for me, I can do only a few.
This causes my biceps to receive a smaller amount of reps compared to my triceps and other areas.

So I added standing barbell curls to give some added work volume for my arms.

My point of reference was what I was doing in my last weight workout in February 2016.

My last workout was as follows:

Crunch 30 repetitions

Pull-up 6.5

Push-up 12

Standing Heel raise 60

Standing barbell curl 16 x 40 pounds

I count a half a repetition or incomplete movement as a half a rep for more accurate statistical analysis of my work load.

My first workout in April 2016 after I quit my job was as follows:

Crunch 30

Pull-up 4

Push-up 6

Standing Heel raise 50

Standing barbell curl 16 x 40 pounds

Squat (no extra weight) 20

PUSH-UPS

I was surprised by my poor push-up performance, which had fallen to almost half in just two months.
The next workout, the following day, I did 10.

The following week I was up to 12 and stayed there for about a month.

Then in May I did 14.

Two weeks later I did 16.

In July, I felt like I could do more, so I began doing two sets of each exercise.

The first two-set session I did 14 and 10 reps of push-ups.

I bounced around between 14 and 16 reps on the first set and 12 and 15 on the second set for the next three weeks.

Then on August 18 I did 18 push-ups on the first set and 16 on the second set.

I fluctuated between 18 and 12 for the two sets for the next eight weeks or so.

Then on September 23 I did 20 push-ups on the first set and 16 on the second set.

Since then my push-ups have varied between 18 and 14 repetitions for the two sets.

On October 26 it did 20 reps on my first set, then 17 and 14.

An average reduction as the muscles fatigue.

STANDING BARBELL CURLS

Standing barbell curls demonstrate another interesting progression.

I started doing them to provide a better balance of work volume for my arms.

They are one of my weakest areas.

In February I did one set of 16 with 40 pounds in my last workout before stopping for six weeks.
When I restarted my weight workouts in April I did 15 reps with 40 pounds – almost no loss of strength.

The next day I did 17 reps with 40 pounds.

The following week I completed 18 reps.

The following week I did 20.

Two days later I did 21.

A month later – June - I did 22 reps.

The following month I completed 23 reps with the 40 pound weight.

At the end of July I started doing two sets of each exercise.

My reps dropped to 21 for the first set and to 17 for the second – same weight both sets.

By the beginning of August my reps were holding at 20 – 21 for both sets.

The first week in September I increased my weight to 50 pounds.

I did 15 reps the first set and 11.5 for the second, an expected decrease.

The following week I was doing 14 and 14 reps.

In October first set reps increased to 16 and second set reps stayed at 14.

OTHER EXERCISES

In September I decided to add some variety to my exercises.
I replaced push-ups with bench dips and pull-ups with bent barbell rows using 135 pounds in the Wednesday workout.

My first workout with these new exercises produced the following:

BB Bent Row 20 x 135, 20 x 135

Bench dip 24 reps, 22 reps (partial bodyweight = 110 pounds)

This change in exercises has had the effect of improving my push-ups a little.

Push -ups are holding at around 18 and 16 reps.
Bench dips are up to 26 and 24 reps.
At this rate I will be doing 30 reps soon.

Since I prefer to hold my high rep exercises to a maximum of about 20, I may have to consider replacing bench dips with parallel bar dips.

Which has the effect of increasing the weight, which will decrease the reps.
I do not like parallel bar dips as much because they seem to not work the chest as much and work the triceps more, because of the angles of the range of motion involved.

But the variation will be useful in rounding out my “development” - such as it is.

As of mid-October 2016 I have increased my sets to three per exercise.

The downside of increasing the number of sets is it takes more time – about 15 more minutes per session with these exercises.

After just a couple of three-set workouts, I am surprised at how easily my system has accommodated the increased work volume.
I do not feel tired, and only slightly sore a day or two after the workouts.

The downside is this added volume may make it easier to overtrain.

I will have to watch my reps.

If my reps begin to drop, it is an indicator that I am overtrained and need to take some days off.

To be continued…..

BALANCING THE FITNESS LOAD

Balancing the Fitness Load

I am a planner.
Almost everything I do is part of a plan.
When I started lifting weights in 1985, I recorded my sets, reps, weights, dates, and exercises.
Some of this I picked up from reading several magazines and online sites on exercise.
They taught that progress came in spoonfuls and fractions of an inch over time.
Visible changes were difficult to see in the short run.
Some of my interest in recording data was my genetic disposition to plan everything out.
I assumed that it would be useful to know my physical baseline to be able to see if the exercising was doing any good.

2016 has been an interesting year for my weight lifting.
I started out just trying to maintain what strength and mass I had left.
Aging is not fun to watch on oneself.
The normal progression - or rather, regression - is to lose strength and mass as the years progress past the age of 40 or 50.
And I have experienced this slow decline.
I have fought it kicking and screaming the whole way, as much as I could.
And one more thing - as you age, your body takes longer to recover from exercise - both after each set during the workout, and after each workout session.

So.... I set my exercise program to be simple to do.
It consisted of simple compound exercises that mostly used my bodyweight as resistance.
One set of each exercise, three days a week, and a run on Saturday morning, mainly because I love running.
The exercises were:  push-ups, pull-ups, crunches, and standing barbell curls.
All upper body exercises.
My leg work consisted of my hill run each Saturday morning.

But gradually my body became accustomed to the work load, and I found myself seeking more work.
So, I increased my exercise to two sets.  (I will present more details of this progression in another blog post)
Soon, I was craving more work, and went up to three sets of these same four exercises
Then, I felt that I needed to find some alternate exercises to work these same areas of my body.
So some workouts stayed the same and other workouts involved different exercises.
Then I decided to add some leg work to compliment my running.

All of this culminated in the inclusion of deadlifts into my exercise plan.
Deadlifts are, along with squats, an exercise I love to hate.
They are hard work, and involve almost your entire body.
They call into service your thighs, back, shoulders, chest and arms.
They require strict form and, if done incorrectly, you can injure yourself.
So it was with some caution and concern that I scheduled three sets of deadlifts in my Friday workout.
I kept the weight to 95 pounds to break myself in to this new exercise.
The concern had to do with my recovery time - how long would it take my body to recover from this new (new in this year - I have done them before with more weight) exercise, and would it adversely affect my run.

I wrote all of this to write this.....
I had a fantastic run this morning.
When I first started out, my left hip and knee were acting like they wanted to collapse with each step.
I was concerned that I would have to cancel my run if things did not improve.
It took about a quarter of a mile in the 40 degree darkness for things to sort themselves out.
But eventually everybody got happy.
It was in the darkest parts of the road that I realized that I had a big full moon to light the way for me.
Thus, I did not need the little flash light I had in my hand JIC.

As I started up the steepest part of the hill, I found myself running slower than I could have.
I call it passive running.
Just bopping along at a certain pace because it is comfortable.
This is instead of putting just a bit more effort into your stride and push against your capability.
I called to mind the mindset of my new athletic object of admiration, Katie Ledecky, who pushes herself every lap of every day of practice, so she can win races.
I am not trying to win any races these days, but I am trying to challenge myself.
So I put a little more effort into my run today.
Just a little.
I was mindful of my heavy workout yesterday.
Would any extra effort empty my bowl of Wheaties before I reached the end of my course?
I decided to push this a bit.
To my surprise, I felt strong - as evidenced by my level 2 breathing the whole way.
I pushed my pace both up the hill and down the hill to the end.
I was able to push hard all of the last quarter mile of my course and sprint the last 200 feet or so.
Another Ledecky finish.
Wow.

A Christmas Story

Following is a bit of fiction that is surrounded by actual events that came to me this week.
Enjoy.

She knew she had to tell Joseph. But she worried how. Her condition would violate all the customs and moral values of her people. And she knew these customs and values were from God's law. Her parents had been teaching them to her since she could remember. How could she violate them now and not be punished? But the angel had said....

The angel.

How was she going to explain the visit by the angel? They would surely think her insane. And what would Joseph think?

Mary returned to her chores but could barely keep her mind on her tasks. She wanted to tell Joseph but wondered how to explain it to him. Would he believe she had been visited by the angel? Would she if he were to come to her with the same story? She admitted that it would be difficult. As she worried, her mind raced with different introductions and descriptions of her encounter. In spite of her urgent desire to tell Joseph she finally came to the conclusion that it would be best to wait. Perhaps some clarity would come to her if she slept on it.

It was not as simple to do as it had seemed. Her mind seemed to spin within her skull as she lay on her sleeping mat. She tossed from side to side, dozing for a few minutes only to be shocked awake by a dream of the angel visiting her again. Only this time is was just a dream. Frustrated and angry at her inability to sleep, she tried to force her mind to drop the topic. Finally, sometime during the night, she slept.

Mary opened her eyes again, after yet another vivid dream. She looked around the dark room. No one stirred in the inky silence. She looked over at the closed window, and through the thin cracks between the wooden shutters she could see the first dark grey shading of the coming dawn. Still exhausted from her previous days work and lack of sleep, she lay dozing for a few minutes, but her mind began to rehearse yet another scenario of her explanation to Joseph. Suddenly, she was no longer sleepy. With a sigh, she tossed her thin blanket off of her, rolled to her knees and stood up.

The table was for one of the Pharisees, a Rabbi Ben-David. Though simple in overall design, the client had requested a few details to make it unique. Joseph carefully tapped the iron chisel with the large wooden mallet, trying to make the grooved design in the leg he was working on match the other three he had already shaped. He stopped to examine his work when he heard a soft knock behind him.

Turning, he saw Mary standing at the edge of his outdoor work area.

“Hello”, he said in surprise. By mutual agreement and conformity to local custom, she rarely visited him at his father's shop.

“Hello,” she returned as she stepped under the large covering of the shop.

He reached for her hand to give her a small tactile expression of affection. It was then that he noticed more details of her appearance.

There were tears in her eyes and her hands were trembling.

“Mary, what's wrong?”

“Joseph, forgive me for this interruption,” she began, hardly looking into his eyes. “I … I have something I must tell you.”

He had never seen Mary in such an emotional state. This was so unlike her usual calm, quiet demeanor. And her last words had caused him to now be on alert to what she would say next.

“What is it, my love?” He tried to keep his voice even, in spite of his mounting concern.

“S... something has happened,” she began. Her lips trembled as she spoke. “I pray you will understand....”

A sickening dread welled up within Joseph as he absorbed the unusual, breathless urgency in her voice. Had she changed her mind about their engagement? Her tear-filled eyes met his for a brief moment, then she continued. “Joseph, something has happened and I fear you will think I am moon-struck when I tell you. But it is true, may God strike me dead if it were not so.” She paused to take a breath.

Perplexed, fearful and curious, Joseph said, “Tell me, dear, what has happened?”

Mary took another trembling breath. “Last night ... I was visited... by an an... angel.”

There.

She had said it.

With her heart pounding, she waited for Joseph's reaction.

Her dread of what was about to come was almost more than she could bear.

Joseph jerked his head back in an involuntary expression of skepticism.

“I know this sounds crazy, but it is true,” she said solemnly.

Joseph's mind was now swirling with many thoughts. One of the many things he loved about Mary was her quiet spirituality. She listened carefully and thought deeply about the law and the teachings they received. In their conversations on such things, she had impressed him with her understanding and perception. So, now, this revelation was not something she would say lightly, or without deep, careful consideration.

Joseph said, “Are you sure it was not a dream?”

“Yes,” she said evenly, looking into his eyes now. “I am sure.”

He was impressed with her assurance.

“Did.... did he say anything?” Joseph said after a moment.

“Yes,” she began. “He said....” She paused again. “He said that I am going to have a baby.”

Joseph's first thought was that this was hardly news to a girl about to be married. It would be normal and common for a young, health girl to have a baby.

Joseph spoke this to Mary.

“No, my love, you don't understand,” she said quietly. “He was not speaking of after we are married.”

Joseph stood, holding her hand, still and silent as he absorbed the meaning of her words.

“Before we are married?” He said with growing distress.

Mary nodded as a tear rolled down her cheek.

“How?” He asked.

“I don't know exactly. He said the Holy Spirit will come over me and I will have a …. boy child. He ….will be.... the Messiah.” She took another trembling breath. “He said his name will be Eyaysus.”

Joseph stood looking down at the woman he loved with all his heart, as a sickening ache grew within him. If she had this child before they were married, what would their families say?

What about the neighbors and elders? They might stone both of them!

As his mind raced, Joseph stood silent and still. A growing feeling of sickness and hurt filled him. After so much anticipation and learning to love this quiet, delightful girl, must he now let her go?

“Joseph,” her quiet voice interrupted his swirling thoughts. “Do you... believe me?” Her dark, tear-filled eyes looking intently up into his, she held her breath.

Joseph's mind raced. Her story was beyond strange. Coming from anyone else, he would have easily doubted such a tale. But he knew how seriously Mary took her obedience to the law. Given that, it gave her description even more weight.

“Yes,” he said finally.

At this, she collapsed against him and wept.

His arms encircled her shaking shoulders as she released her fear and tension.

After a minute or so, she settled down.

“Joseph, I'm so scared,” she spoke against his shoulder.

“Yes, I understand,” he said, gently stroking her hair with his hand.

“Why have I been chosen for this?” she said quietly. “I... i am nobody special.”

“Perhaps you think so, but God sees you differently.”

Finally, she let go of him and stepped back.

“I'm sorry,” she said, wiping her cheeks with her sleeve. “I fear now I have brought added shame on you for my improper behavior.”

“Don't worry about it. No one saw us that would care.”

After a quiet moment, she said, “What do we do?”

“I don't know,” he said with a sigh.

“Can we go some other place?”

“I don't know,” he repeated, almost in a whisper. “Any place we go in Israel, we will surely be shunned.”

“Or stoned,” she added.

“Perhaps, but not likely,” he said. “The angel said you would deliver our Messiah.”

“Yes.”

“You will be protected somehow.”

“I do not want to dishonor you, Joseph,” Mary said.

“How can you dishonor me, giving birth to our Messiah?”

“You and I may know my baby is our Messiah, but others will only see a baby boy with un-married parents,” she said.

“A least I assume he will look like other babies,” she added.

“Perhaps, you could go to Samaria,” he said after a moment.

“Perhaps,” she said in her sweet whisper. “But they might kill me just because I am a Jew.”

“Yes,” he said with a sigh. “They might.”

“Do you think we should stay apart for a few days and think through what we should do?

“Yes,” he said. “I don't want to, but you must be protected.”

“I.... love you, Joseph. I am sorry I have brought this trouble to you.”

“Sorry?” he chuckled, in spite of the overpowering decisions that suddenly faced them. “You have been visited by an angel of God. We must do as His messenger has said.”

“I must go now,” she said abruptly.

He understood her concern with proper behavior between betrothed couples in their society.

“Shalom,” he said with a wave, as she turned and walked out of the covered work area into the street. He forced himself to turn away from where she had stood. He would have much rather held her in his arms again. Comforting her also comforted him, as well.

Joseph tried to go back to his project but concentration was nearly impossible. He was sick with hurt and concern for his dear betrothed. Losing her was one thing, protecting her from the laws and customs of their people was another.

Later that evening, laying on his sleeping mat, his mind raced with possible scenarios for his beloved. Should he send her away? Should they both leave? Should they travel together or separately? Should he break the engagement? What shame would that bring on his family and clan? What should they do? Finally, he slept.

Deep into the night, a vivid dream filled his mind. An angel, fearful-looking and authoritative appeared. He spoke with a deep, calm voice, and said, “Joseph, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife. The child she will give birth to is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son and you will name him Eyaysus, for He will save His people from their sins.”

Joseph came awake with a jump. He lay there on his mat, looking around the room quickly. There was no one awake. All was quiet and dark. Yet his mind could recall every detail and word spoken in his dream of the angel and his message. He wanted to go tell Mary. But this was not the hour to be visiting his bride-to-be. His surprise and excitement settled into a calmness and strength. God had given the answer to his dilemma. Yahweh would provide a way to fulfill His plan.

After rehearsing the events of his dream a few more times in his mind, Joseph fell asleep and rested.

The End

He made it all the way home before he cried.
The last he saw her, she was standing in the little cell at the animal shelter, trembling.
It is an image that will be burned into his memory for the rest of his life.
He knew it would be painful, and it is.
Though not as painful as his last loss.

And the circumstances were different this time.
This time, he made the decision about when and why, not some unplanned, unknown circumstance.
But it is still painful.

He had to steel himself to go through with the task.
It is not something he did easily.
He felt like a zombi as he delivered his dog to the shelter man, trying not to think about what he was doing, emotionally, to himself and to his dog.
He just plowed ahead and did it.
It had to be done.

He knows that the pain will last for a while.
And there will be the emptiness in the yard and house.
The silence, where other sounds used to be.
No more barking in the night, or scratching on the back door.
Now it will be quiet.
Quiet even when he wished there was some sounds.
It will be quiet now.
Always quiet.
Silence is the sound sadness makes.

The sad thing is, his dog trusted him.
After all her pain in her early years, she recognized quickly that this place was different.
She had found a home where she was loved and understood.

She opened herself to him, as much as an animal can.
He was her Alpha.
He provided the food, the prime task of an Alpha.
It was a task he took seriously, and spoiled her with special additions to her bland diet – eggs, oatmeal, meat, leftovers.
It was not something that she really could appreciate beyond the moment of enjoyment.
This, because dogs do not do comparative thinking.

And for the time they were together, he gave as much of himself to her as he could.
He loved her and gave her as much Tender Loving Care as he could, given the constraints of his life/schedule.
And she responded in the only way an animal can – she wanted to be around him as much as she could.
And she exercised her instincts to warn and protect him from outside threats real and imagined (or at least, not understood).

The good news is animals do not do comparative thinking.
They live in the moment.
But they do develop expectations about how “things” will go from day to day.
They get used to the daily routine – even if each day has no repeated routine.
So, as shocking as another trip to another kennel is for her, she will adapt.
And she will forgive him.
Because she does not know how to hold a grudge or seek revenge.
She will accept her new life.
She will deal with the changes.

Perhaps she will find another good home.
At worst, she will be put to sleep.
That is the good news.
After all, she is just a dog.

The bad news is he feels like he has failed another person.
Another person who trusted him.
Another person who depended on him.
And he has.
This is like getting a divorce.
Again.

For almost the same reasons.
Almost.
Then, it was because he did not know how to continue to deal with the situation he was faced with.
After years of no change and no knowledge of how the assist in a change, he gave up trying.
So, he ended it.

This time, he knew how to deal with the issues, but also knew he could not continue to do so.
It was taking too much out of him.
Too much time.
Too much energy.
Actually it was his job that was taking all the time and energy, but of the two elements, the job was more important than the pet.
Priorities force us to make some very difficult decisions sometimes.
This was one of those times.

So he now must live with the feeling that he has betrayed the trust of a simple animal.
One who trusted him to be different from her past owners.
One who cared and would be her friend.
And it was so for a few months.
Then things changed.
And now he must live with this guilt of betrayal for the rest of his life.

So this is yet another decision that he will regret the rest of his life.
Actually, he regrets that he ever gave into his heart and adopted this second dog.
Better to have never made a commitment than to make one and break it.
So, along with the emotional pain, is the knowledge of yet another broken promise in his life.
So many broken promises.
So many....