For the second time this year, I got smoked by the old guys.  This time, it was as part of a 10 kilometer race in Bethesda, Maryland called the “Turkey Chase,” which takes place on Thanksgiving day morning.  My Uncle Ken, a doctor from Potomac, who is 55 years old and in great shape I might add, was running in his 10th straight Thanksgiving Day run.  He ran alongside a fellow doctor in his fifties, named Alan, who also had run this race before.  This was my first Turkey Chase and actually my first 10K race ever.  Regardless of these small details, it was me, the 26 year old, who was once again showed up by a few men in their fifties (bad hips and all).

We started out at the Bethesda YMCA as part of a group of over 4,000 runners.  At the starting line was myself, the two doctors (Ken and Alan) as well as Ken’s son Matthew, who is my 18-year old cousin, a freshman at the University of Virginia.  I was somewhat nervously anticipating the running of six miles through the unknown streets of Bethesda, what seemed like foreign territory to me.  I really didn’t know the course at all and to be honest, I hadn’t really even trained for this race.

As we stood at the starting line among the pack of runners (all in incredibly good-looking shape I might add), I was banking on the fact that doing core strength exercises and some cardiovascular workouts at Cross-Fit Providence would propel me through this race.  I was also relying upon my iPod for inspiration in the form of Chris Brown, Lil’ Wayne, and Rihanna songs.  However, perhaps the most obvious factor I had assumed was on my side was “youth.”  The idea that I could easily keep up with Uncle Ken because of our difference of 30 years in age was a misconception that I willingly hung onto like a painful addiction.

After the gun went off to signal the start of the race, I couldn’t have been more misconstrued in my expectation that youthful exuberance would carry me through this race.  The fact that Ken was born during the Eisenhower administration and I, during President Reagan’s second term did nothing for my mental and physical stamina needed to succeed in the Turkey Chase run.  Age was merely a figment of my imagination.  All of my youthful exuberance was overcome by strength and determination on the part of the old guys as Ken and Alan dominated from the onset.  During the 1st mile, Matthew had already bolted ahead to a faster pace group and I was left in the dust behind two doctors who didn’t mind showing up a twenty-something with a good dose of old man strength.

Miles 2 through 5 were more about keeping up with the doctors than anything else.  At times, I could see myself slipping away from the two men in their jump suits and sneakers that even the family dog has already chewed up.  As they were busy steadily pacing themselves and talking about God knows what, I was erratically swerving through the masses just to make sure I didn’t lose sight of the jump suits.  Finally, at around mile 5.25, after we had already turned around at Wisconsin Avenue and Old Georgetown Road back to the Bethesda YMCA, I finally started to catch the Baby Boomers.  I gasped to Alan that we only had less than 1 mile to go (based on my iPhone application, RunKeeper, telling me through my earphones).  He sped up and left Ken and I side-by-side, probably in disgust for my generation and our technological habits.

Ken and I finished the race together arm-in-arm for a finish time of 59:49, but not after some deep, gasping breaths on my part and having to overcome a slightly nauseous episode at the very end.  I’ve realized in my few years of running that this is an individual sport not just contingent upon physical ability, but more often one’s mental capacity to overcome small battles with yourself, little “games” if you will, that are required to continue to push your body to its limits.  Ken’s ability to overcome pain to hips proved to me that I could channel my energy away from my shin splints.  The bottom line was that no matter what is plaguing you during your runs, you have to be able to cognitively remove yourself from the actual pain and focus your attention elsewhere.  The “other” point I want to make is that age is irrelevant when it comes to matters of strength and determination.  The old guys won again.

Joe Paterno

I listen to a fair amount of sports talk radio, specifically WFAN-660 in New York.  Usually, the topics of discussion surround the peformance of the local sports teams, which for the most part, bears very little impact on how we behave as human beings.  However, while listening to WFAN this past week, I was especially drawn to recent scandal involving a pattern of the sexual abuse of young boys among a member of the Penn State football coaching staff, dating back to the mid-1990′s.  The actions of this former Defense Coordinator, Jerry Sandusky, were egregious and almost unfathomable.

From a morality standpoint, this story has had more of an impact on my everyday thoughts and my own sense of human interaction than any other sports story in my lifetime.  The underlining issue that someone like Coach Joe Paterno, the head football coach at Penn State for the last 46 years was told about one specific incident in 2002 by eyewitness Mike McQueary (a graduate assistant and now assistant football coach) and didn’t report Sandusky to the authorities, is absolutely incredulous.  Paterno claims that he had passed along the information to his boss, former athletic director, Tim Curley, but why didn’t he confront Sandusky directly or go to the police with this information.

Both Curley and another high ranking Penn State official, Senior Vice President Gary Schultz, recently turned themselves in after being indicted for perjury and accused of failing to alert police about complaints.  In all likelihood, Paterno will never face such legal action, but could he have done more to bring this tragedy to light many years ago?  Absolutely.  Even Paterno admitted so himself in a recent interview.

What I have internalized from this tragedy is more the “cover-up” than anything else.  The question of why the higher-ups at Penn State did nothing to turn this into an investigation before Sandusky was able to get away with consecutive crimes against young boys is extremely thought provoking: To think “what would I have done in this situation” allows me to consider times when I may have “saw something happen,” but “did not say anything.”  The inaction of those at Penn State proves that a lack of public intervention can decriminalize the most vile of acts.  Even if only a few people (McQueary, Paterno, Curley) knew what had transpired back in 2002, the act of one person could have ultimately made the difference needed to stop Sandusky from ever committing another abusive act.

When it comes to morality and ethics, there is no “chain of command.”  You absolutely have the right and the authority to go straight to the authorities without getting permission from your superiors.  In New York State, the law actually permits the use of “lethal force” to stop a perpetrator during an act of sexual abuse.  Even if what is seen by a witness is so heinous that the witness refuses to fully comprehend, there should be an “open door” policy to pass the information along to the proper people.  In this regard, the entire Penn State community should be held accountable for years of incomprehensible behavior by one deviant animal of a human being.

I have been doing Crossfit since 2010, and I can honestly say this is the best workout community I have ever been apart of.  It’s so much different that your average gym.  You don’t walk in and start pumping out bicep curls and/or other lame isolation exercises.  You feel like your bettering yourself each and everytime you step in the gym on Washington St. near Federal Hill on the West side of Providence.

“The CrossFit Program was developed to enhance an individual’s competency at all physical tasks,” explains Greg Glassman, founder of CrossFit.  As explained by Glassman, in doing so, you are optimizing your physical competence in each of ten recognized fitness domains, including cardiovascular and respiratory endurance, strength, flexibility, speed, power, etc.

The break-down of each fitness session is extremely worthwhile in the sense that you are not only perfecting certain skills and movements in the beginning of each of session, but then you are putting them to the test in the “Workout of the Day.”  All along, you are getting instruction from one of the Cross-Fit trainers at CF Providence, like Judah, Mike, Adam, Bryce, Josh, James, Kelly, Megan, Gino, Tony, Andres, and many others.

When I first started Cross-Fit in 2010, I only lasted a few months.  I was overwhelmed by some of the movements and the toll it was taking on my body.  However, with the proper coaching, stretching, diet, and mental toughness, this can be overcome.  I on-boarded again in August of 2011 and I couldn’t be happier.  It’s good to be back with such a great group.

Link to CF Providence here:  http://www.crossfitprovidence.com

“I just talked to him a couple hours ago. He is doing great and exceeding the doctors expectations. He should be going home tomorrow or Saturday. He is now out of the trauma step down unit and in a regular bed. He also has his chest tube out and is off oxygen! Today he even walked a lap around the floor. It is still going to be a long recovery, but he is making progress!”

I also spoke to my dad last night and he is definitely ready to be leaving the hospital and heading home to rest and recover.  Although, it is going to be a long time before he gets on a bike again, I am sure he is optimistic about this next phase.  As my sister already eluded to, he is making progress and taking everything in stride.  Friends of Rick have told me, if there is anyone who can remain optimistic during a tough time, it is him!

Thanks to everyone who wrote me and/or I spoke to on the phone.  All of your overwhelming support and generosity has been great.  I am sure my dad appreciates everything you all have done for him.

I spoke to him tonight on the phone from his hospital bed.  He is in good spirits and was communicating what he remembers from after the crash.  He is currently resting and recovering at the hospital.  I should have more information later today and the upcoming days.  We are all lucky that he received the proper emergency care and that his condition is now stable.

He said he doesn’t remember anything after the crash until he woke up in the hospital sometime later Sunday afternoon.  Luckily, the CT scan revealed no damage to his brain besides a concussion.  If you would like more information from me, please e-mail me at andy.bailer@gmail.com.  Thank you for all of your caring and support as Rick recovers from this hard fall.

This past Tuesday night, August 16th, the Sound Cyclists Bicycle Club lost one of its most active members.  After over 1 year and several months of battling Stage 4 cancer, Janet Hansen passed away peacefully in a coma while under the care of Hospice.  Jan was a tremendously brave fighter, a mother of two young adults in their early twenties, and a wonderful operator of a kids’ daycare center in her hometown of Darien, CT.

Although I didn’t have the pleasure to get to know Jan as well as some of the other members of the Sound Cyclists’ bike club, I did get the chance to speak with her after her diagnosis in July of 2010.  Even when faced with with the terrible news, she still showed that positive human spirit, that courageous optimism that embodied her great personality.

This is what she said to me: “Yesterday I got some good results.  The cancer will never go away and the liver is a problem but the cancer is shrinking!!!  I was supposed to have an operation between Thanksgiving and mid-January for the original tumor on the colon..the size of a grapefruit..but…it disappeared!!!

She was a brave woman who always put others before herself.  She helped kids with disabilities learn how to ski.  She was the proud mother of two sons in college, helping them pave the way to be successful as young men in whatever they set out to do in life.  As for Jan, she came from a long line of engineers.  Her grandfather designed the windows for the Empire State Building and Chrysler Building.  While her boyfriend Bob Boothroyd, an architect and fellow member of the bike club, was making sure she was well taken care of, Jan didn’t hesitate to give some strong motherly advice that I will never forget:

“You don’t need to do anything.  Just be a good kid for your mom and dad.  Your mom and dad are truly wonderful people. Lucky young man you are.”  She is right.  I am not only grateful for my family, but I am also truly lucky to have met Jan and to share just a few short moments with such a great woman.

Here I was surrounded by athletic men in their early 50′s, who are regular weekend warriors when it comes to group cycling as part of the Sound Cyclist Bicycle Club in Fairfield County, CT.  You see, I am 25, I am in pretty good shape (I just finished a half marathon in May and also competed in a triathalon in July).  However, when surrounded by these coffee-drinking, Enduralite-popping men of a different generation, I quickly realized I was going to be put to the test.

My father invited me to ride with him and his buddies, but he didn’t tell me how long the ride he and his crew of spandex muscle shirts were taking me on.  All he said, was “try and keep up.” I quickly realized he wasn’t joking.  A guy named Will had already biked 20 miles as a pre-game.  My pre-game occurred the night before at a bar in Stamford, CT called Casey’s Tavern.  Up came a beer belch….As I struggled to keep up, a guy named Justin, who was about 5’8 and 140 lbs. told me that he eats diuretic foods so he is lighter on the hills. I quickly realized I was in trouble.

“How long is this ride?” I gasped to my dad. “You’ll see, just stay in your pace line,” he yelled.  Another gentleman named John was battling knee problems and was telling me how his wife convinced him to see a male masseuse at his age…At this point, I clamored for a female nurse…”Help me,” I pleaded to myself.  After I saw my total biking output for the year double in 1 hour, I knew this was going to be a long day.  Hill after hill into Westchester County we pedaled and I was dogging it.  The baby-boomers were killing it. “What are these guys on?” I wondered.  Is it lots of GU gel packets?  Do they shoot-up before their rides?  Do they listen to Pitbull and Neo, like me?  Is it Columbian coffee they drink?  Are all 50-year olds like this?

After surviving some treacherous uphill climbs on sections of Round Hill Road and Bedford-Banksville Road, we stopped in the Town of Katonah, about 25 miles away from home, so we could refuel.  At that point, I craved six White Castle sliders and a large container of Coca-Cola.  For the team of Will, John, and my dad, this was definitely a slower ride.  They had helped me through the process of pacelining and keeping up with the group.  They had also preached safety and precautionary cycling, as most everyone I talked to had been injured in some kind of accident.  “Our buddy went over the guard rail yesterday,” said Will.  “Makes me feel better about this sport,” I thought to myself.

On the way home, John told me to keep behind one of the stronger riders, Iain.  His steady strong riding and pulling for several miles allowed me to get some very needed rest before we attacked more hills.  “Just keep going,” I muttered softly to myself.  After 50 miles, two states, two Metro-North railroad lines, and a last minute crash and burn near my parents’ home in Greenwich, CT, I had survived the old man strength domination with the bad boys.  It’s funny how they used to be so peaceful in the 70′s.  “Will I be this strong” when I turn 50 I thought?  I can only hope I am enjoying the ride as much as they are when I get there.

What would you do if you caught Derek Jeter’s 3,000 hit, which just so happened to be a home run? Would you do what Christian Lopez did? I mean, this ball is worth more than student loans, more than a face-face meeting with the Captain himself. This ball is your ticket out of debt, out of New York, onward to bigger and better.

However, if you are the exception to the rule, like Mr. Lopez, you don’t think about money, about the “get out of debt free card.”  You are a baseball purist and a whole-hearted Yankee supporter.  You don’t care about how much the ball is worth to Sotheby’s or Steiner Sports.

In a society where instant gratification and sudden monetary gain outweigh a selfless act of baseball purity in almost every single human being, this Lopez kid is the exception to the rule. Even if you grew up your whole life rooting for the Yankees, idolizing Derek Jeter and what he means to the Yankees organization and the city of New York, when it is ever enough to settle for a small-time payout by an organization which treats millions like chump change.

Even if you are caught up in the moment, by the sheer euphoria of the hit, the home run, and the standing ovation, why not call your lawyer and get some protection?  After all, legal fees would be the least of your worries for a ball worth hundreds of thousands of dollars.  You could even write your initials on the ball just to be prove you were the one who caught it, like  Sal Durante, who caught Roger Maris’ 61st home run in 1961.

After all, hundreds of thousands in the bank is worth more than 15 minutes of fame with your boyhood idol? Isn’t it? Or, have I lost track of what it means to be selfless and pure?

This past weekend, I stumbled into the Best Buy location in North Attleboro, MA, unprepared and unwilling to part ways with my hard-earned pay check, unless a member of the Magnolia Home Theatre sales department did a fantastic job of selling me on a new television set. I walked in there with an attitude of a shrewd salesman. I wanted whoever I engaged with from the home television department to close me on the perfect piece of technology that would fit my budget. I was ready and willing to pull out all of my own sales techniques and capabilities, even if it meant getting a better deal or fighting tooth and nail for extra discounts and ad-ons.

After I searched throughout the store for the perfect counterpart within the Best Buy sales team to try out my newly found sales techniques and capabilities, I suddenly realized what I really yearned for was a level of comfort in this process. I wanted someone to guide me through all of the in’s and outs of consumer electronics, specifically home television equipment. I also had a strange feeling of being too materialistic in my quest for a television, that perhaps I wasn’t supposed to be yearning for the latest and greatest in flat screen, high definition televisions. To make a long story short, after a 10 minute discovery process with a gentleman named Myke (unique spelling noted), I finally settled on a 37″ Insignia television with HDMI quality picture and up to 1080p in crystal clear resolution.

Looking back on the short process, I can honestly say that the salesperson, Myke, did a great job of answering all of my questions, clarifying salient points, and making me feel comfortable in the process of seeking out a television set for my apartment.  He claimed that he did not work off any sort of commission structure and I was somewhat reluctant to believe him.  He did attempt to up-sell to me the extended warranty on the television and the in-home installation services, but I couldn’t help but think to myself that I do the exact same thing on a daily basis in my career as an inside sales rep for a master distributor of printing solutions.

Lastly, Myke did a great job of closing me on this television set and did express concern for my budget in the process.  It may have been one of the more inexpensive televisions in the store, but to me, it was all about the customer service experience.  I am sure the same principle is even more true for a very high-end customer expecting the ultimate in customer satisfaction.  When it came time for Myke’s review online, which Best Buy suggested I fill out to rate my level of customer satisfaction, I gave him excellent scores.  He didn’t get high marks because he closed me, but because he made me feel comfortable with excellent customer service throughout the process.

It is only five days before my first half marathon and I wanted to update the blog with my training progress.  I have been slowly increasing my distance over the last few months, getting all the way up to ten miles, before tapering down this last week.  Thanks to Hal Higdon’s “Training for Your First Half Marathon: Novice,” I feel as though I have exercised enough to run at a good pace on Sunday.  I am hoping for a time of under two hours, which will be around nine minute miles.  The weather is supposed to be cool and sunny (perfect for running), and I will be running alongside my 64-year old friend, Henry Janowitz, who has ran over 20 marathons in his lifetime.

As far as the race itself:  It is 13.1 miles (half marathon distance) and it is a relatively flat course, although it gradually increases and decreases elevation throughout the East Side of Providence, particularly in the Blackstone Boulevard section.  Here is a picture of the course map and a link to the Cox Providence Rhode Races website: http://www.rhoderaces.com/index.html.  See you on race day!