on the iPod: "stereo hearts" -- gym class heroes
There's not many conditions in which I won't lace up for a good run. When I first began, which I think was some 12 years ago, I would almost always go out around 5:30 after getting off work, in the heat of late summer afternoons. To the best of my recollection it was August and hot as Hell outside; that particular brand of stifling, humid Arkansas heat that instantly bathes one in sweat as soon as you leave the air-conditioned confines of home. So in some ways I was baptized by fire into my passion for running. I was naive and didn't know any better.
Learning how to run reminded me of playing outside in the summer evenings growing up. Those were great times of life and we made the most of every night, so much so that my mother wouldn't allow me to bring my shoes into the house. I can also remember my sister and her friends, particularly Stephanie, verbally shaming me because my feet stunk so bad. They were absolutely rank, and I seemed oblivious to the nature of their true foulness. Twelve year old boys don't give a rip about stuff like that, in fact it's almost a badge of honor to have really stinky feet.
So I continued to run in the heat and began to really enjoy the miles. It got me out of my house and gave something with which to identify. Back then, I needed an identity. Then came winter, and there was no way that I was going to go outside and freeze my ass off, so my running got put on hold. Picking it back up that following spring, I ran my first 5K and continued on with further distances as the summer heat came back with a vengeance. The rest is history: i've run in all types of weather, including ice and snow. But the summer months are still my favorite. Hands down, I love the heat. Bring it on and make it hot, because I can take it.
This weekend's long run brought with it another weather obstacle: wind. A lot of wind. Like big winds. Like Dorothy-getting-blown-around-the-farm-with-Toto kinda winds. I kept waiting for the Wicked Witch of the West to peddle by in black and white on her bike. Mrs. Murie and I set out nonetheless, for a planned distance run that we were both looking forward to. Within the first mile we were battling pretty strong gusts in our face, but it didn't matter. We were two friends out on a fall morning, enjoying life and the sport we love so much. There were instances of calm skies, but they were few and far between; the majority of our mileage was like running across the flattest parts of Oklahoma in the middle of tornado season. I'd like to say that it made me a stronger runner, or that somehow the wind was like an abstract metaphor for the trials and tribulations of life, but the truth is that it simply just sucked. Regardless, i'd rather being on a long run in the wind than doing just about anything else on a Saturday morning.
Finishing around 8:30, we warmed up with hot chocolate while the weather continued to whip and swirl. And it wasn't about to let up for the rest of the day. The last home football game at Razorback Stadium was slated for a 5:00 o'clock kickoff, which meant the final tailgate of the season would be a big event. I was primed for a great afternoon with my friends, and even more excited that Mrs. Murie was going to make her inaugural appearance. I was happy to share a bit of my world outside of running with her, because the truth is that my great friends like the Hottingers, Uncle Lewis, and the Helfs, are just as important to me as lacing up and running marathons. I couldn't ask for better friends in life and I hope they know how much I love them. We've thrown great tailgates over the years and this one was no exception. Except for the wind. Lots of wind. Constant wind. Really strong wind. Did I mention the wind???
This is how the tailgate works: Chris and I set up our tent every Friday before home games around 5:00. It works well because his office is very close to the stadium. Already noticing the wind, I distinctly remember having a conversation with him about whether or not we should leave the canopy off of the metal frame in case the gusts got stronger overnight. He said everything would be fine, despite my warnings to the contrary. (Okay, that's not true, he actually tried to warn me but I couldn't be bothered to pay attention to him.) Everything was fine when we left that Friday evening. Everything was fine on Saturday morning when I dropped off a couple cases of beer. Everything was not fine when it was time to tailgate. It seemed as though our brave and courageous tent picked a fight with Mother Nature and she won. Bigtime. Below are before-and-after pictures of just exactly what we were dealing with. Damnit!
This is what the tent looked like when we left Friday afternoon. Beautiful. WPS!!!
This is where we found the tent. Notice that it's upside down and about to blow into Stadium Drive. Not so beautiful. WPS!!!
Here's the tent after we dragged it back up the hill in a mangled, destroyed heap. WPS!!!
But being the really awesome, die-hard Arkansas Razorback fans that we are, the tailgate went on despite having no covered shelter. Discussion centered around beating the Tennessee Volunteers and the various scenarios that can play out with the BCS bowl rankings, but, like always, we mostly just enjoyed each other's company. That's what always seems to happen when great friends get together. We laughed and joked about the calamity of our situation, as tailgaters around us continued to battle the blustery afternoon. On more than one occasion, we witnessed large gusts overturning tables of food and picking up tents from their footings. The wind never seemed to let up and neither did the spirit of the day. It wasn't the prettiest tailgates we've ever thrown, but it's one that i'll never forget. I hope there's more.
Arkansas pounded Tennessee by multiple touchdowns in a game that was heavy on passing yards, the quarterbacks seemingly undeterred by the obvious constraints of the evening. Jason and Sarah were in town from Chicago and it was great to spend the evening watching SEC football with them both. Like troopers we stuck it out until mid-way through the fourth quarter, long after the game was out of reach for the troubled Volunteers. After a few cups of hot chocolate and a group photo from Pig Heaven, we bailed with seven minutes left in the game, heading back to the tailgate and one final hoorah under the nearby stadium lights. Watching fireworks signaling a final touchdown, another outstanding weekend came to a close.
I love the Arkansas Razorbacks and college football. And I love running even more. Wind? I can it or leave it, but no matter how hard it blows it'll never be able to overcome good times with great friends. There's nothing better than that.
Run.
No comments:
Post a Comment