In The Chase. The sensations of running.

Sweat drips like a waterfall and I'm breathing heavily.  I'm trying to escape the pressures of the world and the demons in my mind.  I'm running away from them and toward my dreams.  Toward my goals.  With each step I feel them loosening their grip on me, breaking forward and exploring new places in the world.  Finding out what else I'm capable of. 

I'm older now, and I'm aware that I used to be able to run longer and faster.  Still, I can't stop myself from trying to get back to that place.  The one where I kept running for me, because it gave me the confidence to be myself.  I'm running up and down hills, near small houses and large.  I run through the farmlands, I run on the pavement of the streets and sidewalks.  I keep pushing myself, keep driving my legs and body forward and onward.  I don't want to give up because I don't want to stay still.  I need to continue moving in the right direction and doing the things that make me happy, and this is one of them.

I don't always run, but I find that running opens me up the most.  When I feel my lungs burst and my legs churn with every step, I feel something primal, as though it was something I was always meant to do in some capacity.

However to get to this apex of emotional feeling, you must endure some stress, and perhaps in some context, some pain. 

To start a run for me, requires a good bit of energy.  I don't wake up spry, feeling like I can take on the day.  I wake up, and either want coffee or to go back to bed. 

My warm up usually includes me listening to some kind of song that I've hooked on to that excites me and pacing madly around the house looking for my ear buds that I probably misplaced from the night before.  A little stretching so that I don't pull or twist anything, and then I'm off.  Usually the paths are familiar, but every now and then I like to put in a little twist to extend the run or to explore another part of the area. 

I've gotten in the habit of mapping and saving the runs to my smartphone to give me feedback.  This helps me with judging my pace and whether I can reasonably pick it up, as well as monitor how often I've run in the past few weeks or months.  It will be pretty interesting to see where all the numbers lie as the year progresses and things such as snow and the elements begin to have an effect. 

When I run, my mind wanders back and forth about things.  About my life in general, back to the road in front of me and everywhere in-between.  Sometimes I don't think at all and just listen to whatever is playing on my headphones, losing myself in the rhythms and words of Eminem or The Record Company or whatever else is inspiring me for the day.

In the middle of the run, or sometimes near the end, I imagine that I'm being chased, maybe by a dog or a person.  Every now and then I'm more creative and think it might be a mountain lion that springs out from the woods or a bear.  It helps to keep me pressing on the pace and to realize that I may have more in my tank.

There's something about the completion of a run that seems to set me up though for the rest of the day.  A feeling that I've somehow already beaten my toughest physical task and that from here on out everything will be a simple mental test of can you do it or not.

For others it might be time spent in the gym, lifting weights or doing yoga, and I've tried nearly all of them, but the simplicity of running just appeals to me more.  I feel like I'm moving almost with the Earth itself, becoming part of the world around me rather than a feeling of being stationary and unable to move.

In life, sometimes that's what it feels like the most.  This inability to move from one situation to another, as though you're stuck in mud and something is holding you back.  While I run, it feels like I'm constantly breaking those chains and getting out of the muck.  It's a sense of freedom that is unlike anything else.

The Affair, Birthday's and Chicken Carbonara

Like many couples, my wife and I watch certain shows together.  One of them happening to be "The Affair," which centers on the destructive power of trust being tarnished while giving the perspective of the character in the chapter. 

For example, from Noah's perspective in the show he is a misunderstood hero character.  Someone who is looking out for others while at the same time attempting to be the best father or companion he can be. 

For me this is kind of how I'll approach this article.  Written from my perspective about my lovely wife's birthday.




Part 1.  (of 1)

Ben.


It really all started at Wegmans, where Ben would wander section to section for each individual ingredient.  He didn't really know exactly where each item would be, and in fact the only basil he could find came as a full-on potted plant.

He bought a plant.

He fumbled his way getting the parsley leaves, wanting to not pay the $1.49 per bushel, he attempted to pull some out, put it in the bag and then weigh the item to see if he could pay less.

He couldn't.  The only price available for the parsley was for the entire bushel.  This meant he had to try and discard his prematurely stolen parsley, and not wanting to waste it, threw it with the small bag back behind the other bushels. 

He was pretty sure no one saw him, except for whatever poor soul had to watch security tapes from the store.

On he went through the store picking out each ingredient he read off from his phone.  The chicken, the eggs, the heavy whipping cream (He took 5 minutes to google the difference between heavy cream, half and half, and heavy whipping cream).  Ben would eventually settle on the Upstate brand of whipping cream after careful cost and flavor considerations.

Upon exiting the grocery store, he had a few more stops to make.  One being to the local jeweler to buy his wife something pretty. 

Ben had never been one for attempting to make the world around him beautiful.  He really barely knew how to dress himself in any kind of fashionable way, instead, relying on the work uniform, the advice of others, and an ability to stay away from daily social interaction to keep the myth that he understood what looked good or bad.

Buying jewelry was again, not exactly something he was good at.  So he improvised, giving a budget and attempting to relay his goal to saleswoman.  Something simple that would remind her of him, and he of this fun, fulfilling, and personal day.

When he arrived home, Ben began the cooking process as best he knew how.  He prepped the ingredients as similarly as he could to the Blue Apron dishes he and his wife had gotten in the mail from time to time.

Blue Apron would be proud

Needless to say at this particular juncture he was quite pleased with his efforts.  It all seemed so neat and orderly, as though he was on his way to a successful dish with minimal hassle (save for finding the ingredients in the first place). 

He then realized he had forgotten about the chicken, and his wife would be home soon.

While panic wasn't exactly striking him, a bit of unease and self-doubt certainly began to poke its head around the corner.

Quickly, he put the chicken in the oven to "roast" so that he could later shred and put in the pot.

The problem seemed to be the timing of it all.  For all the prep work he had previously done, he had failed to preheat the oven, and now time was ticking away.

Thankfully there was an antidote to that. 

For most people in general, after a day's work, and especially on your birthday you would probably want your vice.  Like the vast majority of the world, Allie enjoys a glass of wine after work.  For others, maybe a nice beer or a martini, or maybe you live in the free states like Colorado and California and like to light up some ganja. 

In any case, this birthday meant she would be able to enjoy one her simplest and most guilty pleasures: boxed Franzia wine. 

Yes, Ben could have bought a bottle of something else, but the reality has become clear to both of them that we can't detect a very discernible difference in most chilled wines.  A Pinot Grigio or "Crisp White" blend from Franzia is going to be at least as good as a 15-25 dollar bottle of whatever random California, South American, or Western European wine.  This obviously excludes Dr. Konstantine Frank's Gewurztraminer.  (That is a white wine that I simply find out of this world with spice and flavor.)

A teacher's kryptonite

When she finally gets home, she walks through the door and she is all smiles.  Seemingly not a care in the world and so happy to be home.  The feeling is completely mutual.  They both feel all the pressures of the world just fade away.  Here they are, home. They feel at peace, and nothing can hurt them. 

They embrace for seconds, but it feels like days.  Kisses and the typical couple talk ensues, and eventually time and place comes back into the fold.

Ben springs for the wine glass, pausing briefly in mid-stride to ask if she actually wanted the wine. 

She's enthusiastic and buoyant with a proclamation of "Yes!"

The chicken comes out, but Ben feels it's still underdone.  He shreds the chicken as best he can, then puts the chicken back into the oven and lowers the heat on the pancetta that he had started.  The recipe called for the pancetta to slightly cool anyway while the water for the pasta boiled. 

In a large bowl, Ben whisked together some of the prepared ingredients.  He added slightly more pasta then the original recipe asked for and was hopeful that a slight adjustment for some of the other ingredients would be enough. 

Once the chicken was cooked a bit more thoroughly, Ben combined the chicken and the pancetta, thoroughly mixing the two together and cooking on a medium to low heat.  Then he poured the pasta on top, then the cream sauce, mixing it all together and becoming increasingly confident that the meal being created would be one of the best he had ever made.

A goober unnecessarily
confident about his cooking

From there dinner would be served the way that all meals are served.  With a bit of garnish and flair so that when captured for a short Snapchat or Facebook post, it would make other people respond with a bit to share in that happiness.

But Ben, for what seemed like the first time in a long time, felt aware that there would be more to this story than just a quick little picture.  So he decided to take many pictures of the process, and then write about it.

What was making this day wasn't one moment in particular, it wasn't one thing.  It was the multitude of steps and moments strung together to make that delicious meal.  Every thing moving as if connected on a string.  It started with a trip to Wegmans, then as the moment hits about how special this day is going to be, to really stay in the moment and live it.  To remember how it feels to celebrate the birthday of a loved one.

From there it becomes a journey and at the end you arrive at a place that's so unapologetically happy that you can't hide it.  That it'll make you want to take pictures of your food and share them with others.  To enjoying a night watching a fictional show that exploits the viewpoints of others to tell its stories.  Ben felt that he had helped to make this birthday a successful one.

When you're so happy you just
want to take pictures of food.

Getting back in the habit. A moment to reflect on who I've been, and who I want to be.

Who are you going to be?

Who is the person that you see in the mirror and is it the person that you envision yourself to be when people ask who you are? 

The ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle said "We are what we do.  Excellence then is not an act but a habit."

I have tried to make my habits productive ones.  I have tried to exercise on a near daily basis.  I have tried to write at the same level.  I have tried to serve others in a positive way.  Indeed my profession in the hospitality industry demands that I look out for others first and to be as selfless as possible.

Over the past year I have found that it's been difficult to focus on those things as the world around me has changed dramatically.

It started with the election of Donald Trump as President.  A man whom I detest at the very core of my being.  A man who I believe to be beneath the office of President and simply looks out for his own well-being and has little interest in the plight of others.

Soon after his election, my grandmother died of cancer.  

The values that my grandmother instilled in me were the opposite of what Trump has stood for.

She cared about the environment, about giving and helping those less fortunate, and perhaps most importantly about treating all people with dignity and respect.

She ate healthy, was physically active and came from a line of genetics that suggested that she may live well into her 100's.

The fact that cancer came into her life and stole those remaining years came as such a shock to our family that I still don't know that we've reconciled with.

As time passed a sense of determination, and maybe even anger, started to take hold of me.  I did not want anything to do with those that embody the selfish virtues that were being espoused by Trump.  I found him and his ilk to be the antithesis of what my grandmother stood for.

At every turn I looked to stamp out the selfish impulses that I saw in my workplace and attempted to guide those who would look to satisfy their own wants and needs to think of others first.

But I found that my attempts to shed light on the self-centered actions of others was not well received.  Instead, I was now seen as a pariah, a holier than thou outcast that existed now on the outside of a culture rather than the core.

I have never been one that would conform to the outside pressures of the world.  I have always done what I thought was best at the time, even at times to my own detriment.  

I promised my grandmother that I would write everyday.  That I would read something everyday.  That I would do something physically active everyday.

As of now I have failed on those promises, and on some level I knew I was going to fail.  The idea of writing, reading, and working out all the time seemed doable, but as time passed it was far easier to watch Netflix and play games after work.  

I would become distracted by the news of the day that inevitably involved the leader of this country doing something else that I disagreed with.  Another mass shooting that seemed intrinsically sad because we continue to refuse to address gun violence; the continued bias against minorities by law enforcement.

It all continues to add up, and I had begun to feel as though my attempts to influence the world in a positive way had little impact.

It is time for me to get back to the person I was prior to the election of Trump.  Get back to the writing, the exercise, and an undaunted pursuit of excellence within my field.  

In many ways I've been headed back in that direction the past few months, writing and exercising with more regularity.  

I feel good, as though the future that I desire is right in front of me for the taking.

Socrates once said "The greatest way to live with honor is to be what we pretend to be."

I interpret that to mean to be the people that we say we are.  We all to some degree try to project an image of some sort.  However, as human as we are, we sometimes fail to achieve to "be" that image.

For me, I'm hoping that I can continue to take the steps necessary to be that man of excellence that habitually does the things that I want to do.

To me it starts with whatever the first thing you do in morning might be.  Did you start in motion or did it take you a while to warm up?  For myself, it seems better that I start my day with a chore, exercise, or something that get's me going that I really don't want to do. 

The more I procrastinate, the more stress I seem to create for myself.  Even if I begin the day with a light 10 minute's worth of stretching, I feel as though that helps get my body ready to move and remain active through the day.

When I write, like this article here, I need to be less critical of myself and trust that I have something interesting to say.  I have long lamented how many article's I've written and not submitted simply due to fear of how it might be received, or weakness in grammar or spelling. 

I need to trust that process and submit the work out there.  This process feels like the one I need to work on the most. 

Finally, I need to relax about when I don't do the right thing.  My habit's won't be perfect to start, and there are going to be times when the reality of the world might interfere with getting certain things done that I had set out to do. 

If I can do these things, I believe that I can get back to the version of myself that wasn't as concerned with the thing's that I can't control, and give me more control over the things that I can.