Gratitude Mission, Day 6: Say thanks for (or put some) fun in the mail

I rarely get meaningful snail mail anymore. It's kind of like an antiquated relic of the olden days it seems. The only thing I get in the mail are advertisements, bills, and very occasionally something from a relative.

That is except for the package I got in the mail a couple weeks ago.

It was a smallish box from the postal service which initially I was dumbfounded by because I couldn't think of anything Kim or I had ordered online recently.

It turned out to be a care package from the womens group at the Lutheran Church which my family is part of. It was actually the second one I had received from them although this one really surprised me because I expected it to be a one time thing, in fact my address had changed so they even took the time to track down my new address to send me another one.

The box was absolutely loaded with candy, snacks, and school supplies. They really went all out to spoil me. Although I'm not sure who ate more of it, me or my
roommate!

Needless to say this was a very kind gesture, and I was grateful to receive it!


Thanks again, Ladies of the Luthern Church!

Thank someone who makes a loved one’s life better | Day 5 of 30Thanks

Perhaps I'll allow myself to cheat slightly with today's gratitude mission. Instead of thanking just one person I would like to thank several people.

Those several people are my parents neighbors, and even though I don't live with my parents anymore I still very much think of them as my neighbors too.

I think as my brother and I got older and eventually moved out it was really nice to know that our parents were in good company.

It is difficult for me to pretend I know every way that our neighbors effect my parents lives, but I know for sure that it is such a positive one.

The newest member of our neighborhood community is Diane, who rents the trailer behind my parents house. I know that Diane has been one of the best tenants my parents have ever dealt with. She does a wonderful job keeping her place nice and is always paying on time. Not to mention the most important thing which is that Diane opens her deck to friends once a week and I know my Mom really enjoys being invited and socializing with her "girls group" or whatever shes calling it.

Of course I can't forget our other neighbors Karen and Caleb and their little girl Mikayla which I probably butchered the spelling of. Karen and Caleb are a lot of fun and I know my parents just love having a little kid around again. They were always saying I grew up too fast.

And there is Les and Mary who live on the other side of us, who my parents have lived beside for a couple of decades if I'm not mistaken. Les and Mary are two of the most kind hearted people I've ever met. Mary and my Mom both have that love of taking care of animals that exceeds normal amounts of compassion. Mary takes care of the neighborhood stray cats by giving them food and water. Not to mention several of her own. Les on the other hand is handy-man extraordinaire. A locksmith by trade but really he can fix or build just about anything. I know my parents feel very grateful for his skills! And I should mention that I DO TOO!!

And there is Ilene across the street who despite having some health problems and losing her husband recently is always seeming to radiate that positive attitude and kindness which is such a great quality in a neighbor. I know my parents like having her next to them. Getting a wave and a smile from Ilene is one of those things that is just part of being home.

This assignment is a little difficult because I think it is sort of hard to speak for someone else, and unfortunately I probably missed a lot of important details about why our neighbors make my parents life better, but I'm certain that they mean a lot to my parents. I've heard my mom say on several occasions that she feels really great about the little community they have and I know what she means.

Being surrounded by our great neighbors is definitely one thing I miss about home.

Thank a utility or service worker | Day 4 of 30thanks

Utility and service workers do so much for us and yet many of them remain unknown and nameless to us. We see them sometimes, in the thick of their work doing things to keep us comfortable and happy in our modern life and yet they are sometimes no more to us than "the guy" or "the woman" who does something.

Today I would like to thank one of those nameless workers, I don't mean "nameless" as a figure of speech either.. I do actually mean nameless.. sadly I never got his name.

He was the maintenance man at Colonial Crest apartments where my girlfriend and I recently lived in Bloomington.

Our experience living at that apartment was pretty sub par. Management was always changing and were generally uncooperative, the internet sucked, the building was old, the dish washer didn't work... basically everything you would expect from a relatively low-rent apartment complex.

However one major bright spot of our experience there was our maintenance man. Through our time at the apartment we ran into quite the far share of utility failures and appliance issues and the maintenance man was always very prompt in coming to our place to fix whatever we had wrong.

But really it wasn't that he was just prompt, he always had a smile on his face and he was just one of those people that radiated with positive attitude. I always felt like he liked coming to our place, and he always gave me a wave and smile when I saw him around the complex.

During a time when it seemed like a lot of our complaints were ignored he finished every job to the best of his abilities and often times got pretty dirty doing it. I felt very lucky to have a guy like him around us.

I feel bad because he always called me by name but I never did get his name...

Unfortunately I think many others know exactly what I'm talking about..to many of us these workers are nameless, even if we greatly respect the work they do.

Remember to get the name of your maintenance man next time, I'm sad I didn't, but I'm really thankful we had him and he is one thing I will always miss about those apartments.

Gratitude Mission, Day 3: Thank someone who makes you laugh

I thought I would get on this gratitude party my cousin is doing over on her blog marissabracke.com

There are a lot of people that make me laugh, both people that I know and people that I don't know. Interestingly the guy I want to thank for making me laugh today I don't actually know, but after listening to him several times I'm pretty sure I know more about him than most comedians!

That guy is Mike Birbiglia. I first heard this comedian on one my favorite podcasts (This American Life). Every time he does a segment on This American Life I laugh my ass off. I was immediately drawn to his style because it was very conversational and simple, and he was an excellent story teller.

A couple weeks ago I was overjoyed when I noticed updating my podcasts that he was featured on NPR's Fresh Air. (interview link)

In the interview he talks a lot about his life, and his style of comedy and he really hits on this idea that comedy is supposed to be about talking about stuff that makes us uncomfortable, and that is exactly what he does. Whether its talking about his first makeout session, getting bullied, his parasomnia disorder, or even his bout with cancer, he puts a lot of his personal life on the line, and casts it in a comedic light.

I could go on for quite some time about why I like Mike Birbiglia. To keep it short; When I'm commuting and he comes on my Ipod, I don't want the drive to end.

Thank you for making me laugh Mike Birbiglia.

A ride into the past

Tonight I decided to take a bike ride.

My first bike ride in years, and yes I suppose it is true that "You can't forget to ride a bike"

I pedaled across the streets and sidewalks of my childhood, basking in the ghostly humid dusk of early August. It's interesting how quickly a pleasure like bike riding is lost in the glow of late adolescence when the efficiency and allure of a car overtakes the old reliable bicycle.

It amazed me how the old wreck of simplistic machinery was able to evoke such vivid images of my past...Particularly the years before middle school. Something about summer always seems to hold a window to the emotions of yesterday.

As I drifted up and down the roads my mind remembered what summer meant as a child.

Long summer days, when time went slow and the joy of being young never ended. The nights spent swinging in the tire swing and whacking hockey balls against the stairs, playing video games in the crisp air conditioning, and of course riding bikes.

Back then I wished August would never come, because that meant school was almost starting again. There is something so sacred about nights of late summer. August meant finality, that all good things must come to an end, and yet even in the waning moments of summer there was still hope that there was still some summer enjoyment left.

Summer is so unlike any other season.. The days and nights are long, and the days and weeks bleed together in one sticky hot bliss, and yet it all seems to come to an abrupt end quicker than we want it to-- particularly as kids.

Sometimes I feel it is the only real bittersweet season, It lasts long enough to build such awesome soul embedded memories and yet it has such a definitive end.

As I've grown up I've began to look forward to school starting much more than I ever did before, but for some reason as I rode tonight that stirring childhood thought of the end of summer reminded me so vividly what it felt like to cling to those final moments.




Sam

The tune has changed

Today I logged another couple miles with my Dad

It was a nice relatively cool evening and there were a number of other people out enjoying the Ossian park trail.

As usual my Dad said Hello to every single one of them, except it so happened that every person we saw had headphones in their ears.

After a non-response from the second person with headphones in my Dad said something disgruntled about ipods and how he doesn't like them.

"Well Dad you know I run with an iPod if I'm not running with you" I responded..
"I know you do" he said back in a defeated tone.

It's a conversation we've had before...

It's centered around the idea that the current generation of technology has caused park-goers to become incredibly disconnected from the friendly "Hello's, and "how are you's" that my Dad believes are part of the way people should act.

In fact he once suggested that people should yell to people in front of them on the trails if they are approaching so that one person doesn't run into another.

I of course thought this idea was laughable considering the sheer number of people with headphones, as well as the fact that if everyone on foot stays in the same side of the track there should be no issues.

My Dad of course refused to see it that way, instead he thought it was just people "generally not giving a shit like they used to".

Interestingly it also brings up another point that technology has become much different than it used to.

"You know Dad, if you had iPods when you were younger you would have loved them too" I suggested

"I know it....we just never had anything that portable" He said again sounding slightly defeated.

Right after I said that we passed another person with headphones, this guy looked like he was around my Dad's age.

"See Dad, even that guy has an iPod" I said

"I bet if we got you an iPod and put some of your favorite music on it you would love it....I bet your mile times would increase quite a bit" I joked.

Dad then talked about some music he would like to put on an ipod, and agreed he would probably end up running faster.

I can't help but wonder what it will be like for me when I'm my Dad's age. Maybe ill look at the technology of tomorrow and think people are "missing the point" somehow.

I guess I'll have to get back to you on that one





Sam

90 Miles in 90 Days: A Father Son Adventure

The rebirth started in the fall,


The sport of hockey crept back into my life. As a young kid I was obsessed with hockey and for some reason all the passion and love of the sport came rushing back to me as I began following the game again.

Of course anyone who really loves a sport, also loves to play it. Hockey was no different. So the early fall of last year I began forming a roller hockey club at IU with other diehard hockey fans. Eventually we were playing 2-3 times a week whether it rained, snowed, or was 20 degrees. It didn't matter, as long as our goalie showed up and there was a hockey ball we played.

Of course playing roller hockey requires a good amount of endurance. Now at the time I was going to the gym regularly and had lost a good chunk of weight but I was still lacking in endurance. Hockey made me want to push myself even harder. This included attempting to run.

Running had always seemed to me as the ultimate test of fitness, no cardio-machine or indoor workout could match the sheer primal and visceral experience of shoes on pavement. So I decided to start jogging, which of course was pretty bleak at the start. My 240lb body and unconditioned cardio-vascular system would defeat me
on the track/trail much quicker than I wanted it to. So I amped up my workouts at the gym and played as hard as I could on the hockey court so that soon I could enter the holy grail of fitness.

Here's where my Dad comes in.

I'm home from school visiting my folks one weekend and I ask my Dad if he would like to go for a jog with me. Now my Dad hadn't run in at least 15-20 years (I think?) but I thought I would ask anyway.. I honestly figured it was a longshot if he was to say 'yes'.

I remember the conversation because my Dad quickly shot me down. It was a sort of trained response almost as if he accepted that with his age and work schedule any sort of physical activity like that would be silly. I didn't think much of it at first, but it wasn't long after that as I was started to get ready for my jog that he came in to my room and said "You know... I would actually really like to do that"

So my Dad went into his room and found an old ratty pair of running shoes from his days of when he used to run all the time- sometimes over 6 miles a day! and we set out for the park trail.

I guess that day must have been my dad's version of fitness re-birth. He realized that even being 60 years of age he could could still run. He was a shell of his former self in terms of how far he could run, but could still do it! After all those years he still had that spark of passion for an activity he used to love. Ever since that day my Dad has been running. He usually runs around the Ossian park trail and hes actually worked himself back up to being able to do 4 miles without stopping, a feat that continues to impress me and take pride in him. He might not say it, but I think hes pretty damn proud too of how far hes come and how long hes kept it up.

Since I've been home for the summer I've had the pleasure of sharing his experience and building my own fitness greatly. In June my Dad told me about a work incentive at his factory that encouraged participating employees to walk 90 miles in 90 days. Dad brought it up in casual conversation, one of many seminar's he attends at his work to kill 15 minutes of time that isn't spent on the factory floor.

As we went around the track that day I got to thinking that this 90 miles in 90 days could be something that Dad and I could do together as a father son activity that would also help us accomplish our goals. My dad joked that the prize is probably nothing more than a pat on the back and a sticker with his factories logo, but still.. it seemed to me like a great opportunity.

So we started it, each keeping track of our own miles since we often log miles at different times. Still it remains very much a shared activity. Along the way I've increased my physical condition greatly-- reaching fitness goals I almost never dreamed of. In fact when I first started attempting to lose weight and get in shape 2 years ago I remember walking the park trail because I was too out of shape to do anything else, and I kept thinking I can't wait until the day that I'm no longer too encumbered and out of shape so that I can run around this whole track without stopping. Today I can very proudly say that I can successfully run that track in under 12 minutes. Along with shedding even more pounds I've also increased my endurance significantly which has very much aided my hockey playing abilities.

As for Dad, I'm pretty sure it's been somewhat a piece of cake. I'm honestly not sure exactly how he does it. He works 40+ hours a week laboring in a hot factory and he still finds time to log a sizable handful of miles each week (running most of them) When our schedules have allowed us to run together it has been a great experience. My dad makes me laugh every time with his quirks, such as the fact the he feels the need to say hello to every single person that we encounter on our course. If he sees someone walking a dog, he always says "watch out, it'll bite your leg off" whether the dog is a Poodle or a German Shepard, it gets some curious looks sometimes but my Dad doesn't care. He comes from an era where apparently everyone was always neighborly and friendly... perhaps society would be better if everyone were still like that.

I finally convinced my Dad to buy a new pair of running shoes, since his were old and worn and it didn't take a running expert to guess that they probably weren't good for his joints. It took some pestering on my part but he finally decided to do it and I'm extremely proud he did. Not just because he works so hard and doesn't see a ton of payoff, but simply because it was a full on acceptance that running had once again become a true hobby for him. He had regained something that he lost earlier in life and he didn't want it to slip away from him again.

I hope nothing changes, Together Dad and I have both decided collectively, but in different ways that some things in life are worth being passionate for. Even if it means starting over at 20+ or 60+ it is never too late to do what you love.

I hope I can share many more miles with him




Sam