Posts Tagged happiness

The Art of Running in the Rain

I woke up today at the usual ungodly hour. After silencing one of my many alarms, I heard the hushed sound of falling rain outside. It was a scheduled day for a run. As I began going through the daily morning routine, I weighed my options. Yes, I have run in everything from blizzards to hurricanes, but with the current pandemic of flu circulating, I preferred to reduce my risk of lowering my immune system and tempting fate. After further consideration, I decided to go out for the run.

For the twenty plus years I have been actively running, some of my best runs have been in the rain. I really cannot point to one reason why, it is just the way it usually works out. People who are not avid (read fanatic) runners often ask why anyone would go for a run in the rain during near freezing temperatures, while the runners just smile and nod. Perhaps it is my knowing that during those days I will only see the most diehard runners out there and we will nod and wave in a mutual understanding; or maybe it is more that I know that I will rediscover the reason or reasons I run.

Over the past few years I have been dealing with a few nagging injuries, the latest one sidelined my running for several months. Recently, I have begun slowly working back up to the speed and mileage that I had prior to the injury. It has literally been a process of re-education on the basics of running; mentally and physically. Running in the rain presents additional challenges like avoiding puddles, potholes, and drive-by tsunamis. Throw in the fact that at this time of year I run before daylight and the logistics can be more than a little disconcerting while recovering from an injury.

Still, I embraced the challenge. As I set out on the run, the rain fell lightly, without any discernable breeze to complement it. The temperature was well above freezing, so ice was not an issue. Out on the road, I had to plan my steps well ahead of time, avoiding all that I could without the benefit of ambient light. Only two cars passed me around West Chop, normal for this season. I began to get a feel for where to step and where to avoid, even while correcting my stride and pace for my still recovering injury. While the run was challenging, I felt more confident with every passing mile.

I continued to run past my initial turn that would have ended my usual loop. With my confidence bolstered and my stride having become quite comfortable, I decided to extend the distance just a bit. When I did turn to begin the final leg of the run, I had the energy and rhythm to increase my pace ever so slightly; something that had not been the case for quite some time while recuperating. At the end, I felt tired, but not spent. The rain continued to fall as I went inside the house to stretch and cool down.

Once again, one of my best runs happened as rain fell consistently, challenging conventional thoughts otherwise. As I reflect on that run, I find the parallels to my life of the past several years, persevering through conditions that many others might falter or concede. The fact that I (or anyone) simply continues on and deals with whatever life doles out is a testament of the human spirit. Sometimes we can sidestep the puddles, other times we just need to splash right through them in order to reach the other side. Whatever it takes, just keep running.

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Buy Local. Buy Lemonade.

Not too long ago I was walking to the post office and found some young entrepreneurs hawking their wares on the public square. Yes four girls were selling lemonade on a bright, sunny late summer day. Their chaperone was standing a few feet away, supervising their capitalistic endeavor. I had the privilege to be their first customer, gladly paying the sum of fifty cents for a refreshing taste of their product.

The girls had beckoned me to their stand like a barker at the fairgrounds. The fact that I stopped sent them into a near frenzy. Apparently the prospect that they could actually make some money had not really occurred to them. They scurried to decide who would do what: pour the lemonade, hold the cup, and collect the money. For their first sale, it came together quite quickly, with a little help from their supervisor.

Following the transaction, I posted a picture of their “pop-up” to twitter, just to aid their cause. I have no idea how the rest of their day went, but I know I got my money’s worth. I was only too happy to let the world of social media in on my little discovery.

Now granted, I was not thirsty. There are times in life where we all do things just because it is the right thing to do; supporting a youth sport, helping a stranger in distress, offering a kind word to brighten someone’s day. The fact is, if I can make four kids giddy over setting up a lemonade stand to earn a little money and make memories that will last a lifetime, my fifty cents spent that day was possibly the best fifty cents I had spent in many years.

Lemonade

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Taste of the Vineyard Bucket List

I have been living and working on Martha’s Vineyardfor nearly 15 years now. The list of things to see and do on this island is literally never ending. Some may prefer the natural beauty the island offers, others the social activities. While I tend to favor the former, I recently attended one of the latter. The experience will be described in the following recollection, to the best of my ability.

A friend of mine recently shared that she had a “bucket list” of things she would like to do before she leaves the island. On that list was the “Taste of the Vineyard Gourmet Stroll”, which is an annual event in Edgartown. (http://www.mvpreservation.org/p.php/preservation/happening/taste-of-the-vineyard-gourmet-stroll?_f=w) The shindig is actually a benefit for the Martha’s Vineyard Preservation Trust. I am not familiar with this organization beyond what I read on their website, but it all sounds well and good. Now the “proceeds” are derived from the tickets, which cost $150 this year. For someone that spends less than that each month on groceries, it seems a bit much for several hours of “tasting”, but not for the Vineyard. But I digress.

The day of the event I was “gifted” a ticket. Well I’m not one to let a free meal go to waste, so I was on the phone (okay I was texting) to my aforementioned friend; she already had her ticket. Plans were made; wear this, be there then, text me when you arrive. Now, I rarely go to Edgartown. Parking on a normal day “in season” is a fiasco and this would just be worse. If you know the street layout you can park and walk a block or two and still be able to make a left turn at the end of the event and escape the town without hitting gridlock. Aside from that, I rarely iron a Brooks Brothers shirt for dinner, let alone don a tie, but I did for this. I know… imagine that.

Okay, so the line to get in was long and chaotic; poor planning mingled ticket holders with the “will call” attendees. Most guests dressed to impress, others not so much. Gold lame’ to ripped jeans, it was all there. (Hey, it’s the Vineyard way.) Once we were “in” the venue (tents with temporary flooring) it was quite apparent that every one of the several hundred ticket holders was in attendance. The place was PACKED. It reminded me of riding the 4/5/6 subway line on the Upper East Side during rush hour, except here those random hands you feel from time to time brushing up against you are merely reaching for food samples, I assure you. Then there was the noise. I’ve never been to a big city night club, but I can imagine this was on par; you needed to press your head against the person you were speaking to for then to hear you. This was not even near the dance floor, where the band was blasting the entire time.

Yes, there was food. Yes, there was beer and wine. Dozens of vendors with samples for all; as much as you could handle, or should I say get your hands on. The shuffle of people around the venue was like a conga line with tapas and alcohol. By the way, how can you go wrong with cheese and puff pastry? After ninety minutes or so of trying to sample while acknowledging people I knew, I retreated to a spot near the dance floor. Aside from a spell outside to give my eardrums a rest, I remained a safe distance from those people dancing and singing in front of the stage, just people watching. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves; a few even a little too much. By ten o’clock it was all over, crossed off the Vineyard bucket list. I wonder what’s next on that list…?

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Lather Rinse Repeat

The past few days have been unseasonably warm on Martha’s Vineyard. Track & Field season has begun. All signs point to the beginning of the busy season for my schedule. The mental list of things to do will soon morph into a daily routine that will eventually become a grind sometime in August and continue until the tourists decide it is over. We all have our routines that we follow; morning coffee, time in the gym, reading before bed. Whatever the routine might be, it is always good to consider whether you shape the routine, or the routine shapes you.

Often is the case that we continue to do something a certain way because “that’s just the way it’s done”. The zombie-like movements proceed without much thought or consideration; making coffee, driving to work, folding laundry. Still, why can’t it be done differently for any reason, if not simply to break up the monotony? I admit it, I get so engrossed in the processes of my routine that it can sometimes appear obsessive-compulsive at times, but it works for me; so why would I mess with it?

Among the many sayings that I can think of that would explain why one should always question one’s perspective, I favor “seeing the forest through the trees”. Often it requires us to take a step back from the process in order to see it for what it is; mechanical, uninspired, and tedious. Other times someone outside of the process will bring it to our attention that there seems to be something lacking in our routine; energy, awareness, or passion. Whenever or whatever brings this revelation to light, proper action should be taken, as soon as possible.

The actions taken to revamp one’s routine, whether they are subtle or revolutionary, they should reflect the need and subsequent anticipated reactions to the changes. For personal changes, it might mean just taking a few extra moments to chew your food at mealtime. Professional changes might mean reconsidering your employment situation, but if you are where you want to be, redesigning your business card or website might be enough.

Where all of this is leading should be toward improvement. After all, progress in life is the ultimate goal; professional, personal, or otherwise. So take a minute or two, breathe a little deeper and look around to see where you are, what you are doing, and decide whether a few small adjustments are needed to make things a little more interesting. Life should be more than following the same steps throughout the day, every day.

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Island Time

What is your time worth? Well I suppose that most of us value our time rather highly. Life usually seems to fly by at such a pace that there never seems to be enough hours in the day. So whether it is time on the clock or family time, few of us would like to have our time taken from us by others; waiting in lines, finding a parking space, driving behind a moped (or two, side by side). The dichotomy of owning a business on Martha’s Vineyard is that there are only so many weeks to make money from tourists that want everything at the same time; dinner reservations, ferry reservations, appointments, rentals. The notion that other vacationers might actually want exactly what they want, when they want it, seldom occurs to them; unbelievable.

When the off season stretches into the doldrums of February and March, many businesses tend to cut back on their hours, if not close out right for a period of time. Still, there are days where every business needs to have posted hours and stick to them, if only to maintain a presence in the community. As a business owner, I understand the concept of regular hours and their importance. What I fail to understand is when people try to schedule outside of those hours, for no real reason other than wanting to do so. From May until late October I have rarely taken a day off since arriving on the island. This past holiday season I had clients calling the office late on Christmas Eve, asking if I were available for an appointment; the message said the office was closed until the 27th.

In the throes of August, the height of the season, I have clients that show up rather tardy for their appointment. The scenarios run the gamut, from apologies to passive aggression; time waits for no one and I run a tight ship. The point being that we all must accept responsibility for our short comings or indiscretions. Clients that call up late to either cancel or reschedule an appointment due to a “conflict” usually understand that they will be held responsible for the missed appointment. A few will try to negotiate; seldom with success.

Years ago I was having dinner with a group of fellow business owners. When cancellations became a topic, one of the proprietors gave an example of how the conversation would go. He simply explained to the responsible party that a reservation at his inn was comparable to a reservation on the ferry, if you show up after your reservation has left the dock, and there is no stand-by, there is no refund; you will be charged. I have used that example and others, as the situation calls for, with little ill will or resentment. Other times, things don’t go so amicably, but it is the give and take of being a business owner.

As the summer season approaches, my fourteenth on Martha’s Vineyard, I tend to turn down the seventh and eighth session of the day; I have come to value a steady pace rather than a mad dash, and my sanity is the better for it. I no longer accept the drama of the client that MUST see me TODAY, even though it is already after 2 PM. They might only be here for a short time in the summer, but I live here year round. This is my home and I value my time here.

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Going the Distance

How far would you travel to get to a party? What about going to see a really great musical act or movie? Would you drive for more than an hour? If you live year round onMartha’s Vineyard, chances are you are less willing to drive than you are to complete your annual tax forms. There seems to be some sort of malaise when it comes to travelling once one resides on island for any period of time. Call it one of the idiosyncrasies of island life. Allow me to provide a little background information before I elucidate the phenomena.

When I worked as a private investigator aroundNew England, I drove hundreds of miles every day. In less than one year I drove sixty thousand miles for work alone. I drove from Denver, Colorado to Mystic, Connecticut in less than thirty-six hours, non-stop. The odometers of my collective driving career total over half a million miles, amassed while driving nearly a dozen automobiles. Through all sorts of weather, at all types of traffic and terrain, it rarely mattered to me once I started on the journey; as long as I was off island.

During my first season living and working on Martha’s Vineyard, I barely used a single tank full of fuel in my car. My commute to work took less than ten minutes on my bike. Truth be told, I probably ran more miles training for marathons than I did driving that summer. Aside from saving money and getting more exercise, it felt a little more liberating knowing that I did not have to worry about finding a parking space, let alone getting a parking ticket, whenever I rode my bike or walked to my destination.

Still, whenever there was something happening at night or on another far flung part of the island, use of a car was pretty much mandatory, especially when going with someone else. As time passed, and the weather turned colder and less conducive to non-automobile forms of travel, decisions had to be made. Conversations would go something like this: “Hey, are you going to the film festival tonight?” “The one happening in Chilmark; no, that’s too far out to drive.” “Dude, you RAN ten miles this morning!” “Yeah, but not to Chilmark; that’s like WAY out there.”

So the conversations often go here on island. “There’s no parking in ______.” (Edgartown, Oak Bluffs, Vineyard Haven) “I don’t feel like driving ALL THAT WAY and not find parking.” Forget taking the bus unless you are going to school because in the off season, the route coverage is scant at best, even in the middle of the day. You could always call a taxi, but seriously; you own a car, why would you call a taxi?

Perhaps I’m a bit jaded or just more of a curmudgeon, but I have heard the same story from many of the residents relating to social or non work related travel on the island. Actually, I have actually turned down work that would have required me to travel to, wait for it, Chappaquiddick. Okay, discuss…

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Holed Up On Island

I just finished off an Italian sausage sub the size of my head. It took me all afternoon, but I did it. I also consumed about a pound of raw string beans, a head of steamed broccoli, a couple of handfuls of pistachios, several tangerines, and whatever I ate for breakfast. I’m still hungry. Before you think that I have given up and given in, you should know I have been doing double workouts every day. Yes, one before work and another after. It’s what I do to pass the time. Borderline OCD, it actually keeps me sane. That and blogging. I have several online. Under various identities, maybe you have already seen them?

Okay, so I do leave the island every now and again to fulfill certain familial obligations, as well as tend to off island business interests. I would rather not leave my island lair, but life is sometimes cruel that way. I wonder how long a reader would continue to read this post if I simply extolled the virtues of my magic bed that remains toasty warm nearly an hour after I drag myself from it’s warm embrace to brew the daily yerba mate’. It calls to me as the Sirens called to Odysseus; threatening to ruin my morning schedule. It is worse in the doldrums of February and March, when then sun does not rise until after 6 AM.

A schedule is the saving grace when the office hardly warrants more than three days of tending each week. Make a plan and stick to it; no distractions, no procrastinating, no excuses. Go to bed earlier rather than sleeping later; stick to getting up at a set time every morning. These are not resolutions, these are rules, people; we all need rules to function in society, or so I’m told.

Getting the morning workout done actually feels liberating. If nothing else is accomplished the rest of the day, the morning workout has been done. The second workout of the day is for those truly motivated individuals that feel the need, like runners and bodybuilders. The best part about working out is the eating; you can eat more to fuel your workouts, which brings me to the food.

This time of the year, the pantry seems to yield staples that have not been seen since I don’t know when. Packets of Indian food from Trader Joe’s get mixed with wild rice that was left behind by some long forgotten roommate. Vacuum packed MREs given as gag gifts are eaten with gusto when given a dressing of green curry. Sure there are occasions when one will splurge on some purchase at Stop & Shop or even Cronig’s, but that is the exception when there are several more months to budget before new revenue begins to roll in to replenish the coffers. I actually set aside one day each week to indulge, just to give me something to look forward to.

So there are several more weeks to go before the Spring Track and Field season starts, when my time is no longer my own; there will be no “home” meets this year, as the track has deteriorated to such an abysmal condition that it has been deemed “unfit for competition”. Long travel days lay ahead for the entire season. Another reason to continue to make the most of the time that is mine, while I bide my time until the days when the sun inspires us all to “rise and shine” and once again be sociable, possibly even civil, once more.

There is another way to guarantee to make an islander greet you warmly, possibly even invite you in for some conversation, bring food; fresh baked goods, savory slow cooked foods, or rich calorie dense desserts. Enough said, go in peace.

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