Die Mannschaft

At times, the World Cup appeared a battle of one-man teams:

Messi

Neymar

Pirlo

Robben

Rodriguez

Ronaldo

Suarez

And one by one they fell – to injury, to opponents, to hunger – until only one was left: Messi.

But Messi faced die Mannschaft:

Khedira

Klose

Kroos

Muller

Neuer

Schweinsteiger

Argentina had brought Messi, but Germany brought a Team.

Germany also brought Mario Gotze.

Gotze – substituted for Klose – scored the winning (and only) official goal of the match (113′).

Die Mannschaft hat Weltmeister bekommen.

Germany Champions
I made this early so I could send it out in seconds! 

Thoughts on the World Cup

World Cup 2014 LogoDear US Men’s National Team “Soccer Fans” on my Facebook feed,

Everything was fine until you showed up. Really, it was. I could cheer on my team in relative peace and quiet, free from threats and trolling. Absolutely nobody cared.

But now you are here, and all of that is gone. Now, you think you own me.

Let’s get one thing straight: I owe you neither an explanation nor an apology. In fact, I don’t owe you anything. But you seem to think I do.

Fact: I’ve been cheering for my team since 1994.

Fact: You’ve been cheering for your team since June 16.

Now, if this were any other sport, you’d have some very pointed remarks if I suddenly switched teams just because one of them was doing better than expected. You’d say that I was a bandwagoner or a fair-weather fan. Profanity might be involved at some point.

There’s only one American team I cheer for in any capacity: the UConn basketball team. I’ve cheered for them since I was old enough to know that college basketball was a thing. I can only imagine what you’d say to me if I started cheering for Duke or UNC or Kansas or Kentucky just because UConn was having a bad year.

In the same way, there’s only one team I cheer for in the World Cup: Deutschland. That’s Germany for those of you new to the game. Oh wait, that’d be all of you. And that was never a problem. At least, it wasn’t ‘til you came along.

You see, for years you didn’t care about soccer. I would argue that you still don’t care, but that’s not the point. You didn’t care because America sucked. And you didn’t care about America’s suckiness because soccer wasn’t an “American Sport.” You didn’t care about soccer because you couldn’t gloat. America wins the so-called “World Series” and “Super Bowl” simply because other countries don’t show up. Oh, all right, I know Canada may be involved in the World Series. I honestly don’t care for either baseball or football. At least now you might know the difference between football and futbol.

But now you care. So when you post a status update on Facebook or a tweet on Twitter, you get dozens – maybe even hundreds – of likes and retweets and support.

When I post the same in support of my team, I get things like

Turn in your America card.

You’re being unpatriotic. You know that, right?

You’re dumb.

You’re a moron.

You’re out of control.

You should be deported.

You’re a Nazi.

If you support another country the government should give you a one way ticket to live in that country since you love it so much.

USA! USA! USA!

And these are just the ones I can repeat.

I could counter your arguments with logical, thought out responses. However, that would imply they are worthy of debate. Suffice it to say your comments prove you know nothing of the sport or of history.

I don’t go trolling you every time you post something about your team; why must you do it to me? Let the score speak for itself. After all, that kind of is the point.

You know, I don’t really care that you support the USA. That’s fine. My friends support England and France and Brazil and Chile. One or two of them might even support the USA.

What I do care about is the fact that you’re bringing the traditional American arrogance and superiority complex to a sport that you haven’t cared about in decades, if at all. I can only imagine the terror you will unleash upon the world should you actually win.

Now knock it off before you ruin it for everyone.

Sincerely,

Me

Author’s Note

I realize that not all American supporters act like this. Some have supported the team since day one. That’s great; it’s what the sport needs.

This letter is written from my personal experience and is directed at those on my Facebook feed (and those that act like them) and not necessarily to all American supporters in general.

This post is being published as part of Writing 101. Challenge 19: Write at least four-hundred words, and once you start typing, don’t stop. No self-editing and no second guessing: just go. Bonus points if you tackle an idea you’ve been playing with but think is too silly to post about.

Jabberwocky

I find the poem “Jabberwocky” to be quite conducive to keeping a steady running pace. I present it here for your enjoyment:

Jabberwocky

from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There

Jabberwocky

by Lewis Carroll

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
     Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
     And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son
     The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
     The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand;
     Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
     And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
     The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
     And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
     The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
     He went galumphing back.
“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
     Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
     He chortled in his joy.
‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
     Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
     And the mome raths outgrabe.

This post published as part of NaBloPoMo 2013. NaBloPoMo_November_small

Around the World in 14 Years

Antique_World_Map_by_Nekarius

Let’s get one thing straight: circumnavigation isn’t easy.

Ferdinand Magellan’s expedition took 3 years to sail around the world; the man himself killed due to his own arrogance and ineptitude in the Philippines. Likewise, Francis Drake spent 3 years and 3 months trying to prove “anything a Portuguese sailing for Spain can do, an Englishman can do better,” failing only because of his secret mission to find the Atlantis of the Sands in the Rub’ al Khali for Queen Elizabeth the First. Wait. Strike that. Naughty Dog’s Uncharted series is about as accurate as Wikipedia, albeit far more interesting. What is certain is that these men faced challenges like no other: uncertain winds, brutal climates, and native peoples. Add to these the “normal” threats of mutiny, debilitating disease, and the very real possibility of starvation, and going once around the world was no picnic by half.

Modern circumnavigators have it no easier.

In 2002, Steve Fossett became the first person to fly around the world alone, nonstop, in any kind of aircraft; his vehicle of choice was the 10-story high balloon Spirit of Freedom. From takeoff to landing, this journey took him 14 days 19 hours 50 minutes over a course of 20,626.48 miles (33,195.10 km). Of his entire aircraft, only the capsule survived the landing; it was later given the the Smithsonian in Washington, DC. In addition to the circumnavigation record, the voyage also set a number of ballooning records: Fastest (200 miles per hour), Fastest Around the World (13.5 days), Longest Distance Flown Solo in a Balloon (20,482.26 miles), and 24-Hour Balloon Distance (3,186.80 miles).

And then there’s Jason Lewis, who traversed the world under human power. Lewis and his companion Stevie Smith mountain-biked through France, Spain and Portugal; peddled a paddle-boat across the Atlantic to Miami; roller-bladed across much of North America; and then peddled the paddle-boat from San Fransisco to Hilo, Hawaii, where Smith ended his journey. Lewis then hiked across Hawaii; paddle-boated from Hawaii to Tarawa atoll and then – along with the boat’s builder – on to the Solomon Islands. There he was joined by April Abril, who helped him cross the Coral Sea to Australia. Lewis then cycled across Australia and had to spend some time raising funds to continue his journey. Once again, Lewis took to his paddle-boat, paddling from Darwin, Australia to East Timor; there he traded his paddle-boat for a kayak, with which he traversed the Indonesian archipelago.  Landing in Singapore, he biked from Singapore to the Himalayas, where he hiked and biked to the Indian port of Mumbai. There, he was reunited with his paddle-boat and crossed the Arabian Sea to Djibouti. He faced legal problems in Africa and was forced to complete his journeys there mainly by night. Lewis finally reached Syria, where he completed the remainder of his circumnavigation by bicycle.  Most notable in an expedition beset by hazards of all types, Lewis survived two bouts of malaria, septicemia, mild schizophrenia, and a crocodile attack. The entire expedition took roughly 13 years.

Now, I haven’t come close to the accomplishments of any of these men in any respect but one: I’ve gone the distance. Using the accepted distance of 24,091.5 miles as the distance around the world at the equator, I completed my 14 year journey at 4:15 PM EST on October 10, 2013.

I began running back in the seventh grade because I didn’t make the basketball team. Although I eventually succeeded, by that time running had become my passion. There’s something soothing about the rhythm and pace of placing one foot after another for miles on end. I memorized poetry, songs, and learned to be alone with my own thoughts. In that regard, my failure to make the basketball team is also responsible for this blog.

So, what did this circumnavigation cost me? By my count, I used at least 14 pairs of shoes, 60 pairs of socks, 5 rolls of duct tape, 20 large boxes of band-aids, hundreds of Cliff energy gels, and copious amounts of water. But at least I didn’t suffer from scurvy.

CLICK HERE FOR VIDEO OF MY COMPLETION

You know you are an Ultra Runner when… ?

Many of these can apply to marathons as well. Therefore, I can relate to most of the list. Can you?

talkultra's avatarIAN CORLESS

I asked the question on Facebook and I got an incredible response. In actual fact, the answers keep coming in, so, I will try to add and update on a regular basis.

But here goes… ‘You know you are an Ultra Runner when… ?’

Look at some of the names who have posted too. A few Talk Ultra interviewees crop up.

iancorless.comP1020714

Holly Rush you consider running to your friend’s house for lunch and she lives 30 miles away…

Carl Wibberley A marathon is a training run.

Ben Wittenberg You sell your road bike to buy a Fenix gps.

Wayne Sylvester 26.2 sounds like an aid station.

George Knights you can count your toenails on one hand.

Chris Beaven You’re diagnosed with atrial fibrillation…

Ceri Careful Roberts When you’ve vomited all…

View original post 905 more words

The Why and The Wherefore: My Running Experience

IMG_0432June 5 was National Running Day. This post was intended to be published then, but for some reason it sat in the draft folder untouched and unnoticed as June 5 came and went. But, as they say, better late than never.

I suppose it all began in the 9th grade, the first year we boys were eligible for the varsity basketball team. Now, I’d been “playing” basketball since the fourth grade, but I use the term very loosely. I wasn’t very good at any aspect of the game, I was really just an extra body needed to give the real players a breather once in a while. Anyway, tryouts came, and in the end, it came down to me and my best friend. I lost. At first, I figured he was chosen since his dad worked at the school where we held practices and games. However, Coach took me aside and explained that it had come down to one deciding factor: stamina. I simply couldn’t keep up with the other players. I vowed that day to show them all what I could do.

For the next year, I tried to run at least a mile every day: in the sun, in the rain, in the snow – it didn’t matter. Somewhere in that year, my goal of making the basketball team took second place to the joy I found in running. For the first time I experience the runner’s high. I learned to love the wind in my face and the steady rhythm of my feet hitting the ground. I found comfort in my own thoughts. And when tryouts were held the next year, I could outlast them all; by my senior year, I had turned into a punishment: “You can stop running when Jay does!”

I continued to run in college; taking advantage of “proper” athletic tracks to relieve academic stress and brain fatigue. It was during my freshman year that I participated in my first organized race: the Turkey Run, an annual event held the Saturday before Thanksgiving. My first official time: 31.16. My best time would be during my senior year: 20:15. I began running longer distances, too. I’d run between 8 and 10 miles every other day and about 13 on weekends. I didn’t realize it, but I was already training myself for a half-marathon.

And then, real life got in the way. I graduated and landed a second-shift job in Quality Assurance at Moen. I began remodeling a house – a real fixer upper that had been left empty for at least 15 years. I just didn’t have time to run. No, let me be honest, I didn’t make the time to run.

8 months after graduating college, I got married; two weeks later I lost my job. I was despondent: no-one was hiring someone of my age with my limited experience. For whatever reason, my unemployment never came through. In short, I was depressed; the last thing I wanted to do was run again. After three months, I found some summer work with a general contractor. That fall, I was hired by a local school to teach social studies. Again, I just didn’t make time to run.

December 17, 2010 changed everything. It was the first day of Christmas Vacation, and I was driving across town to pick my wife up from work. An idiot distracted by his cell phone blew a red light and t-boned me in the driver’s side door with his Yukon Denali XL. I was driving a Pontiac Grand Am. Although the EMT’s first words to me were “Why aren’t you dead?” I escaped with relatively minor injuries. Nevertheless, I became extremely depressed. After several months of this, my wife was fed up with it and suggested I do something I enjoyed: get back into running.

So I did. I signed up for a marathon, and 11 months to the day of my accident I finished my first official 26.2 miles at the North Carolina Marathon (High Point, NC) in 06.13.27. I was hooked. Several months later I ran the Cherry Point Half Marathon in 2:05:19. Let me tell you, it felt good to pass a quite a few Marines in the last 2 miles, some of whom were drill sergeants. Last fall I ran the Freedom’s Run Marathon in Shepherdstown, WV in 05:29:38. In my opinion, every marathoner should try to complete this run. It’s an absolutely beautiful course with history everywhere. On November 10, I’ll be running my 3rd marathon: the Outer Banks Marathon in coastal North Carolina. My goal is to finish in 04:30:00 or less, but any time under 05:00:00 will do.

To be honest, my training has been slack. As the heat of summer approaches here in Eastern NC, it’s important to avoid heat exhaustion. Right now I can do around 10 miles no problem and push through to 15, but I really want to keep a 10 minute mile pace (or better) for the duration.

Some people don’t understand why I run. They don’t see the point in running long distances. All that effort – for what? There really isn’t a personal, tangible benefit to running a marathon. I’ll finish hours after the winner and most spectators will be gone; even the volunteers will most likely be winding down. It could be to benefit organizations such as Big Brother/Big Sister, the Wounded Warrior Project, or the Civil War Preservation Trust. However, I don’t put in long hours on the trail thinking about “the cause”. Neither do I run purely for my health: I’m strengthening my heart and lungs at the cost of my knees.

So why do I run? I run to relieve stress. I run to be alone with my thoughts. I run to once again enjoy the wind in my face and the rhythm of my feet as they hit the ground. I run for the same reason others have sailed oceans, climbed mountains, crossed deserts, and ascended into space: I run because the road is there.

Website Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑