Messages from the Pale Blue Dot

1961 and the influence of the two "Jacks" - Kennedy and LaLanne

What are the moments or streams of influence that shape us in later life? Can you look back and identify specific events, speeches, people, books, TV shows, etc. that planted seeds that later grew into the parts of your personality? I have early memories of key moments in particular, like John Kennedy's inaugural address in January 1961, when I was eight years old and just trying to make sense of the world. That speech had three parts that got me thinking about ideas, institutions and each individual's responsibilities.

The speech can be viewed on YouTube in two parts, available below, or in written format (much faster to read through.)

First of all, he spoke about a "call to service," which he punctuated with his famous quote, "And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you - ask what you can do for your country." This call to join in a historic effort to fight the common enemies of man got me thinking, not just then but many times throughout the years about the choice of whether to commit one's efforts to private profit or community service. Although I would never have put it in those terms at the time, the idea of doing for others rather than oneself was a seed that grew, informing my decisions of which path to take. For many decades, I've chosen not to opt for private profit over the more meaningful, albeit less financially rewarding, career of public work.

Secondly, this speech piqued my interest in that "last best hope in an age where the instruments of war have far outpaced the instruments of peace," the United Nations. At eight, I knew nothing about the UN but if our new President called it the "last best hope" it must have an important role.

And finally, the speech broadened my vision of my country and its role in the world. I'd never before quite thought about anything much beyond Berkeley, California and this speech expanded my horizons. Although Kennedy's rhetoric was colored by his period, as a president taking office at the height of the Cold War and Soviet expansion into the Western Hemisphere, his vision was about more than protecting our sphere of influence, but projecting freedom. A lot of concept for an eight-year old, but it did get me thinking!

However, it was not just one Jack who was coming at me every day on TV. Jack Kennedy may have been the president, but it was Jack LaLanne, the fitness guru, who spoke to me everyday about the value of exercise, good food and a healthy attitude. Now, when I look at this video clip I realize how both Jacks had it so right, forty-five years ago.

Nostalgic Recuperation

My fall in Cape Town two weeks ago apparently wasn't as minor as I had thought at the time. Although the radiologist studied the x-rays and determined that there were no broken ribs, my absolutely non-medical hunch is that either something is cracked or I did a pretty damn good job of bruising the bones. Whatever it is, it is not healing quickly and I was not doing anything to help. This week I tried working out again, going to the gym on Sunday, running in Central Park on Monday and then back to the gym on Tuesday. But, all that activity seemed to make my breathing even more painful and any twisting or lifting motion really hurt.

So, I've just finished taking four days off, hanging out in my recliner chair computer setup, working online but taking it easy and giving whatever has broken in my chest the chance to get better. And, while here, I filled some of the time by going through a box of old photos, scanning some of the better ones and posting them to my Facebook page Photos from Decades Ago

From those photos, there are a few that merit some comment, particularly as this blog has become more and more athletics oriented recently.

In 1977, after a six-year break after high school during which I was doing stand-up comedy and nightclub performing, I started running again. I'd run in high school, but poor coaching and lousy shoes in 1969 had left me with bad shin splints and an association between running and unenlightened authoritarianism. But the years of late nights, bar food and alcohol had taken their tool. One night a young woman asked me how old I was. "Twenty-five," I said.

"Oh, too young for a pot belly."

That did it. Within weeks I had a membership at the Aerobics Center in North Dallas, run by the reluctant guru of aerobic sports, Ken Cooper. I started going out to Dallas White Rock lake each morning, to run the 9.2 mile loop with a group of guys called the 7:11 Group. Many of these guys were airplane pilots, but there was also a character named Irving Adelstein, a local jewelry store owner, who grew to be one of my personal idols and was an excellent mentor and father-figure. Between 1977 and 1984, I'd either run around the lake in the morning or meet up with a group of hard-core marathoners called the "Kamikazes" who met at 5:00 am each morning at the Cooper Center to run intervals and hill sprints.

My first marathon, in San Francisco in June 1979, was a respectable 3:14. My second, a few months later in Denton, Texas was below three hours. However, in order to qualify for the Boston Marathon in 1980, I needed to run at least a 2:50 time. So, at the Dallas White Rock Marathon, the first week of December 1979, I finished the 42 km in 2:48, just a tad under four minutes per kilometer. The photo above was taken that day, at 67 kilos and twenty-six years old. Now ten kilos and twenty-eight years later, I wonder if I will ever be in that great a shape again. It is certainly something to work towards!

There is the old saying that you can tell a tell an athlete by asking him or her, "How is your injury?" If they reply, "Which one?" then you know they are in training. These last nine months, between the torn cartilage, gout in late August/early September, the recovery from knee surgery and now two weeks healing my busted ribs, if it isn't one thing, it has been something else keeping me from getting out there and training on a consistent basis. Hopefully, I've had my quota of mishaps and can get on with the business of preparing for the upcoming season.

The good news yesterday was:

     Entry number: 248404
     NYRR member number: 05247

     Dear Langston J Goree,
     We have received your guaranteed entry to the 2008 ING New York City Marathon.

After being rejected in the marathon lottery in 2005, 2006 and 2007, I'm guaranteed an entry this year. (However, it still irks me that while a member of the New York Road Runners Club and a taxpayer in the city that hosts the event, I can't more easily get into the marathon in my own home town, run by my own club.) So, my big goal for the year will be to qualify for the Boston marathon in 2009 by running better than 3:45 in November and, if possible, run New York better than 3:30 so that I don't have to enter the lottery in 2009! So, twenty-six years later, is it possible to run just forty-two minutes slower than my best? We'll see.

This week there was a very interesting RadioLab show on WNYC about "Deception." One of the segments, called "Lying to Ourselves" points to research that shows that athletes who are self-deceptive tend to be more successful. Maybe, to really do well in sports or life, we have to tell ourselves that things are possible that really just aren't, in order to achieve them. It probably worked for me in 1979 and may work again. So, here goes, "I can qualify for Boston again in November!" There are lies, damned lies, and personal challenges.

Cape Argus Cycle Tour - South Africa

The Cape Argus Pick n' Pay Cycle Tour is the largest timed bicycle race in the world. Drawing more than 39,500 riders from around the world in a race that has waves of timed start groups beginning at 6:00 am.

I stumbled off of an all-night flight from London Heathrow at about 10:00 am on Saturday, the day before the race, located my bicycle and duffle bag and grabbed a taxi to the Westin Grande Hotel, only blocks from the exposition and starting area. After putting my bike together, I went over to the registration area to pick up my number, race chip and some packets of drink powder for pre-race hydration and for my bottles during the ride.

Richard Sherman, who runs our African Regional Project and lives in Cape Town and I went for dinner and beers at Relish, a great neighborhood bar/restaurant near his home in the trendy area of town called Bo Kaap. Honestly, now that I look back on the weekend, I probably should have arrived a day earlier so that I could have rested before the ride. Three all-night intercontinental plane flights over ten days, too many time changes, strange food and drink and then heading out to hammer on a bicycle at physical red-line for three and a half hours up and down the hills around Cape Town, I'm not sure exactly what I was thinking. No wonder I fell apart on Sunday night after the race.

The race day was magnificent! Blue skies, no wind, and temperatures that ranged a bit on the high end, particularly on the back-side of the course away from the ocean (24-29 degrees.) The course went south-east, climbing out of Cape Town, before going fast and flat along the coast. The second half of the ride is almost all hills, never anything more than 183 meters high, but there is enough up and down so that the entire ride is about 1938 meters of climbing.

   

For much of the ride, there were a group of us who started together in the "Z" group of international riders, riding in a fast pace line. The "Z" train would hammer along at 35-40 kmph on the flat, forming up, reforming, and passing thousands of riders. Our group, an un-seeded group, started after the slowest of the seeded riders and there were some fast international guys. I rode with a German, a Dane and a South African living in Virginia. I lost touch with them on the last climbs, since I felt strong toward the end, climbing like a wild man, passing riders like they were standing still. The early season work in Thailand and Monaco had paid off!

So, final numbers for the day.. 108.2 km in 3:33, average speed 30.6 kph, average heart rate 153, with 45 minutes of the race at 92% of maximum heart-rate or better. I was redlined for the entire race. No backing off, no taking it easy. A great effort.

However, my post-race strategy was not so smart! Rather than get a good meal and some sleep, I headed for the bar in the hotel and rehydrated with beer and ate a nice, but not particularly filling meal with more beers. I was totally wiped out and crashed at about 4:30 pm and slept until 10:00 am the next morning. The only thing I remember was waking up to chat with Pam on the Internet and then slipping in the bathroom around midnight, falling on the edge of the bathtub. I think I was just so run down, left it all on the road on Sunday and then did all the wrong things after the race. The result, I spent Monday in bed nursing a bad bone bruise on my ribs. Arrggh.

Now, on Tuesday, the hotel doctor paid a house-call this morning and set up a series of x-rays for me at the Christian Barnard Hospital in town since he suspected that I had fractured my rib. The xrays came back negative, but the doctor said that a bone bruise can be as painful and take as long to heal as a broken rib. But at least I now know that I didn't break anything and I'm hoping that the recovery time will be short and I can get back to training soon. But, I'm going to look at my travel and training schedule over the next few months and cut back a bit on one or the other. Obviously the intercontinental training and racing schedule is a young man's game and is one more begrudgingly acknowledgement that I'm not twenty-seven anymore, but twice that age.

Winter Cycling in Northern Europe

Somehow the plan worked perfectly! After riding in Monaco two weeks ago, I got in a good ride in Frankfurt before flying back to New York, where it was too cold to ride ... So, I left my bike at the Frankfurt Sheraton and returned there mid-week for a nice ride on Wednesday, as the snow was falling. There was not too much to stick or make it dangerous, but it was a wintry ride.

Then, two days later, I rose at dawn and rode easy in Copenhagen, up north along the ocean towards Helsinor.

Denmark is one of the all time best place to cycle, since everyone is out on bikes, there are bike paths and bike highways and all the drivers very considerate of cyclists. This is one of the places where being blond, blue-eyed and riding a bicycle makes you just one of the masses, not some object of international curiosity.