The Eccentricities of Hobbies – Things about Which One Can Find Themselves Jazzed

You’ll have to forgive me; this blog isn’t about politics or some hilarity from my youth. No, it’s a subject I was thinking about recording as I walked one-half mile back to my house after my run last night.

My run last night was fantastic. For some background, while I am an assistant coach with a running group here in Boise, Boise Run/Walk, I’ve taken it upon myself to engage a personal coach to improve my marathon time. My coach is the head coach of the running club I run and coach with.

Thus far, engaging a personal coach has worked for me on a few levels. One, I’ve found myself resolved to work harder at my runs. I am not necessarily running harder, but I am even more mindful of certain things I would normally take for granted. As an example, this last Saturday, during my eleven miler, I made a real point of taking hydration and nutrition during my run and not skipping them, like I so often do. Of course, another component was that I spoke at my group about ensuring one is properly taking in energy and water whilst running; nevertheless, I’ve said those things before, and not practiced what I preached. With a coach and a personal program, that’s right, I’ve found myself actually doing what I know I am supposed to do.

Wow, Matt, that’s great. I know. I know, here I am prefacing the point on which I was going to write. Well, what I just wrote was more or less the point; however, what has me so motivated was the run I took last night. Mike, my coach, on Wednesdays, has my program set up for “speed work.”

For you non-runners out there, “speed work” integrates some different sorts of training into one’s run. There are different types: interval training, hill repeats, striding, tempo running, Yasso 800’s, etc… Long and short, there are lots of ways to practice speed work, and there are lots of good reasons to do it. Rather than bore you with the sports physiology, we’ll say I am motivated to do this, both to improve my marathon time and to shake up what is normally a nice gentle Wednesday-night eight-mile run.

Last night, I ran 4.16 miles from my house to a street just east of Warm Springs golf course in Boise. There, I crossed the street at the ped-way, and came to the hill at Wind Song St. Wind Song is a beautiful steep hill, with a sidewalk, leading up to nice affluent homes. It’s rather rural, but it’s not in the middle of nowhere. I believe technically it is still in Boise-proper.

There at Wind Song, I did 8 x :30’s. Essentially, after running 4.16 miles, I stretched a bit, and ran 8 trips up this hill, turning around to return to the bottom. When I got to the bottom, I’d prepare my Garmin again, and take off up the hill. That took me between five and ten minutes. I don’t recall exactly (when doing hill repeats, one isn’t turning around to run them the second they get to the bottom).

Anyway, after I completed those hill repeats, I took off back to my house. My head felt great, and my run started quite strong. At that point, I think my body was accustomed to the challenge of running up hill. Needless to say, I ran back to my house, and cut it short at eight miles, which left me about .8 miles to walk back to my house. The walk was quite refreshing, and I did so with a great amount of self-satisfaction.

It’s quite amazing, this human experience, pushing myself to do something I would have considered “conditioning” as a teenager. Now, I dig on the fact that I am going to be a better runner, and that I was motivated to do that on my own. Coach Mike left me a voice mail while I was in a meeting earlier, and wondered how it was going. I think I’ll send him this link.

A Relaxed Sunday and a Weekend of Movies

Typically, this time of year, following early church service on Sunday, I like to head up to Bogus to get in some skiing. Yesterday, however, I heard that it was busy, and I was a bit fatigued, so I decided to run errands and relax a bit. As far as the errands went, they were relaxed and rather uneventful. Following trips to “Bed, Bath and Beyond” and REI, I went over to my friends, the Bush’s, house.

Bob and Dianna were gracious hosts, as always. Dianna immediately served me ranch beans she had sitting from being made earlier in the day or weekend. They were very nice, and it was quite nice to have homemade food. Bob and Dianna had friends of their staying with them, in town from Southwest Washington and McCall, I’d refer to them by last name, but I cannot say I ever got that.

Prior to their friends coming back from running errands, two of their guests are getting married in the near term, the mother and sister of the bride were the other two guests, Diana, Bob and I watched “Pineapple Express.”

In the same way Will Ferrell, Vince Vaughn, the Wilson brothers, and Wes Anderson formed the “Frat Pack,” Seth Rogan and Judd Apatow have now dominated the humor scene. It’s a good thing, as the “Frat Pack” is not nearly as prolific as they once were.

Not having seen “Pineapple Express,” I was well entertained by the movie. I am glad I saw it. It was most fun watching it with Bob and Diana. Express wasn’t the best movie I saw all weekend though, I have to admit. Saturday night I saw “MILK.”

“Milk” was an incredible film, and I was glad to have seen it. My friends Dan and Patty asked me to join them, and I was more than happy to do so on Saturday Night. It’s hard not to go on and on about why I enjoyed the movie and thought it was so good.

To summarize my feelings on Saturday evening, I would have to put it along these lines: not being gay, the movie being shot by a gay director, Gus Van Sant, gave me a better feel for the characters’ struggles, thoughts and feelings. I know that sounds rather surface, but genuinely, in the same way few if any but African American directors could really convey the rage and pain of racism, I had more empathy for what these folks endured/still endure. Two, Penn’s performance was magnificent. I realize that’s like saying, “Hendrix played a mean guitar,” but his performance showed his range and really made me feel for the character. I don’t want to spoil the ending, but just prior the credits, my feelings for Penn’s performance really crystallized. Three, I thought the movie was so apropos, primarily due to this past year’s Proposition 8. After seeing “MILK,” I look forward to supporting future GLBT rights initiatives.

It’s interesting, being straight, but having so many friends that fall into the categories in the movie, I don’t know that I’ve ever been confronted with the turmoil or issues that friends of mine have had to face. I guess that is part of the struggle GLBT folks are subjected to, primarily, because the social construction is that they should be undercover about their preferences. Whatever the case, I have to expect that if I was in their shoes, I would be quite radical. I don’t think anyone knowing what GLBT folks are subjected to would choose to deviate from society’s norms; nevertheless, there are ignorant people that still think people “choose” their sexuality. I am still looking for someone opposed to Gay marriage, to tell me where in the Bible it says being gay is bad. Please, if you can find the chapter and verse, let me know. While it doesn’t apply to me, I would just assume those that have those feelings be afforded the same rights I have.

Delinquencies

I’ve been out for almost a couple of weeks, and I had meant to write a review of my trip back to the Quad Cities. It was a delightful time, and one with a good number of interesting observations—not coming from Chicago but from Boise.

What was most important, arriving home in Moline/Fyre Lake was seeing my beloved family, including my sister, and then seeing my friends. I had a good number of runs on seem neat routes, which made the runs at home neat. The two eight-milers I ran were different: one went from 24th Ave, down to the Mississippi, off to East Moline, and then back. The other run went around Fyre Lake, back up to the Corner Mart, and then back to my folks’ house. They were fun runs.

Of course, what was also quite delightful was returning back to Boise, where I’ve bought and moved into a house. I bought the house back in October—closed on the 30th. Then, I took possession on the 31st. I moved in over subsequent weeks, and I couldn’t be more pleased with the house.

You’ll have to forgive the organization or cleanliness, as the pictures were taken following my return from a week of vacation. It’s not that I live messily, but that I still have not had a chance to finish unpacking. In addition, I had not unpacked from being away for the week of Thanksgiving.

Here are pictures:

That’s where I am, and I look forward to having visitors to Boise. It will be too much fun to have friends and loved ones come to Boise to visit.





http://picasaweb.google.com/matthewcurtisjohnson/MattSHouse113008#

Without the Presidential Campaign, It’s Tough to Write

My friend Martha today was curious as to why I hadn’t posted anything as of late. It’s interesting why I haven’t. I had to think about it a bit. Realizing that I’ve not had anything viciously political on which to write, I’ve been left with little to write.
Is that the case? Am I not doing anything? Of course not; truthfully, I’ve been quite busy being a new homeowner, and with a vacation back to Illinois starting Friday afternoon, I’ve not had a lot of interesting stuff to write.

In short, while I would be self-conscious about writing about just me, writing about the minutia of what I am right now doing is just not that interesting.

However, I can write about the following: Here in Boise, I have a dear friend, Betty. Betty is noteworthy because of what a great friend she is. Betty and I met at our church about a year ago. Betty is also known as “GiGi” to her great-grandkids. Betty knows me well, and a few Sundays ago, asked me what had me fidgety. I explained that I was in the process of moving, was going to try to meet up with a friend for coffee, and I had to clean a bunch at my old place.
From there, Betty insisted on helping me move my kitchen supplies. What a dear friend! Betty came over to my place, and was an absolute help! For Betty to just come over and keep me company; that would have been enough, but she packed so much of my flatware, silverware and dishes! Because I had bought brunch a few Sundays before hand, Betty insisted that Sunday of doing the same! I know. I know. I was having the hardest time accepting, and not stealing the check; however, I know better than to mess with my friend Betty. Betty is not to be messed with, so I relented!

This past Sunday, without having any signs of being fidgety, again, Betty insisted on helping me clean. I already had the majority of my cleaning done, and just a little bit to move out. Nevertheless, Betty came by and helped! As I am leaving a few days from today, I wanted to see Betty prior to leaving for Thanksgiving, so I could take her something nice.

Last week, after the first Sunday, I took Betty some potted begonias; provided that, I was going to bring her something else. As I went over to Betty’s to say “goodbye” prior Thanksgiving, I dropped by my PO Box. There I was, at the post office, and I saw in my PO Box an envelop with Betty’s return address. There I was, about to take this dear friend a gift for helping me more than she already had, and I was receiving such a lovely card.

From there, I went over to Betty’s, and she had made a nice dinner for us. I seldom, if ever, eat prior my evening runs. In this case, I was more than happy to dine with this dear friend, and the gesture itself was ever so generous and wonderful. Betty is truly a great and dear friend, and I am fortunate to have her as a friend.

It’s such a wonderful thing, friendship. I was concluding a conference call I organized with some engineering students at the University of Illinois yesterday and Village Hope, the charity with which I am working to put irrigation in Sierra Leone, and I noted that what we were doing was far from being zero-sum. That’s the amazing component with great friends and family, all wonderful people; it is quite far from zero-sum. Great family and friends are instances of “win-win” – truly great things.

Out of Pocket

Hey Readers, I hope you are doing well. Apologies for the delay in posting, I have been in the process of moving to my new home. I was reticent to write about the process of moving into a home I bought—what, without pictures, but it’s what I’ve been up to. Please know that the pictures are forthcoming. I have not yet had a chance to take too many pictures, largely because I am in the process of settling in.

Alas, were it not for our families, most specifically our Mothers or Sisters, and imminent visits—you’ll note I am speaking from a bachelor’s perspective, we would not settle in to things as quickly as we should. What’s amazing about home ownership, as most of you know, is that it takes us back to the Problem of Universals.

In short, there is an idea of how one’s home should be, but that idea of a home in stateful perfection, while conceivable, is something that can never quite be obtained. I suppose that could fall back to one of the first rules of economics, which is to say, “Human wants are insatiable.” Of course, the second rule to accompany that is “resources are limited or finite.”

Right now, I couldn’t be happier with my home, and I don’t have too much in the way of projects. I have a few minor projects, like correcting a tree’s growth, from slightly meandering to perfectly vertical, and doing some caulking in a few little spots prior to winter. None of these things are terribly intimidating, nor am I too hurried in dealing with them. Of course, the counterbalance to completing these two minor tasks is cleaning up my old apartment, and completing the last of my move.

My move is done, with the exception of the cards and drawings hung on my refrigerator—those things and my cleaning supplies at my old place. Other than that, moving those remaining items and cleaning up after a year’s worth of living, then I’ll be free and clear. Of course, then I’ll start on the aforementioned projects, and whatever other little ones I have outside. At the same time, I have pictures, which still need to be hung or framed, and I have friends for whom to cook. Indeed, I am little homeowner/homemaker Matty, and I am having a ball.

If this is the first you are hearing about my move to buy a house and move into it. It’s been to long since we’ve spoken or corresponded. I am sorry for that. Sometimes I feel quite disconnected from many friends back in the Midwest or elsewhere. I do have guest bedrooms, so please plan a visit to Boise. I look forward to seeing you sometime soon.

I hope you are all doing well.

Remiss and Good People

As of late, I’ve been feeling remiss about not writing more than I have. I don’t know that I can articulate very well my feelings of neglect on posting to my blog, but I suppose I’ll take a stab.

If you read this very often, you know that I just joined facebook this last weekend. In doing so, I’ve been rewarded with a compliment on this blog by my dear friend Wendy. Wendy is a wonderful and quite down-to-earth woman, for those of you that do not know her. Receiving a compliment on my postings was both flattering, and for me, it highlighted that it has been a bit since I last posted. On that note, I should dedicate this blog to my dear friend Wendy. To further that, I should note, Wendy, Idaho is full of people from Wisconsin.

The bar near where I currently live, it flies a Packer flag on Sundays. In addition, there is a great young family at my church, both the mother and father are officers in the Air Force, and are around our age. Anyway, they have two children, one of whom is a little girl between three-and-four. The little lady came to church a few weeks ago in a dress modeled after a Green Bay Packers’ Cheerleader’s outfit. It was undoubtedly precious. The father is serving off in the Middle East, which must be so challenging to care for the two kids with her husband being far off; nevertheless, like a good Wisconsin woman, the mother brings those two kids to church every Sunday.

In addition to that, another means of motivation for writing today was the pleasure that I had in running with my friend Jenny Stinson last night. You can see Jenny’s blog up, just to the right of this posting “Runny4yourlife.” Jenny and I ran the trails by where I live, which are a lot of fun, but they are continuously challenging. I admitted to Jenny last night, the trail I run for my Wednesday 8-miler, “Lower Hull’s Gulch,” has two-and-a-half miles of substantial uphill. That uphill is marked with rocks, and it definitely builds up one’s soleus muscles, ankles, and gastrocnemius. In any event, it’s a great run, which always reminds me that no matter how much I run, or how strong I am, challenges are always out there, and I can always improve my running.

I guess that’s the sort-of-meta thing I think about running, right? It’s a sport in which progress is so immediately quantifiable. I suppose one could say the same thing about swimming, cycling or golf, but the act of running is something so minimalist, it is ultimately reduced to two areas: physicality and mentality. The simplicity and determination of the sport are two things I absolutely adore about it.

I digress. Running with my friend Jenny was a terrific Wednesday-night run, and Jenny, right now, is training for a 50k. A 50K is thirty miles, which is four more than a marathon—err, 3.8. Anyway, it’s a 50k trail run, which is why Jenny thought of being a rare improvement on the enjoyment of my Wednesday night run. Beyond that, Jenny flattered me by noting things I had said in my blog.

It’s tough to express just how flattering it is to speak with a friend about something random, like having met a lovely woman in a coffee shop, by the coffee shop’s specific name, and for the friend to ask a question citing a past blog post. In this case, Jenny was spot on, which was quite flattering. My friend Jenny, a fellow Chicago transplant, is a dear friend of mine to have here in Boise. Not only are Jenny’s daughter, son-in-law and Grandson Marshall terrific people, but she has lovely friends, current Chicagoland residents, with whom I had the pleasure of dining before the City of Trees Marathon, and her beautiful golden Fremont. In short, Jenny keeps great company, has a wonderful family, and a great puppy dog.

Lastly, I should conclude with what a pleasure it is to have my friend Ben in town this week. Ben was in Eastern Idaho with other friends for the end of last week and beginning of this week; they were there hunting elk. Ben is here in my place until Sunday, about which I couldn’t be happier. In coming days, I’ll probably post something, which will further indicate why it is all the more fun and important to have a dear friend in town.

I guess on that note, I should be off to take care of some things for the remainder of the working week. In any event, I wanted to ensure I put up a good post, and noted some of the most immediate joys around this week.

Facebook and Detachment

I love writing for my blog, if for no other reason than expressing that which I’ve felt over a given period. One cannot deny the experience is not quite like a journal, which I’ve never been as good at keeping as corresponding with friends. As I am writing that, I am thinking of what had me write the above title. At the prompting of several friends over the past year, I’ve finally joined Facebook. Having done so, I am experiencing this incredible sensation predicated on my geographic and lifestyle changes.

Before I write further, I should preface this by saying I’m not regretting my move, nor am I regretting my aforesaid lifestyle changes. Of course, if you don’t know me well, the move was from Chicago to Boise, Idaho. From the lifestyle change perspective, we are speaking of my having traded working hard/playing hard for working well/living well, including doing a lot of running, all of that post-trauma.

Back to my point, joining Facebook has provided me a reconnection to many with whom I’ve not kept in touch. In so doing, I am realizing just how dynamic my friends’ lives have been. Being a human, like many of us, I tend to be rather self-centered. With that self-investment, it’s too easy to lost track of time and years gone by.

A few examples, browsing the page of one lady I knew, back at Illinois, I saw pictures of a friend of mine who went to Iowa. My friend, I’ve known him for twenty-plus years, and the girl, I knew as a younger classmate who worked at a sister bar to the one at which I bartended. Seeing the two of them in pictures, I asked my friend Paul if they were or had been dating. It turns out they have been dating for approximately four months. That’s a rather small example, but the point is that the little city of Chicago I left behind didn’t keep people from intermingling and meeting one another.

Of course, steps taken even further have been to see another woman, whom I one knew well, now married, looking as lovely as ever. In short, I always had a crush on this woman, and to see that she is now married, it leaves one thinking of years past. Of course, the last time I saw her was at Oasis playing UIC Pavilion back in 2005, when I had a girlfriend with whom I was enamored. The point is to say though that seeing these progressions leaves me feeling a bit intimidated about how fast life moves not just for me individually, but for everyone else. It’s the feeling that one doesn’t disagree with, hearing someone speak about it. Rather, it is all too easy right now to say, “No kidding, Sherlock? Everyone’s lives change? Surprise!”

With all of that said, however, it does not keep one from noticing it more vibrantly with this new medium through which it comes. It’s rather surreal, to say the least. It makes one miss those who are back in places of yore, be it Sherrard, Champaign, Memphis, or Chicago. Nevertheless, I do love having moved to Boise, the natural wonders are too nice to refuse.

Owyhee Lake - close to Boise

PS - I don't think I can / I am making it a rule to not access Facebook at work. If you send me a friend connection, and I don't confirm straight away, it's because of that. It will be later in the day.

Everybody’s Gotta Make a Living – Vanity Redux and Old Folks

Are we a culture obsessed with Vanity and Desperation?
You’ve probably seen me write about SPAM before, and read my thoughts about “Truth to Market.” To sum it up, we see spam about erectile dysfunction, male organ size, pharmaceuticals and clothing all the time. Spammers have one clear objective, of course, which is to make money. As such, they spam on the aforementioned topics with the hope that will grab as many desperate folks as possible. By the same token, the one liners, as here demonstrated, are overly pervasive on the Internet. It’s as though late night/early morning ad buyers have found they can penetrate a broader demographic via the Internet than through their former medium.

What does this say about our culture? Again, I think I am only stating something at which we all nod our heads, but it’s probably one of the greater flaws of our culture. By that I mean the guise of “having it all.” We are a nation that has waged a war, at the same time telling people to “spend, spend and spend,” does our Government sell the same delusions? Clearly, in the process both the citizens and the Government of the United States have run up a bundle of credit card debt.

My point is simply that we have cultural issues that we need to repair from our grassroots. It’s evident by what is marketed to us. I could probably spend more time writing on this, but for now, work is more of a priority.

Working on a Saturday, and all the Thoughts that Come into One’s Head

It’s funny, I don’t know if I am into writing about thoughts as much as I am thinking about the various websites I’ve been visiting today. Right now, my Shuffle is playing “Check Your Ride,” by Tribe Called Quest, but I was last reading an article about Memphis-rocker Jay Reatard—that’s how he spells it.

Anyway, as I was reading about Jay Reatard’s latest album on Pitchfork, I was thinking to myself, third-person, “Wow, what is Matt doing right now, but sitting for his twelfth hour on a Saturday, at his work desk.” Of course, admittedly, I did run seven miles from about 7:30 to 8:35, plus the time back at my place to shower and change. That involved leaving work where I was earlier and coming back. That’s my Saturday, and of course, because I had to open a conference bridge and run this morning, I went to bed wicked early last night.

Apologies, I’m not trying to whine. My point in writing that is to note, I’ve had a lot of time to think. Of course, seemingly, I always have time to think. I live alone, run alone, and do most everything else alone. For some reason, however, being at the office alone has provided ample time with fewer distractions to update myself on media.

Of course, if you read this blog ever – bless your heart, you probably know that I spent the bulk of my time reading http://www.economist.com/, http://www.cnn.com/, http://www.pitchforkmedia.com/, http://www.espn.com/, http://www.slate.com/ or http://www.salon.com/. Yeah, politics, tunes, or sports, I am an action-packed man—a man of action.

As an aside, I thought of something as I wrote that. Thursday night, I went running in the dark, which meant I didn’t run the trails, instead I ran Hill Road, here in Boise. Hill is a great road, with a nice long sidewalk and a great amount of bike trails on it, both of which make it a safe and easy run, particularly in the dark.

I took Hill from Harrison Boulevard to 28th Street. I loved running down 28th Street! What was quite lovable about it was how running down it immediately took me back to both Memphis and Chicago. At times, it looked like running in the North part of Memphis’s Midtown. In the case of Chicago, it reminded me of my runs this last fall between Lincoln Square and Ravenswood.* Between the dark, the cool fall temperature, the age of the houses and buildings, and the era in which the street was expanded to what it is, I was reminded of these different areas.

28th St. Boise

Nostalgia is such an amazing feeling, isn’t it? Certainly, different senses initiate different components of nostalgia, but above and beyond that, once one experiences it, they then have the cognitive processing that takes place. For example, in this case, I was immediately reminded of Memphis and Chicago, but then I went into my knowledge of things and analyzed why I was so reminded of those two different places.

I guess that’s what one thinks of while they’re sitting at their office on a Saturday.


*For those of you that don’t know, Ravenswood, in a way, envelopes Lincoln Square on the East and West.

Matty’s Life…

There may be those of you wondering, “Matt, what are you going to do after this election?” I imagine most of you are probably thinking about such things. As for what I have going on, post-marathon, outside of work, etc… well, there isn’t a lot too interesting at the moment, that I am quite ready to disclose to the public. Let’s just say that I am working my way into something a little more “homey.” In the meantime, I am just working, etc…

Of course, there is something else about which I can speak… Obviously, I go to CNN.com pretty regularly, and I have a bit of an obsession with a woman in a Chevron banner ad. Hello – she’s a babe. I wonder if she lives in Boise. Yeah – that’s about what I have going on right now – dreaming about a woman helping Chevron market themselves under the guise of cleaner energy. Yeah – clearly, I have a lot going on…

The Inaugural Salmon Marathon

The below is an essay I wrote the day after the Salmon Marathon. It's not short, so consider yourself forewarned. One of my running clubs put it in their newsletter:

I arrived in Salmon for the first annual Salmon Marathon, from Boise, on a gorgeous
Friday afternoon. The drive into Salmon was especially nice, provided the beautiful
weather and the valley view of the rugged Beaverhead Range’s Sacajawea Peaks. The
day that followed would provide me with a spectacular marathon experience, blending
the beauty and folksiness of a small town marathon, with the organization, fun and
culture of a marathon substantially larger.

Salmon is a smaller town, with a population of approximately thirty-three hundred
people, nestled in East-Central Idaho, about two hours from Missoula, Montana. Being a
smaller town, Salmon presents all of the wonderful experiences one comes to expect from
a place of Salmon’s size. After a warm and enjoyable packet-pickup experience, at
around noon, I went to find a nice Chinese food restaurant, to load up on rice for those
pre-marathon carbohydrates.

As I’d arrived in Salmon with plenty of time, I decided to get directions so I could drive
and preview the marathon’s course. The nice folks running the pickup directed me to
Tendoy, Idaho, which was where the start was located. Their instructions were quite
simple, “Follow Main out of town, it becomes “twenty-eight,” you will come to Tendoy,
from there, turn left. On your right is the school house; that is where the start of the race
is.”

As I drove up Highway 28 to the small town of Tendoy, every car or truck coming from
the opposite direction introduced to me something I’d not seen since my younger years,
growing up in Sherrard, Illinois, “the farmer wave.” If you’re not familiar, a “farmer
wave” is the ubiquitous response exhibited by passing folks in rural settings throughout
this country. It can be as simple as popping the index finger up from the steering wheel
of one’s truck. What was most delightful was being caught by it off guard, and then
striving to preemptively catch passersby before they could beat me to the punch. Perhaps
it was right there I began to feel enjoyable nature of what the Salmon Marathon would
come to offer. Of course, packet pickup was well organized and friendly, but it hadn’t
yet hit me that I was going to run the marathon in such a special place filled with warm
and friendly folks.

After I returned to Salmon, I went to my hotel room at the Stagecoach Inn, which was
strategically located across from the bus pickup and race’s finish line. I sat in my room
for several hours catching up on phone calls and trying to stay off my feet. Laying out
my race wear and pinning my number to my shirt. From there, I left for St. Charles
Catholic Church in Salmon, which was where the race-sponsored pre-race pasta dinner
was to take place.

As one can certainly imagine, the dinner was full of jovial folks, all of whom were
excited about the marathon and its smaller town setting. I met folks at the dinner from
Upstate New York, Utah and San Mateo, California. Like marathoners in every pre-race
dinner, there was a fun exchange of marathon stories from around the States and other
parts of world. It’s challenging to adequately express the fun and rustic nature of dining
in the place where Salmon’s Knights of Columbus meet, provided that church halls or
basements are too often the locations for such things. Of course, from a marathonperspective,
too often there are more than 10,000 racers, which logistically conflicts with
one local church or public hall opening their doors for every tier of racer to sit down and
dine together. This was again where the smaller nature of the Salmon Marathon, with its
limit of 250 racers, expressed its advantages.

Like the church hall at St. Charles Church on Friday night, Saturday morning, all of the
racers met for the busses to drive us to the start line, from the same place where the
packet pickup was located. The busses to drive us to the race start were school busses,
which provided for roughly twenty-two miles of conversation with fellow racers. Upon
arriving at the school, to our surprise, doors to the one-room Tendoy schoolhouse were
opened, and we were told to go into the school to wait for the 6:45 a.m. start. After
entering the school, the race volunteers and organizers asked us to take a metallic starsticker,
and attach to the map the location from where we came. Then, we were to write
on the posted piece of poster paper our name and city of origin. It was there, in the
comfortably warm school room, I learned that those from out of the state of Idaho
received in weeks prior letters from school children in Tendoy welcoming them to
Salmon and their school in Tendoy. Again, the wonder of the small town experience was
sweetly evident.

At around 6:40 a.m. my fellow racer Luke and I headed out to acclimate to the near perfect
start time temperature of roughly 45 degrees Fahrenheit. It was a little chilly, but
in the perfect way, the kind for which we knew we’d be thankful once the race started.
As we stood there Kathy Gatens the friendly and energetic race director gathered all of us
for the convocation to kick off the race. There a local pastor led us in a pre-marathon
prayer, and Kathy introduced us to a patient at Whitewater Therapeutic the program
which the marathon benefited. The young woman told the racers how she had benefited
from the program, which was all the more sincere and heartwarming, taking further the
wonderful and caring feel the racers had leading into the marathon. To conclude the prerace
convocation, we sang to a racer from Boise, whose birthday was the next day,
“Happy Birthday,” and then we were off to the start line.

The marathon, because of its smaller size was gun-timed, which didn’t leave any
concerns. As the gun went off, we began running, and a good portion of the racers took
off in quick order. The race was on “Old Lemhi Road” for the majority of its length.
Old Lemhi is a gravel road with reasonable amounts of gravel and dirt, likening it to a
trail run, which didn’t leave anyone, with whom I spoke, discouraged. Portable
bathrooms were located at approximately every other mile, which was nice. The race
started prior dawn, but magically, as though it was planned, as racers progressed up the
road, the sun came up and shown the beauty of the high mountain desert in which we
were running. There were ranges on both sides of the valley in which we were running,
and the range to our left, the south side, began showing its dawn color, the perfect reds
and greens one sees in Salmon’s surroundings.


What was equally impressive was looking to the left at dawn; around mile two, we saw a
mule deer grabbing some grass in the far off field to the left of the course. Not far after
that, around mile three, many of the racers caught a glimpse of a moose also tending to its
dawn activities. Taking this further, while I’ve never run a marathon with a course like
this, there was also the pleasure of receiving a chorus of moos and whinnies, as we
passed pasture and ranches, running down Old Lemhi.


There is the component that sounds quite rural about that, but at the same time, there
were wonderful residents of Salmon and local farms out to cheer for us sporadically
throughout the course. Of course, from the race’s logistics there was adequate hydration
and toilets throughout the course, but amongst all of the crowds there, there was a chorus
of nice women standing at the gates of a ranch, around mile fourteen, waving American
Flags, singing “God Bless America.” It was difficult not to attempt to sing along with
them, as I threw my hand over my heart at the sight. Of course, keeping with the spirit of
the marathon and the wonderful people of Salmon, crowds gathered in spots throughout
the course. In spite of the town’s smaller population, there was no shortage of
community support from the people of Salmon, or the marathon’s volunteers.


Concluding the marathon into town there was an enjoyable length of downhill, which
lead onto Salmon’s streets. From there, the course wound over to the park near Idaho
Adventures, where the busses picked us up. As I ran down to the park, where the chutes
were located, a group of young women cheered for me, “Go Matt!” I looked at them
quite puzzled, and one responded with a smiling “Don’t worry, you don’t know us.” It
was tough not to both be flattered and chuckle at that component of the race. As I ran
into the chutes, the entire park was full of racers just having finished and spectators, all of
whom cheered me through the finish. Again, the theme of this smaller marathon was
consistent throughout the race.


It is all too easy to continue to write about how nice and kind the people of Salmon were
as volunteers and spectators, but the part that provided for enjoyment of that experience
was just how well the race was run. Kathy Gatens, the Race Director, and her group of
organizers, planners and volunteers, along with the police and fire fighters of Salmon put
on an event that was a continuous display of proper advance planning. Certainly, the
racers and people of Salmon were blessed with gorgeous weather for the race, but much
of that comes down to planning for the right date, based on the location.


Following the race, at 5 p.m. the town had a party at the cleaned up park, where the finish
line was located. At the party, racers were provided free access, whereas other patrons
were charged for admission. There were tents from local patrons, some were selling
food, some were advertising their products, and others were selling desserts for
donations, all of which reemphasized the gracious nature of the race, the town, and those
organizing the event. From there, a terrific bluegrass band, New South Fork Bluegrass
played a wonderful set of bluegrass music, both their originals and covers of classic
bluegrass musicians like Bill Monroe. With many from the town having volunteered to
help out with the marathon, there was a wonderful cross-section of families with parents,
grandparents, and young children dancing to the warm sounds coming from the band.


As some new friends of mine and I were standing a talking during a break in the music,
the Race Director Kathy walked by us, and we stopped to thank her for such a wonderful
race. I found myself saying to her, “Congratulations for planning such a wonderful race.
We all love the idea of running a marathon with a small number of participants in a
smaller city’s environment, like Salmon’s, but there are typically consequences choosing
to run a smaller city’s marathon, due to lack of planning or organization.” As Kathy
stood there grateful for the compliment, I said, “Kathy, this marathon was the perfect
blend of a smaller city’s atmosphere and the terrific planning you put behind it.” I felt
comfortable speaking on behalf of all of my fellow racers saying that, as I’d not heard
one person say something to the contrary. If one is looking for a small marathon, one
with limited participants, on a faster course with optimal conditions and planning, I
would immediately have to refer them to Salmon’s, as it was all of the above. I am quite
grateful I heard of it when I did, and registered. I am sure as word gets out about this
year’s marathon, future marathons in Salmon will be tougher entries to gain.

-Matt Johnson 14-September-08

The Internet’s Workaround for Pop-Ups

(a current rolldown ad)

(a cartoon making fun of "old" PopUps)

Is it just me, or is it frustrating how web designers have come up with the content roll down to workaround the pop-up blockers our web browser developers have put together? It’s quite frustrating, as there wouldn’t have been such developments if people were happy to be affronted with advertising content. It reminds me of the TiVo did to commercials on Television, and how there was balking at it. It makes one wonder, why do brands risk making their brand annoying? Would it not simply make more sense to produce the best product based on value, and proceed with that? Of course, based on the assumption that the market drives such behavior, clearly, there is success in it. That’s simply too bad. This post was brought to you by Matt – he’s smart.

Sitting in Coffee Shops

That is something I do more often than perhaps anyone should bother. I write that as here in Boise, I sit in Dawson Taylor next to two lovely young women, both of whom have nice strawberry blond hair. One is a nursing student; the other is working on getting her PhD in writing at USC. What’s nice is sitting near them falling into conversation; however, the challenge at the same time is not talking to them too much. One doesn’t want to be annoying to those which they would like to see again on friendly terms.

Of course, then it is that those nice enough to allow one to join in their conversation, without disapproving or frustrated looks, find the work that had them previously occupied. To be sure, being self-entertained is a primary motivator for bringing the laptop to the coffee shop.

Of course, then we can be reminded that we showed up here at the coffee shop with a laptop for a reason in the first place. Yes – that’s right, there is work to be done.

Salmon Salmon Salmon - A great marathon!

You know, you run, run, run, run, and finish!
Salmon was amazing! I've written a lot about it, but trying to find a way to trim down the essay for this blog.
In the meantime the results are there, and your Matt has run it. Not the first marathon in which I've participated, but thus far, it was the nicest. Something I said a lot while running the marathon, "I Love you Salmon! Thanks Salmon!"
http://www.salmonmarathon.com/results.html

Young Professionals

Today, I was at Boise Young Professionals, which was interesting. I decided to try out the first luncheon, to see if I had interest. I do, to some extent, so I will probably bone up and join. It’s a nice young professionals organization, which is interesting. I am working hard on keeping an open mind towards it, like most things along those lines, which I find a bit pretentious.

Above and beyond that, what was interesting was during their speaker’s main topic. The speaker initially was putting some folks on the spot, which was entertaining, and then he asked a voluntary question from a volunteer about a great business mentor one has had, and what they did. You get the picture.

I didn’t mention Ditto by name, but I raised my hand for the microphone, and mentioned his being an Idaho Vandal*. I went on to speak about how Ditto was a terrific communicator, but not just in speaking or writing, rather he was a great listener. His skills really involved honing in on someone’s ideas and synthesizing them into something quite successful.

The speaker as he took the microphone complimented me on the side, with the mic away.

It’s amazing how some can affect us in little ways, which come up during instances such as that one. Of course, there are great folks in all of our lives, but what is most spectacular is recalling what it was that made them so special, and how it helped make their lives great. Dear friends are about as good as it gets.






*there was an earlier discussion between the Vandals and the BSU Broncos, which is a standing debate here in Boise. It wasn’t anything of substance, except that it was a topic to which most could relate, there in the crowd.

Let’s See, Other Thoughts from this past Labor Day Weekend

It’s interesting, when talking to an old friend on the phone today, who went to LA for the weekend, what one can state about their weekends, respectively. While one summarizes their weekend’s past itinerary and what it was that was notable; thinking back over this past weekend, much of it was rather standard. I ran my “long run” on Saturday, which this week involved a mere 12 miles. From there, I went over to Java and played around a bit on an Economist, or something. Then I went to the CoOp to buy a few meat dishes for a colleague, her husband and I to eat at dinner on Saturday. Normally, I would prepare those things myself, but since I was taking the dishes to her house, along with some of my risotto, I felt like taking the easy way out, what with their already being packaged.

Dinner was nice, and it was interesting, as my colleague’s husband is a well informed financial professional. Jim’s perspective on today’s issues and the real estate market were quite interesting. My colleague had surgery on her hip, but seems to be doing much better, now that her surgery is several weeks behind her. Her spirit seemed quite up, which is what one hopes; prior her surgery, one could tell she was in pain.

Following from that was Sunday, which was nice. I went to church, like usual, and enjoyed spending time with my friend Betty, and the rest of the women with whom I sit. Betty and I, like usual, went for coffee afterward, and I met a nice women as we were leaving coffee. From there, I went to prepare for a marvelous Built to Spill show for Sunday evening.
Built to Spill played my favorite album of theirs, “Perfect from Now On.” It was masterfully performed, and I left pleased that I was in attendance. I adore Built to Spill, and living here in their hometown, I am delighted when I get to see them, with so many that no something more intimate about them.

Beyond that, yesterday was a nice day of rest. I went to Java—undoubtedly, you’re detecting a pattern, and I made some new friends. Right now, not that this is necessarily uncommon for me, I am in the friend-making business. Moving to a new city can be challenging, and Boise, being a smaller city doesn’t have nearly as much churn; therefore, culturally, the people, while friendly, are not as accustomed to having new folks integrated into their social circles. That is by no means a rule, but is something I have, from time-to-time, experienced.

Waking up this morning, with everyone else in the States off yesterday, was just so nice. It was nicer than vacation, largely because it wasn’t as though there was too much in the way of work being done while I was out. That’s always nice and refreshing, not to come back to a plethora of already started work.
That was it, a great Labor Day weekend.

Commonality

You know, it’s interesting, having a common name; it’s always evolved into something a bit more colloquial. That can be, both a blessing and a curse, as I am sure anyone can imagine. It’s one of those things that I sometimes take for granted. For instance, I don’t recall anyone ever mispronouncing my name or having to ask how to spell it. No – nothing of the sort has ever transpired. At the same time, however, there are the disadvantages.

“I know someone named Matt Johnson.” “Matt Johnson was a teacher of mine.” “Matt Johnson committed a crime in my town growing up,” etc… Like I said, it is both a blessing and a curse. The following is part of an email to the woman organizing programs for my church. I am co-leading a Confirmation/Teen “Sunday School,” this year, which should be fun. Like volunteering at the Boys and Girls Club, I enjoy teaching and helping kids learn. As I derive a nice amount of self-satisfaction out of the process, I don’t think I earn altruistic points, but with that, it’s great there is nothing better than a good win-win.

I should note, on the side, with Isaac and Aaron being co-leaders, I think I am going to have to start going by "Matthew," in order to keep things appropriately biblical. I am not sure how to put it otherwise. Isaac and Aaron both have the solemn tone and name-recognition associated with the Old Testament. Sure Matthew is a Gospel, but come on, every other kid in the Eighth Grade at North Middle School goes by "Matt," "Matthew," "Matty," or worse yet "Mattie."

I'd change my name to Mark, John or Luke, but I think I am beaten in those directions as well. Shucks, with Nathanael being from Bartholomew, I might have to start going that direction. Of course, then that lends itself to Simpson's references.

Can I be called Moses or Noah? I like Noah; that has sort of a Hollywood screenwriter feel to it...

Yeah, that’s it!
Best,
Noah

Diligence – on the Tunes

In the interest of diligence, I should note, I preeminently confess that my perspective is quite subjective. That subjectivity is twofold: one, I am happier here in Boise than I was in Chicago, which provides for a happier attendee, hence a warmer experience; two, because there aren’t as many shows, it doesn’t provide for the space to become apathetic. About those two factors, there is no question. I confess that I am most definitely affected by those two factors.

However, I have to qualify that admitted subjectivity. To hear the set lists I have in Boise, with the exception of the local Built to Spill set list, they have involved rarities that one would not hear from these same bands in a larger more frequently played market. Moreover, the crowd shares my enthusiasm, providing for no apathy, which feeds into the performers’ performances—e.g. Wilco’s “Longcore.”

Either way, be it in the “eye of the beholder,” or be it objectively accurate, it is what it is. I’ll take it, just like the traffic, or lack thereof—I am in love with living in Boise. Shhh—don’t tell anyone.

Shows in Boise

Moving to Boise, while it has not been perfect in every way, has a large number of advantages. Many of those advantages I’ve written about are the things I use to make myself feel better when I long for more and diverse restaurants, a greater number of eligible single young educated women, or diverse viewpoints. One further advantage to living here in Boise, which never ceases to delight me, is that Boise is infrequently visited by big national touring acts.

I know – I know, that is counter-intuitive, e.g. Matt, if you love music, you had to love the music scene in Chicago. Big bands played there all the time. Boise is small enough acts don’t play there very often. That’s what one would think, but evidence thus far has proved to be the contrary. Case and point, the last two shows I’ve seen in Boise, Robert Earl Keen and Wilco.

I saw Wilco play the neatest show I’ve seen them play, perhaps ever. That is no exaggeration. They played two encores, and had a great amount of fun. Of course, the venue was a winery converted into an outdoor venue. The stage was at a rather low height for an outdoor venue, with a flat gallery from which to watch the band. Jeff Tweedy commented he could “die” playing in Boise, on that stage, because of how comfortable he felt in the weather.

Prior the show, I’d not bothered to do any research about past Wilco shows in Boise, but Tweedy announced during the show that they’d not been in Idaho since “this small band for REM opened for us. We helped them get their start.” Of course, I could go into further detail on the set list, but that is unimportant. The only important thing to know was that I had more fun and enjoyment listening to Wilco in this beautiful setting, and Wilco was having a lot of fun playing for folks they’d assumed hadn’t heard them live for ten-plus years. As such, they dug into their back catalog, and played a few songs from “Mermaid Avenue,” etc…

Were I a bigger Robert Earl Keen, I could note the same sort of well loved seldom played “rarities,” but I’ve not seen enough of his shows to know better. Seeing Keen, however, proved a wonderful experience. Again, like Wilco, Boise not being a place he plays often, removed any apprehension he might have with him in Austin, or something.
The point is simple, while iterations are less frequent, when we get them, the shows are all the better. Apathy is lost in the beautiful setting with the enthusiastic crowd, leaving bands no choice but to put on an amazing show. Needless to say, I am most looking forward to seeing the Hold Steady in November!

Idaho Natives

Recently, I was coming into the parking lot, with a woman around my age at the same time. For purposes of anonymity, I won’t spell out her license plates, but I have been wondering forever, “To what do they translate?” I had been thinking “I donate….,” so I asked her, “What do you donate to? I am having a hard time deciphering your tags; they’ve been a curiosity of mine for a while.”

She mentioned, “It means Idaho native.”

“Oh,” I said, “I was trying to figure out what you donate to! Ha. Ha….” I was amused as I drove off, largely because I didn’t get it from the start. Beyond that, however, apparently not being someone didn’t damage my ego. It made me giggle at the fact that this woman was proud enough of something to put it on her tags, but that it is probably not deciphered by most.

Whatever the case, I suspect that this speaks to something more substantial, a fear I have coming to Idaho from Chicago. From my perspective, at least it’s not California, which is more typically derided by the locals here in Boise, the same way it assuredly is in Colorado. For me, though, it always begs the question, about xenophobia. I suppose xenophobia is predicated from the classic human condition of fearing an altering of the status quo. At the same time, however, I recall always being quite excited about something new and different, from childhood through adulthood. I guess, from my perspective, that’s when things are the most fun and the least mundane.

I suspect, at the same time, however, there are those, myself included, that come somewhere with sensibilities contrary to what people have known and loved for years. Examples I was just speaking about last night: Here in Idaho, water that is too cheap to encourage conservation; the need to make speaking on a mobile while driving a violation, something for which someone could receive a ticket. I think if one were to poll Idahoans, they would probably find those opinions quite contrary to their ideas of what is right, etc…

I suppose it’s something to consider.