It’s been almost two months since my last post.  One of my last posts was something along the lines of wanting to write more.  Well . . .

Actually, I’ve been working a lot the past few months and in my spare time I’m doing a lot of running.  I finally got through the London Marathon ballot this year, so I’m trying to take that pretty seriously.

Last week, I did two 9-mile runs during the week before work (and three mile runs on the other days).  On Sunday, I ran 21.8 miles.  The marathon is two months away, but I wanted to see if I could run that far. My distances have been gradually increasing each week, so I’m confident I should be okay on marathon day—at least, if i keep from injuring myself.

My long run on Sunday was the farthest I’ve ever run without stopping to walk.  I ran a marathon when I was 22, but after 18 miles I started to walk and did a half-run, half-walk, for the rest of the race.  They say the important thing is being able to finish, but I’ve always been disappointed in myself for walking.  This time, for my second marathon 18 years later, I will do a lot better.

I’m enjoying the really long runs. A short run (and I consider the 9-mile run to be short these days) are usually over tried-and-true paths which I’m very familiar with.  But the long run has become like a trip.  A few weeks ago, I ran to the next big town over.  This week, I followed a bike path that went through several villages in the area that I would probably never drive through. It was nice.  It took me 3 hours and 8 minutes.

I started experimenting with different things while running.  I tried those sport gels for energy, and they worked pretty well –but they cost a pound a pop.  The first week I tried to eat some of the gel I thought I was going to be sick, but the next week I knew what to expect and, after an hour and a half of running, thought it was tastiest thing I’d ever eaten.  This last week, I shoved a hot-cross bun in the pocket of my running jacket and ate that after an hour.  I never would have thought I could eat and run and the same time, but if someone could—it would be me.

While on the long run the other day, I passed an older guy running.  I thought my pace was slow, but I passed this guy really quickly.  It was in the middle of no-where (no towns nearby), so I assumed he was going a good distance.  I said good morning to him as I passed, but then became very worried about my pace.  I thought I must be going too fast and I would be stuck miles from home limping back.  But it was fine—I completed the whole distance.

I listen to a lot of podcasts and audio books when I run.  The biggest problem with marathon training is keeping your mind occupied.  When you get into a rhythm and stop thinking about the running, it gets almost like a long car trip.  If you can stop from thinking about your legs or how tired you are, you’re fine.  But when you do focus on the pain, it’s difficult to continue.  Music is nice for the shorter runs, but the long distances need something a bit more engaging.

One thing I noticed about these long Sunday runs (I only passed 10 miles about 6 weeks ago), is that once I stop, my legs seize up.  I’m fine while running, but as soon as I finish, within 5 minutes my calves will tighten to where it’s difficult to stand.  Usually, a hot bath seems to loosen them up just fine though.

The half-marathon is a month away.  The London Marathon is two months away.  If I can keep from injuring myself, I should be okay.

On my new Kindle, I’ve been reading a lot of Mark Twain.  I bought the new autobiography that came out in August and it’s great (although very long—I will be reading it for a while) and have also recently read “The Innocents Abroad”.  I read quite of few of Mark Twain’s works in the past.  I don’t read fiction (or even autobiography) very often, so it’s been a real treat to not think about technology or self-improvement for a while.

We had to read Huckleberry Finn in high school.  It had the n-word.  We had to know that “that’s how people talked back then.” 

There’s a big controversy over removing the word in newer editions of the book.  It is being held as political correctness gone amok.  I know the book is often banned because of that word.

But, to be honest, I don’t see the problem changing it.  That word is not what made the book a success.  If it makes it easier for the single black child in an all-white suburban classroom to get through his day, then great.

As a teenager, I also read the “Count of Monte Cristo” and I’m pretty sure the language of that book was changed too (out of sensitivity to the fact that I don’t speak French).  It was still a great book.

The big Christmas present for me this year was the Kindle.  I’ve wanted one since they came out in the States a few years ago, but they were only made available in England last year.  When I took on a contract a few months ago, I told myself that I would buy myself a Kindle to celebrate (it didn’t seem right to buy one when the money wasn’t coming in), but I was told to hold off until after Christmas.

I have a habit of buying myself things before Christmas.  This makes shopping for me pretty difficult.  If there is something I really really want, I will usually just buy it.  The only time I wouldn’t just buy it, would be if it was too expensive.  In this case, it would definitely be too expensive for someone else to get it for me for Christmas.

I found myself more jaded about Christmas shopping this year.  My entire life, I’ve heard the same complaints about Christmas—it’s too commercial.  I never understood this as a kid, but when you grow up it’s hard to avoid.  As a kid, the more stuff the better.  As an adult, you start to look at how much clutter you have in your life and get tired of being marketed to.

I refuse to shop for presents before December.  This often means a lot of panic at weekends leading up to the big day.  I walk down a high street—my feet shuffling and trudging forward aimlessly—without a clue about what to buy other people.  Other members of my family are shuffling around with no idea what to buy me.  I found myself thinking this year: “Didn’t we just have Christmas?”

There is so much tat and junk at Christmas that it is actually an economy in itself. There is an entire product range that should be called “We know you would never buy this normally, but since it is Christmas and you have no idea what to get him—we know you’ll buy it now”.  The ads are all filled with perfume, celebrity autobiographies, and Jeremy Clarkson DVDs at Christmas time.  There’s no chance you would buy any of this junk if you didn’t feel you absolutely had to fill that gap in your Christmas list.

Christmas is funny this way.  There is such a build up for the big day and everyone wants to capture the magic of their childhood once again with it.  As a parent, I’m very conscious of the fact that those magical moments are happening now for my kids, so I want the holiday to be as perfect as it can be.  But, after New Years Day, you are left with lots of extra baggage and a tree in your living room.

I started writing this to say how cool my new Kindle is and ended with a rant about Christmas.  Well, I’ll talk about the Kindle another time.

One of the most surprising things I found when learning meditation was that you can never keep your mind completely blank.  Even seasoned Buddhist monks have to bring their minds back to the present after it wanders.

I started learning to meditate in May of last year.  I do it nearly every day.  I started out meditating for twenty minutes twice a day, but now I mostly do it only once a day.  It’s not easy finding a quiet place all the time.

I’ve been interested in meditation for a long time.  Back when I was learning Vietnamese while in the army, our class visited a Buddhist temple.  It was actually more of a big house on a nice part of Oahu, I don’t remember exactly where.  We were given a little talk by a Buddhist monk and given a tour through rooms of other monks meditating.  We all whispered, because we didn’t want to wake the monks.  But, we were told that the monks were not sleeping or in any kind of trance state at all.  They were completely aware of our presence.  They were just so disciplined that they could continue to meditate even though we were walking through the rooms on our tour.  It was fascinating.

I wish I had that discipline.  It looked so peaceful and free of stress.

I’m not a Buddhist—I don’t really consider myself religious at all. 

I meditate to clear my mind.  I’m not a big believer in the metaphysics of it.

I had initially booked a Transcendental Meditation course last year.  They have a very informative website and it is the same type of meditation that all the famous people do (like the Beatles, Russell Brand, Howard Stern, etc).  I contacted a local instructor was ready to pay a few hundred pounds to take a four-day course after an introductory talk.  During the talk, I was asked to bring a few items (like a fresh flowers and a handkerchief) for the first class.  These items would be used for a “puka” ceremony which, the instructor admitted, sounded religious but really wasn’t.  Some of the claims made during the talk didn’t quite gel with me either.  This didn’t sound very scientific to me, despite scientific foundations that Transcendental Meditation seems to espouse.  Yogic flying particular bothered me.

A few days later, I found a website called “Falling Down the TM Rabbit Hole” by Joe Kellett.  He is a former TM teacher and wrote a site very critical of TM—basically equating it to a cult.  I’m so glad I found that.  It’s an fascinating read.  I cancelled the course and emailed Joe to thank him for his very useful site.  He emailed back.  I then asked him if there was any meditation he would recommend.  He sent me a few book titles and websites to look at.  It was great.  I wanted a secular meditation experience.

So, I read a few books and tried to explore meditation from a more scientific standpoint.  I read The Relaxation Response by Herbert Benson which looks at the scientific benefits of Transcendental meditation using lots of case studies.  Also, Joe sent me a site on Amaravati mediation (which is a Buddhist mediation)—the site was very basic and a quick read.  Basically, the act of meditating is simple—it’s just how you interpret the effects.  TM claims that you can’t do it without a teacher and taking the expensive course.  I haven’t found that to be the case.

I’ve been mediating since May and find it very enjoyable.

I usually sit down to meditate for 20 minutes in the morning.  I’ve tried different methods, but I find that focusing on a mantra (in the Transcendental Meditation style) to work better than focusing on my breath (as in the Buddhist and other styles).  I try to let go of the thoughts in my head.  I try to let go of my worries, concerns, passions, or anything else that takes me out of the current moment sitting alone in a chair.  I try to let go of the room I sit in and the world around me.  I try to experience each passing second without putting any of my own labels on it.

This is harder than it sounds.  Sometimes, it may take over 10 minutes of the 20 minutes just to get to the state where my mind will quiet down.  Logically, I know to dismiss the inner voices– but it’s so hard to do. 

In most of the literature I’ve read, they call this voice the ego.  The ego is not you, it is your representation of you.  It is who you think you are, based on all the previous experiences you’ve had.  Eckhart Tolle calls it the photo-album you pull out to show everyone else and yourself who you are.  The reality is, however, that you can be anyone you want to be from this moment forward.  I can become an axe murder at this moment if I wanted to.  People would talk about it being uncharacteristic of me, but I get to decide what my character is.

The ego is important–it’s you after all—but it gets in the way and interferes with everything you do.  It fills your life with commentary.  The goal of meditation, for me, is to get away from the running commentary for a little while.  Not every passing second needs commentary.  Think about what it was like as a child when you could look at something and examine it without passing any judgement over it. 

But it’s so hard to get rid of the commentary. 

To give an idea, here’s some of the things that go through my head in the middle of mediation:

“Okay, let’s clear the head . . . focus.” 

Then, I go to the mantra and to the current moment.  The mantra repeats itself in my head.  It’s there to keep my mind from wandering.

But then, the ego steps in: “Hey, this is great.  I’ve actually cleared my head.  This isn’t too tough.”  This is the kind of commentary I want to get rid of.  This is the ego poking his head in. 

Then, the ego takes me back into my head: “Hey it’s cold in here. Well, it’s not cold like Alaska probably is.  My sister lives in Alaska.  Man, she’s all grown up. I remember when we were kids in the 80s.  Man I watched a lot of TV in the 80s.  Max Headroom was a good show.  When did that disappear?  I wonder what it would be like if they did that show today . . . “ and so on, and so on.

Soon, I’m not even in the room anymore. I’m completely in my head floating around in irrelevant and tedious memories.  I’m experiencing things that aren’t even happening now.  I’m focusing on things that no longer exist. 

When I realise where I’ve gone, I come back to the mantra and back to the room.  This is the process.  Rinse and repeat.

During mediation, my mind will wander to all kinds of things.  I might think about a TV show I’ve seen, or something I have to do for work.  I might think about a song my childhood or a TV jingle.  Sometimes a face of someone I barely know will flash into my memory.  It’s so complete bizarre sometimes the stuff that creeps in there.  But, when you realise you have drifted, you come back to the mantra and back to that moment and that room from wherever you drifted off to in your mind.

While I’m not a big believer in the metaphysics of mediation, there are quite a lot of things that I’ve thought about a lot since meditating.  For example, I think about how much we store in our brains.  I don’t think you could ever travel into the past (like in a time machine) because the things in the past only exist in our memories—and these are restricted by what we can see, feel, hear, etc.  and are shaded by any emotions we have about what we’ve experienced.  If you meet someone for two minutes and he’s an asshole, he will be an asshole forever.  It’s like watching a TV show you’ve taped years ago, except the reception wasn’t that good when you recorded it—so it will always be bad.  The only time the past is relevant is if I remember it, or if someone holds it up in front of me (like a book or a movie or a story someone is telling me).  You’d be justified in pointing out how much I talk about the past . . .

This post is longer and more sanguine than I intended.  Sorry about that.  I’ll try to lighten up a little.  Later.

I tend to get very sentimental about my running shoes.  I only change them every one or two years.  I wait until the last possible moment (like getting a haircut) before buying a new pair.  I usually know I absolutely need a new pair when all the original rubber is gone from the sole and I start getting running injuries.  I love my shoes to be the dirtiest and grimiest they can be.

My last pair of of shoes have lasted me for hundreds, maybe even a thousand, miles.  They’ve been through two half-marathons along with all the training that required. They are a pair of white and blue Asics I bought at a sporting goods store in Newbury a year and a half ago.  They’ve served me well, but they were ready for retirement.

Under the guise of “running some errands”, I left the shoes by the back door at home and visited the same sporting goods shop in Newbury.  I hate buying new shoes (well, all kinds of clothing actually).  There are so many different brands and it seems too tedious to try them all on.

It took me a while, but I finally got the attention of a guy who worked there to help me fitting a new pair.

“Do you have high arches or low arches?” he asked me.  I didn’t understand the question.  I’ve been running for fun since I was 18, but no one had ever asked me that.  I told him I didn’t know what he was talking about.  But I made sure to mention that I’ve been running a long time so he wouldn’t think I was just one of those New Years guys who picks up a pair of shoes a few days before the 1st and then never tough them again.

He made me stand on a little gel heat sensor device.  It was like standing on a big mood ring, so when I stepped off of it, you could see the imprint of my feet.  I’m low arched, but apparently I’ve always worn high arched shoes.  Does this mean I’m flat-footed?  That’s always a bad thing when they talk about it on TV (usually about cops).  Hmm, more internet research is required here, I think.

I picked up a new pair of Asics.  I used to be a Nike man, but admittedly I liked the ads more than anything else.  I also liked to shop at the Nike store in London because it made me feel more athletic.  But, in the end, I find the Asics shoes a lot more comfortable and usually cheaper.

My old shoes, dutifully sitting by the back door, warned me of the blisters and pains I would get from the new pair of shoes—and they were right.  After my first 6-mile run in the shoes, I have blisters on my arches.  Maybe I am high-arched after all, and the machine was wrong.  But, the calluses will form and the new pair of shoes will take me at least a year forward. 

I’m training for the marathon this year, so lots of miles need to be piled up. 

I couldn’t throw away the old shoes just because all the rubber has disappeared from underneath them.  They’ve become my gardening shoes.  Now, I just have to take up gardening.

So, I read in the Independent this morning that Bill Clinton is a vegan now. I think he won an award from PETA for it. I couldn’t believe it. I remember in 96 when David Letterman said in a monologue (and I’m paraphrasing) “Today Bob Dole challenged Bill Clinton to three debates. Clinton instead challenged Dole to a pie eating contest.”  Now, he’s a vegan?

I shook Bill Clinton’s hand once.

It was in 93 or 94 at Hickam Air Field while President Clinton was taking a vacation in Hawaii. Air Force One was on an air strip about a mile away from where we lived. When word came that he was flying out, I went to see what was going on. There was a huge crowd at the airstrip already when I arrived and the Secret Service had corralled everyone into a little fenced off area.  One agent (I assume that’s what he was) told us that the president probably would just get straight on the plane from his car and not greet the crowd. However, Clinton is very good about pleasing voters and, when the motorcade showed up, he did approach the rope line and shook everyone’s hand and talk to the people for about 20 minutes before boarding the plane. Hillary did too. I was eager to see him in person.  He was the President of the United States and had been my Commander in Chief for two of my four years in the Army.

When he got close to where I was standing in the rope-line, I could hear what he was saying to everyone else as he shook hands. It was polite stuff – “Hi, where you from? That’s great, that’s great.” It was hard not to like him. He’s a very likeable guy. He shook my hand and looked me in the eye and said hello. It was pretty cool. The entire time, a Secret Service agent stood behind him whispering stuff in his ear like “Theres a curb right behind you, watch your step.”

It was a nice experience, but I hated seeing how everyone in the crowd gushed and how he put on that politician smile and he spoke to everyone.  He wasn’t royalty, after all.

I’ve never been a Bill Clinton fan. After moving to England in 98, I found out how popular he was overseas. So many people over here absolutely loved him in England. I came out here just before the impeachment, so there was a lot of discussions about how up-tight Americans are to impeach him for something so personal. I explained that he was being impeached for perjury, but you can’t disuade fans that easily.

Clinton did a lot of good, don’t get me wrong. In retrospect, he wasn’t all that bad. George W. Bush made him look like a genius. But, like all former presidents, he looks a lot better giving a 5-minute speech at a party convention than he did giving a press conference as president.

What really bothered me most about him was the phoniness. I hated when he told voters at a town hall meeting “I feel your pain.” I hated it when he bit his lip and got all misty-eyed during the national anthem.  He never seemed genuine to me, and he still doesn’t.

When I think about Clinton, I think about the phoniness and the career politician. I find Obama to much more authentic and genuinely believe he is doing his best. When I hear pundits say that he can learn from Clinton the politician, I cringe.

But he’s a vegan now, and it’s big news. I wonder if it wasn’t big news, if he would have bothered at all.