Thoughts on insanity and gratitude

I've heard insanity described as, " doing the same thing and expecting different results." If that's true I guess I'm insane, at least when it comes to Odie.

Richard and I are attending a bird training workshop this weekend and while I was cleaning Odie's cage and getting his food ready I started to wonder if he was still a biter when it came to me. He has calmed down a lot and seems quite friendly and content most of the time. He is more gentle with Richard than he was and I hoped that he might have given up the desire for human-finger protein.

I talked to him as I usually do when his is out on his gym. He lets me get quite close to him and often blinks his eyes and puffs up and preens. Today he came over to the corner of his gym and dipped his head, his typical motion when he wants a head scratch. Richard has a hand signal he uses with Odie to show his willingness to scratch. I did the hand signal and Odie again dipped his head.

I figured I had to put this relationship to the test at some point so I took a deep breath to make sure I was steady and then reached out to gently scratch the top of his head. I got one scratch in and then he nailed me - hard - so hard that when I took my hand away, or tried to, I lifted him up by his beak.

When a bird bites you're supposed to push towards him which surprises him and makes him let go. Good theory if you can remember to do it. Since Odie was firmly attached I put my other hand underneath him and put him rather unceremoniously into his cage and closed the door.

I guess there's no doubt about who the nut case is in this scenario. I hope there will be something new this weekend or, at least, a new slant on the information we already have so that I can begin to work with Odie. We're great friends as long as the cage bars separate us but I would like to be able to handle Odie safely and give him the attention that he so loves. It would be much better for all of us. How do I convey that to the little green dragon with the lightning-fast beak?

I had Odie out of his cage before Richard came home because we had theatre tickets tonight and we wanted to be there early to pick them up at the box office. The play True Love Lies was very engaging and quite witty.

As we were walking out at the end a young man caught my eye and said, "Hi, I'm so glad to see you here." I looked over my shoulder thinking he must be talking to someone else. When I turned back, he was still looking at me. "You taught me drama," he said. "I remember all your classes and now I'm a drama teacher too." I asked him his name. I did remember his name but couldn't bring to mind where I had taught him. I think we exchanged a few more words and I hope I thanked him for stopping to speak to me. I wish him well in his teaching and hope that someday a student will approach him to let him know that he made a difference. Interesting how, in one day, small things can balance each other out.

Eighteen half-marathons later

When I was a kid I ran around the neighbourhood and played outside until dark as did all the kids of my generation. I don't think there were a lot of organized activities for kids and even if there had been, most parents couldn't have afforded them. When we got to junior high we had to take Phys Ed. We had to change into shorts and blouses, this was prior to t-shirts, do jumping jacks and run around the gym and try to jump up and touch the basketball nets. We played badminton, volleyball, basketball and did some rudimentary gymnastics. In the spring we went outside for track and field.

I didn't much like PE. I wasn't good at any of the sports and was kind of a loner to boot. I always tried really hard even though I couldn't see the point of sports. I felt clumsy and awkward. I remember taking a fitness test at one point and getting a certificate for participating. I think I tossed it out and determined that I would quit Phys Ed just as soon as I had the grade ten requirement and I would never have anything to do with sports again.

As with so many things in life, that's not the way it turned out. In university I was too involved with theatre to think of much else and I kept my promise to stay away from sports. When I got a job in Banff I did some hiking and snowshoeing and liked that but that had nothing to do with my idea of what sports were about. I even tried downhill skiing because all my friends were doing it.

While living in Banff I needed to get from the theatre to the high school where the musical theatre division rehearsed. Walking was slow so I bought a ten-speed bike for transportation. I liked riding my bike as a kid and when I got to junior high I became much too sophisticated to continue to ride a bike. In Banff I found I still enjoyed riding my bike and would often open up the theatre, get a rehearsal started and then take off and ride around the golf course. It wasn't unusual to see elk or moose and once or twice I saw bears.

Back at university and in my first few years teaching I didn't ride the bike. Life seemed too full of planning and marking and I sold the bike. Then came mountain bikes. I liked the idea of a mountain bike, different riding posture, fatter tires and lower gears so I bought one and joined the Elbow Valley Cycle Club. From then on we cycled quite a lot and I started to subscribe to Bicycling Magazine. I think it was in those pages that I read an article which said that cyclists had the bone density of couch potatoes. I found that irritating because by then I had become interested in the health benefits of exercise. I decided that I could start running. After all, I didn't need a lot of gear to do that and I hoped it would improve the bone-density outlook.

I took a learn-to-run course and with some friends entered a couple of 5K races. They were fun. I wasn't fast which didn't really matter as there were lots of interesting people to watch and talk to. I began to wonder if I could run longer races and did some 10K's. By this time I was hooked; I had a gym membership and was running at least three times a week. Somebody suggested that we enter the Police Half Marathon. That was scary. It was a long distance and I knew it was going to be hard but I wanted to see if I could do it. I could so I did more.

Then the idea of a marathon started to tickle at the back of my brain. The university had a training program that prepared the participants to run the Honolulu Marathon. My running partner and I signed up. We were both apprehensive. What if we spent all this time and money training and got injured or couldn't finish? We trained hard. It seemed that we only had time for work training, eating and sleeping. Flying over to Hawaii in December with the rest of the people in the course I felt like a real athlete.

The day of the marathon was hot and humid and we ended up walking the last 5 K. It didn't matter. There were people in the streets cheering us on. Some folks had hoses to spray us so we could cool off. At the end of the race one of the coaches reminded us that our medals were exactly the same as someone who did the course twice as fast as we did. He also said he thought it was harder to go slowly because you were out in the sun and the heat longer.

After that marathon I wanted to try for a faster time so I entered the Royal Victoria Marathon the next year and came in right on my target time. I was happy with that and decided not to do any more marathons. It took too much time to train and I was worried about injuries.

Other things came up and I didn't do any races for almost four years. Earlier this year I decided to sign up for another half marathon. If I paid the money to register that meant I had to go and that meant I had to train. And so I began again. That race was in the pouring rain and as I was driving to the start I thought, "You know you don't have to do this. You could just turn around and go home." I decided that having put in the training I'd just be grumpy if I didn't finish the race. My time was slower than the last time I did a half and my hands were so cold driving home that they were tingling. The car has heat and Richard greeted me with hot chocolate when I got home. Wanting to keep the momentum going, I signed up for another half marathon.

Last Sunday I completed my eighteenth half marathon. There were only five people in my age group, men and women combined. I walked the course and my time was among the slowest, although I did manage a faster time than a few women in their forties. Again I'm pleased with myself. We walkers started an hour early. When the first runners began to pass me many of them said, "Good job," or "You're looking good." These are the really fast guys who could just blow by me without saying a word but they take the time to offer encouragement. Most runners I meet are a very accepting lot and I feel at home among them.

It's a long way and a lot of years since I decided I wasn't going to have anything to do with sports. I'm glad I changed my mind.