Out of the gym

While I love to be in the gym, I have a passion for the outdoors.  My outdoor gym if you will.  The last 15 years of my life since I moved to the Pacific Northwest, I have explored hiking, backpacking, fishing, fly fishing,  rock climbing, mountaineering, cross-country skiing, back-country skiing, and telemark skiiing.  And while all of these activities  have a prominent place in my heart, my trips to fire lookout towers take the cake.

For the last 15 years, Lori and I have been skiing into fire lookout towers in the winter and spring all over Oregon and Washington.  I guess one could say for a while I was obsessed with lookouts, and presently, they are still a big part of my life.  At least twice a year, out family will ski into a lookout.  This usually happens in January or February when snow is several feet deep.  This requires skiing in for 2 to 8 miles depending how far you can drive.  Since my youngest son is only 4, I usually pull him in a sled, while my 7 year old skis along side of me.  Once in the lookout, we are blessed with a wood stove, and a 360 degree view of mountains with breathtaking sunsets and spectacular sunrises.

The sweaty, stinky gym has its charm.  But the allure and amazement of fire lookout experiences cleanse my spirit.  If you have the drive, check out a fire lookout in your stomping ground.

Old School

I just can't quit playing basketball.  I should.  My body is telling me that I need to.  Two years ago, I had my 3rd surgery on my left knee.  The first was ACL and other two were meniscus.  I basically have severe arthritis in my knee.  Bone on bone.  I remember my surgeon saying, "You can think of your knee like an old sports car with a limited amount of miles left--you can use up all the miles right now, or spread them out for the rest of your life."  I tend to live in the now.  And Old School is now.


Old School is the name of my basketball team.  We have played together for about 8 years in the Portland city league www.portlandbasketball.com.  Our average age is 43.  We go 6'7", 6'7", 6'6", 6'4', 6'2", 6'1", and me, 5'7".  All but 2 on our team played College basketball, even if it was back when there was no 3 point line.  We routinely compete, and do quite well, against teams half our age.  There is something quite satisfying about walking in the gym, and witnessing our opponents sizing us up in our old school shoes and athletic wear, snickering all the while.  And then they soon find out that they have to play defense for more than 5 seconds, and witness a sky hook, and a backdoor cut for a lay-up, and ball fake after ball fake.  Old School style.


Old School always goes out after the game.  I would say 75% of that time is spent talking about the game.  Reliving shots, blocks, passes and plays.  There is often a bag of ice on a knee or ankle.  And we talk about the inevitable soreness we will feel the next few days.  But we keep coming back for more.  It feeds our soul.

Use your health, even to the point of wearing it out.
 That is what it is for. 

Spend all you have before you die; do not outlive yourself.

George Bernard Shaw

Yes, I'm Competitive

Anyone who spends any time with me will tell you that I'm competitive. 


I remember telling a soccer team that I was coaching, "I wouldn't let my Grandma beat me at tiddly-winks." (I'm not even sure what this is or if it's a game, but you get the idea).  My wife wants to play this or that game "just for fun" and not keep score;  I don't understand that mindset.  I hate bowling "for fun."  What's the point?


Again, I will blame my Dad for this problem, if you will.  You see, this is not something that I'm proud of - I recognize that's just who I am and how I tick.  My dad would routinely pummel my brother and I at all kinds of sports/activities growing up.  I remember desparately trying to beat him at ping-pong, but to no avail.  I still recall after each whipping he would say in a joking (yet partially serious voice), "What do you need? A different ball? Change paddles? Change sides? Dim the lights?"  Boy did that eat at me,  while fueling my competitive drive.


I'm now 40, and my Dad's planning his retirement.  Last month we were playing badminton  when I was home for the holidays, a sport he taught in college (He had a rule that anyone who beat him received an A--it never happened) and I was winning game after game. And he kept playing and playing.  He played until he finally beat me, a few handicaps allowed, and you know I didn't let him win. 


That said, whether playing Scrabble, throwing cornhole, or kicking it out on the pitch, I play fair.  I lend a hand if I knock 'em down and veer on calling that tennis serve "in" when it's too close to call.  


I recently saw the movie, Moneyball and a quote from Billy Beane, played by Brad Pitt resonated with me.  He said, "I hate to lose more than I love to win."  I agree.

Playing to win, Scrabble tournament, Fivemile Lookout