The R.A.C.

Last September, as we and a few of our friends were discussing some group training runs that we had done to prepare for a relay race, the idea was tossed around of starting a runners club that would meet once a week for a communal dash. The conversation ended with all of us deciding to give it a go. Jason and I ran anyway so why not smack the asphalt with some buddies?

We collectively elected to operate our club with homogeny of responsibility a.k.a. we would take turns “hosting” our runs. The job of choosing locations and arranging our gatherings would alternate between members each week.

Every week Jason insists on taking a picture of our run. This has proven good advertising and has escalated attendance and anticipation.

I offered to create a Facebook group page for us so we would have a means of communicating with each other easily about our meetings. I also took it upon myself, because no one else offered any creative assistance, to name our organization. I decided to call us the R.A.C., an acronym for The Run Around Club. Utterly brilliant, right? Even more brilliant is the hidden joke in that name. For the greater part of my life my family and friends have referred to me as Rac so I kind of named this club after myself. What an ingenious egomaniac I am!

Jason and I offered to plan the R.A.C.’s inaugural run. Only 4 people showed up for that historic sprint but it was enough to get the movement going. I guess I shouldn’t have set everything up and taken all that initial initiative though. Everyone else acclimated very quickly, virtually instantly, to not having to be involved in the scheduling and location selecting. After multiple members shrugged off taking their turn at planning, Jason and I somehow became the “hosts” of every week from now until forever. Alas, why must I be so organized and responsible…and bossy? It almost always comes back to bite me. Jason and I now do pretty much all the coordinating, communicating, strategizing, energizing, and fraternizing for the R.A.C.

Stretching your upper thighs is very important before running, especially when striving to look ridiculous.

Whether due to the perseverance of our group’s great leaders, which I am gratuitously patting myself on the back for, or to the determination of our members, our club has been a huge success. Attendance at the R.A.C. has steadily increased since its inception. In the first month or two we never had more then 4 or 5 runners at each of our meetings but now we usually have about 7. We jogged outside in the fall until the sun set too prematurely to permit this and then we switched to a combo of outdoor Saturday and indoor evening runs. We’ve dashed over all manner of trail and track as we’ve diligently hit the pavement every week. The R.A.C. has only defaulted once and that was while Jason and I were away on vacation and therefore unable to bestow order to the entire universe.

The R.A.C. has proven itself remarkable. It motivates people to be more active than they ever thought they could be persuaded to be and it transforms what some would consider to be a miserable pursuit into a thrilling social experience. As we scuttle along we chat, race each other, and forget that we are actually exercising. The peer pressure and competitive challenge do wonders too I might add. Jason’s the superhero among us and he inspires us, or shames us, into picking up our pace a little. Seeing some club members try to outrun him makes me giggle a bit but keep it up boys.

Jeremy must not have gotten the "jumping" memo. His confused feet were firmly on the ground while the rest of ours were soaring.

I look forward to seeing my friends accomplish that which they didn’t think was possible as the R.A.C. continues to grow and outpace itself. Many of our members have already set lofty goals for themselves to push their progress along. Excellent! Long may the R.A.C. continue to flatten the flabby and firm the infirmed while entertaining all!

Escape to Powder Mountain

For years Jason and I have harbored fantasies of taking a boarding trip with a group of our powder junkie buddies: staying close to a fabulous resort, boarding until we are exhausted, coming back to our lodgings and jumping in a hot tub to relax our overly-used limbs. Doesn’t that sound exquisite? Well, last weekend all that we desired came to pass.

After Jacob pooped out, I rode with these three rascals. I did a decent job keeping up with them. Yeah me!

Jason and I invited a few of our friends, namely Adam, Jacob, and Jeremy, to spend the weekend with us at one of our timeshares located only ten minutes from Powder Mountain, a ski resort we had never ridden but had heard great things about. Our outing plans basically revolved around boards of various types: snowboards and game boards. Once our “boarding weekend” was cleverly named to reflect its clever design its ultimate success was assured.

The snow at Powder Mountain was surprisingly nice considering none of it was new and the sunshine was in no short supply.

Originally Abigail, Adam’s wife, was also going to join us but a sick kiddie put a stop to that. So I was stuck with four boys for the weekend and all I can say is that boys are messy. In regards to leaving dirty dishes and half eaten cookies around I think they were worse than children. I felt like I was forced into the role of den mother a bit but nothing makes a man feel at home like perpetual nagging. Right boys?

Lift rides provide ample opportunity for chatting and freezing.

We started the weekend off Friday night by watching a big mountain boarding flick, The Art of FLIGHT, and playing a few board games. Then we woke on Saturday morning all stoked to hit the peaks.

For some stupid reason we all decided to do "sexy snowboarder" poses at the top of the lift. Jeremy's was not suitable for children, or for anyone else with eyes really. Jason's just looked goofy.
My "hot" pose could be described by many adjectives but "hot" is not likely to be one of them.

I have to say that I was generally impressed with Powder Mountain. Even though we went on a Saturday this enormous resort wasn’t crowded at all; with runs up to 4 miles long I guess it’s easy to spread riders out. So no complaints from me…though Jacob may have a few. He hadn’t boarded in years and his reintroduction to the sport wasn’t as glamorous as he had envisioned it. He seemed to be surprised by the frequency of his falling; I wasn’t. (Jacob, you expected me to make fun of you so I’d hate to disappoint.)

Jacob actually looked normal in his "alluring" photo. How did he manage that when the rest of us appeared ridiculous?

Our boarding posse groped the slopes until the sun started going down and took the temperatures with it. Then it was hot tub time baby! We thawed out in the timeshare’s hot tub and dry sauna, and then, when male collective brain dysfunction syndrome kicked in, we had a snowball fight with painfully crystallized snow, while in our wet swimming attire, before beginning the warming process all over again. Boys are dumb but they can be fun.

Four topless boys hanging in a tub, cuddling with each other while their bubbles go "glub."

I quite enjoyed my boarding weekend. I think it might be something we repeat in the future but I hope next time a few ladies will join us so I don’t have to be the only voice of reason or cleanliness’ lone sentinel.

Looking Again at Sundance 2012

The Sundance Film Festival takes place every January right here in the heart of exotic Utah but, although players come from all over the world to be present at this illustrious affair, to many Utahans this event is little more than a nuisance that makes the streets and ski resorts unnaturally crowded.

However, to me and Jason Sundance is a chance to get an exclusive look at some pretty awesome, and sometimes not, indie films and catch the movie makers and actors.

This year Jason and I again pulled our act together and remembered to register for the locals passes in the fall. We shared half of our tickets with a few lucky friends. (Yes, you are very fortunate that we are willing to let you benefit from all the planning and shuffling we have to do in order to get tickets.) That left me and Jason with passes to five shows, five movie surprises.

The Bones Brigade members were gracious and appreciative. Talent and manners: what a lovely combination.

As I’ve always said, at the Sundance Film Festival you get a singular opportunity to see movies without any critics telling you what you should think about them. With no trailers to whet your appetite, no ratings to enthrall or appall you, nothing to recommend a show, you are free to experience it with no expectations or preconceptions. Since everyone’s opinion about everything is available at the click of a mouse these days, concluding without the collective is a rare treat indeed.

The downside to not knowing anything about a movie before you see it is that you don’t know anything about it before you see it. You are occasionally amazed, sometimes caught off guard, and quite often just plain confused. But who wouldn’t want to play a little cinematic roulette?

Here’s what we saw:

Bones Brigade: an Autobiography was my favorite film this year. The documentaries at Sundance are generally superb and without fail one of them ends up my top pick every time. This year this one was it. If “Bones Brigade” stirs up thoughts of burial site digging Indiana Jones types then either you weren’t around in the 80s or you were completely oblivious back then. The Bones Brigade was a team of skateboarders that brought the sport up a notch twenty plus years ago. Heard of Tony Hawk? Maybe Steve Caballero? Or Rodney Mullen? How about the tricks they invented when they were merely teenagers: the McTwist, Ollie Pop, Kickflip, Caballerial? If not, you best be a googling.

I’m no skateboarding expert but I still loved this show and was very impressed by the Brigade in general and their treatment of their fans. Nearly all of the gang showed up at our screening to sign posters including Mike McGill, Steve Caballero, Tommy Guerrero, Rodney Mullen, Lance Mountain, and their old manager, the skateboarding legend, Stacy Peralta. Hawk was the only one missing; apparently he had contractual obligations in Australia. All the boys were exceptionally nice but Rodney was an absolute sweetheart.

A big snow storm hit the night we went to see Compliance. We had to wait in line outside the Tower Theater while giant flakes accumulated on our heads and shoulders.

Declaration of War was a very French portrayal of a couple’s experience when their two-year old son is diagnosed with a rare brain cancer. It was sad and strangely European yet still universally appealing.

Beasts of the Southern Wild was a fantastical journey into the disappearing cultures of the Deep South as seen through the eyes of a fierce darling girl. The unusual characters of this show live in a world almost as extraordinary as the one fabricated by that little munchkin.

The audience went crazy for the cast and director of Beasts of the Southern Wild. I guess even the indie arena has its bigwigs.

I won’t lie, Compliance was one of the hardest movies to watch that I’ve ever seen. It was well done but the subject matter, based on true events, was a depressing commentary on human nature and the power of authoritative figures. The audience was constantly squirming throughout and not all of us made it through.

Grabbers was a fun throwback to the monster movie classics. It was more intense than disturbing and giggling spots were found throughout. I really enjoyed its mix of horror and humor.

We had another satisfying Sundance experience. We saw shows that made us writhe, cry, jump, long to jump, and contemplate the complexities of human behavior. Not too bad for a bunch of films we chose based on a few synoptic sentences.