Race for Research 2009

The man playing chess in this picture is one of the smartest cats I’ve ever known. His name is Kaz, and he’s my late father-in-law. He passed away in the summer of 2008 after fighting brain tumors for about two years.

Later that summer, my wife found the Race for Research, a 5K fun run & walk benefiting the Cancer League of Colorado, with the proceeds being tagged specifically for brain cancer research. We signed up and participated last August. My brother Brad is a cancer survivor, and he and his wife joined us in the walk. I babbled the whole way around, which left me a little breathless, but we had a great time. And then there were free pancakes after the race! Can’t beat that with a stick.

Now is the time for the 13th Annual Race for Research 5K Fun Run and Walk. It’s going to be August 23, 2009, in Washington Park, in Denver. I’ve set up a page for family and friends that kind of explains what we’re doing and simplifies the sign-up information from the official race site (don’t get me started on the 13-year-old design of that site!).

If you can participate on that Sunday, we’d love to have you join us. A bunch of us will be walking, and I think one or two may run. If you just want to contribute to the fundraising but can’t do the 5k, there’s a convenient link included for that. And registration and donation is easier than last year, so that’s good.

We sincerely hope you can come walk or run with us!

Why I left Louisiana

I was born in New Orleans in the mid ’60s. My family moved to a suburb before my first birthday. I grew up there, in that same suburb through high school. I graduated from a university town only about an hour away from home. At that commencement ceremony, only two of my friends came to celebrate with me, and no family members. Sidney Barthelemy, then the mayor of New Orleans, gave the commencement address. I can summarize his entire speech in one sentence:

PLEASE DON’T LEAVE!

So let’s back up a few years. My parents separated when I was around 12 years old. Ultimately my mother moved to Colorado. Being the youngest in the family, Mom got custody of me every summer for a number of years. That meant I got to visit Colorado a lot before leaving high school. There was a lot to like – a drier climate, cooler nights, mountains, even snow.

Over time, nearly everyone in my family moved away from Louisiana. Mom had moved a couple of times for my step-dad’s career – Colorado and California and Florida. My sister had long ago moved to Kansas. Both brothers ultimately moved to Colorado, also. That left my dad and stepmother and my stepsister in Louisiana. My stepsister was destined to stay in New Orleans, it seems – she’s still there today and I think she now qualifies as a native. But my dad was retiring and he and my stepmom moved back to her little hometown in Missouri after my fourth college year. I had one more semester to go, thanks to my decision to change my major after two years in. So, I spent the Fall semester, my final one, in Louisiana alone except for a couple of good friends.

What was there to keep me in Louisiana? I had some friends, but are those enough to keep someone in one place? For some people, yes, but countless people move all the time and leave friends behind. I had my degree, but I had decided not to pursue the subject post-graduation. I still think that was a good decision, but at the time it left me without knowing what to do next.

In 1987 the economy in the New Orleans area was not very good in general, although there were some improvements happening, and I figure it still lags behind in various ways. For year upon year, New Orleans had been ranked as “America’s Murder Capital”, the city with more annual homicides per capita than any other, sometimes facing stiff competition from Houston and Washington, D.C. Louisiana turned out good people, smart people, and higher education there was not bad. But college graduates were fleeing the state in droves. Not without good reason. Mayor Barthelemy pleaded with educated young people to stay and help the region progress, and rightly so.

In Colorado, I had family, I greatly preferred the climate, I felt the economic future was brighter, in some ways the culture was more exciting, and I felt more alive, inspired, and energetic there. I knew my future was not in Louisiana, even if it meant leaving my friends behind.

Even if my family still lived in the New Orleans area, I am not sure it would have been enough to keep me there. On the other hand, had I never experienced a place like Colorado maybe I would have been content to stay put. I’ll never know. But I have never regretted my decision to leave for even one second.

I visited my old hometown three times over the next several years. The first trip confirmed I had made the right decision, as it got the nostalgia out of my system. The second trip was with my wife to attend my stepsister’s wedding in New Orleans. We went in total tourist mode, something I’d never done, wandering the French Quarter and visiting my old haunts in my hometown and my college town. We enjoyed it, but once again it got something out of my system. I think it was a desire to show my wife some of where I came from, how I was formed and shaped growing up in the Deep South. The final trip was a one-day business trip to set up a booth at an expo on behalf of my employer, and although I had a nice visit with my stepsister and her husband, I was happy to leave in the end. I’m proud of my Southern heritage, and I am grateful to have gotten to grow up where I did. But that’s the past.

That trip with my wife was some 14 years ago or so and we haven’t been back. There are various reasons – we’ve vacationed in other places, and lately there have been extended family matters dominating our plans. We had a good time there and don’t count out a future visit. It’s not a high priority, however.

I seem to be out of step with the rest of my family, and not for the first time. Over the last several years, the members of my immediate family have visited and revisited New Orleans and the surrounding area repeatedly. Some really seem to love the place. I’ve always wondered why there is such fervent affection and devotion. What is the draw? I welcome your comments.

photo credits:
“sidney barthelemy” by unknown
“music new orleans style” by Brenda Anderson
“maroon bells cliche” by august allen

Rock and roll and a simple trade between brothers

My sister had a good record collection by the time she entered college. When she moved out of state, she left all her vinyl LPs to her two younger brothers to split. So my middle brother and I divided the vinyl stack between us. We each ended up with an eclectic mix of music. He’s four and a half years older than I am, and at this time I was quite young – about 11 or 12, I guess. His musical tastes ran a little harder than mine. But we were both satisfied. I received some good stuff, like Frampton Comes Alive!, as well as a number of albums that kind of ended up as mine by default. The latter kind became more interesting, though.

Within a couple of years, my brother was on another of his frequent mini-obsessions. This time it was an early sign of his lifelong affinity for the simple, rustic life of the distant past. The new obsession was Southern Rock. In my stash of records from our sister, I had a few from The Marshall Tucker Band and my brother knew it. He was desperately into the genre and wanted to negotiate a bargain with me.

“Paul, you have those Marshall Tucker albums and I am dying to get my hands on them,” he said. “So I’ll trade you. If you give me your three Marshall Tucker albums, I’ll give you any three albums in my collection. Anything. Just name it.”

Now, I had never listened to those Marshall Tucker records and I didn’t even like the band all that much. Frankly, they were a little more grown-up than where my tastes were at the time. A decade later, I finally started to appreciate them. That’s kind of a pattern with certain music in my life, particularly stuff that was classic before I was ready for it. However, for the first time in my life, I had bargaining power over my middle brother and I wasn’t going to waste it.

“I want your Richard Pryor albums.”

I have never seen such a look of dismay on another person’s face to this day. Immediately, the negotiating began. “Come on,” he said, “anything but those. Pick anything else. You don’t even like Marshall Tucker!”

But he wouldn’t budge and so I wouldn’t, either. I never got Richard Pryor from him and he never got Marshall Tucker from me. A short time later – weeks? months? – his fervor for Southern Rock had cooled drastically, which was not unexpected, and not only did he stop pleading for my records, but also he started to move on to other, newer fascinations. I was stuck with records I didn’t care about, but at least I didn’t give in. And I was pretty pleased about that.

Top 10 Favorite Novas

1. Bossa Nova
2. Aldo Nova
3. Chevy Nova
4. Supernova
5. Nova Scotia
6. NOVA on PBS
7. Villanova
8. Terra Nova
9. Nova from Planet of the Apes
10. Northern Virginia

How to give away 72 pounds of chocolate candy on Halloween

My wife and I are quite generous, like all good Worthingtons. For as long as I can remember, we have given away massive amounts of chocolate candy to trick-or-treaters every Halloween. A few years ago, we added it all up. We hand out over 72 pounds of chocolate candy each and every single Halloween. How do we do it?

First, we had to get two giant Igloo coolers. I fill each cooler all the way up to the top with candy. These coolers are now iconic legends all over this part of town. Every year, when kids ring the bell and I open the door, I am greeted with screams of “cooler guy!!“. It’s pretty hilarious. Ask my friend, Dan Ross, about it. I had him “stand in” for me one year, and people only saw the cooler, not the face of the guy behind the cooler.

As you can see, we only give away the good stuff. All the best and favorite chocolate candies.

• Almond Joy
• Peanut M&Ms
• Plain M&Ms
• Snickers
• Baby Ruth
• Nestle Crunch
• Hershey’s Chocolate
• Kit Kat
• Butterfinger
• Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup (the big ones)

That’s in every bag. So let’s talk about the bags we buy. We always get good deals in bulk from either Wal-mart or Costco. This year, we got 13 big bags. As I emptied them into the coolers this afternoon, I did the numbers.

Each of the 13 bags had a net weight of 5.6 lbs, and 150 pieces of candy each. I put seven bags in one cooler and six bags in the other. The grand total is 72.8 pounds of candy I will give away tonight, or 1,950 individual pieces. Even Elwood can’t believe it.

Now, how does one give away that much candy in one Halloween night? Well, I have to use two hands. For every kid at the door, I scoop my two hands deep into the top cooler and dump at least a dozen pieces into each bucket or bag. You should hear the reactions when the sheer weight of each two-fisted scoop smacks the bottom of the pillow case!

I think Halloween must be my favorite holiday. What do you think? What’s Halloween like where you are? Leave a comment or contact me via email.

Current Status: The trick-or-treaters have only been coming for about 45 minutes, or less, and I’ve already cleared one cooler. That’s roughly 36 lbs. of chocolate candy – almost one piece every minute.

hundred pushups plan updated

As I have noticed, and as my brother noted in his comment on my last hundred pushups post, most people trying the program find it tough to get over the Week 3 hump. Since I am starting over, I returned to the 100 pushups site to look up the details again, and I noticed the plan had changed. If you look at the Week 3 page, you will find a link to the original page (“for a limited time”). And if you compare the two versions, you’ll notice the new and updated plan takes a lower slope than the old one. The guy running the site probably has been getting tons of feedback about how unrealistic parts of it were.

Here are excerpts from both versions, to point out the differences. First, look at the original Week 3 Day 1 numbers.

And here is the updated version. Notice the reps are lower, across the board.

And it’s not just Week 3, either. Even if you start out brand new on Week 1 Day 1, that’s a new plan, too. You’ll find a link to the former Week 1 plan, and you’ll see its numbers are higher.

Let’s see how far I get this time.

StrengthsFinder Part 5 of 6 Analytical

Three states in three nights

Twice in the last year, I’ve spent three consecutive nights in three different states. On one of those trips, it was even three different timezones in three nights. Maybe a different state every night is no big deal for people in the northeast, what with tiny states like Rhode Island and Delaware and whatnot. But out West, it takes a little more effort.

The most recent three state hop was this summer. I flew from Denver to St. Paul, then a coworker and I drove to a Milwaukee suburb to meet with our clients. We spent two nights in Wisconsin, then drove back to St. Paul. We spent one last night there before flying back to Colorado. So that was Tuesday night in Wisconsin, Wednesday night in Minnesota, and Thursday night in Colorado.

The three timezone hop took place in spring. My wife and I were in a Chicago suburb for a short weekend visit to her parents and cousins for an anniversary celebration. That was a good time. We flew back to Denver, and then the next morning I had to fly to Seattle to be back on-site with my client at the time. So that was Saturday night in Illinois on Central Time, Sunday night in Colorado on Mountain Time, and Monday night in Washington on Pacific Time.

Did that jet-setting around throw me off too much? Not really. Partly it’s because I was never going farther away than the next timezone – skipping one or two timezones is when you really start to feel the lag. And partly it’s because I wasn’t in any one place long enough to really know where I was or what time it was supposed to be. Well, it’s more accurate to say the effects caught up with me later, as they always do.

one hundred pushups

I read about this 100-pushup program at my brother’s blog. It’s a methodical program designed to train you over six weeks to able to do 100 pushups without stopping, no matter where you’re starting from. My brother, his wife, and one of their daughters were going to start it in July. Then I read one of my nieces’ blogs and she said she was starting, too. I read all about the plan and it made sense to me. I could also tell it is intended to test the limits of human endurance. Sign me up. :-\

I told my great friend Melinda about it, and she thought it sounded good. She said she’d start, too. I told my wife about it, and she pshawed me, saying, “just because you get good at one exercise, that doesn’t mean you’re strong“. (Disclaimer: my wife pumps iron and is one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, man or woman.) Well, I still liked the idea of trying for it, so I started.

The program begins with an initial test. You do as many good-form pushups as you can, until exhaustion. That tells you what level you’re at, and then you use that along with your age to find the right place in the program for you start.

I did my initial test and got started. I travel a lot for my job, but I kept on doing it even in my hotel room when I was on the road. Basically, you do a certain number of sets of a certain number of reps in sequence every other day for the first two weeks, following the chart at the 100 pushups web site. It’s designed to build you up gradually.

I was impressed with my progression. At the end of two weeks, you do another exhaustion test. The number of non-stop pushups you can do at that point is part of how you determine your path in the next two weeks of the program. After having only been doing the program for two weeks, I was able to triple the number of pushups I could do without stopping.

But I guess the designer of the program overestimated how far the first two weeks would take me. I was keeping right on track – always exceeding the minimum mini-exhaustion sets along the way. The gap between my exhaustion test number and the minimum threshold required for starting week 3 is too big, though. I have actually read this on multiple blogs, too, so it’s not just me. I decided I’d just repeat week 2 (which is the advice at the web site) and see if that got me closer to the week 3 threshold. But I went back into it too hard and started getting a pain in my shoulder. That, and my travel schedule got more intense, which is no fun.

So I fell off-track. Bummer. I will start again this Monday. Melinda’s got her own story to tell, but her experience is very similar to mine – doing pretty well, then up a steep curve, then pain. Since a couple of weeks after first hearing about 100 pushups in July, I haven’t heard anything more from my family members about it. I know one of my nieces in Kansas got into week 4 (I think). Has anybody made it to the end? Can you do 100 pushups without stopping? No? How many can you do?

(That’s one of the official badges from the One Hundred Pushups web site. I don’t like it – there’s no way that’s good form. Look at where her hands are!)

Over six months of Every Week photos

My great friend Melinda Miller and I started a collaborative photography project called Every Week back in February. We each shoot one photo every week and post them side-by-side every Sunday. Starting a project like this is risky, because there are so many times when inspiration doesn’t come right on time, or life intervenes and it would be so easy to just blow off a week. But we are clearly committed to this project. We have now gone 28 weeks without missing a Sunday post. That’s a perfect record for more than six months!

I’ve started a page for every photo in the entire collection, by week, and it’s constantly updated. Here’s what it looks like today. Keep checking that page to see the whole project as our single body of work.

We love to hear from viewers, so feel free to contact me, or leave comments on posts at the Every Week site.

Melinda’s photos are first every week, and are copyright © Melinda Miller, all rights reserved. Mine are second in the lineup every week, and are copyright © Paul Worthington, all rights reserved.

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