Vote for Toby!

WEEK OF AUGUST 27-SEPTEMBER 2, 2002

• BRITISH MEN ARE CHEAP, DRUNK AND STIFF-LIPPED: What we don't like about the New York Times is their unelected writers such as Thomas Friedman and William Safire think that they can dictate foreign policies.  We'll give Paul Krugman a pass since he is at least a professional economist.  What we like about the New York Times is the occasional unexpected wake-up call.
   
  In this Sunday's paper, Sarah Lyall wrote about British men.  In Aussie-speak, this article is a 'beaut.'  One woman wrote: "Since moving to London, my romantic life has been characterized by last-minute text messages, incomprehensible drunkards, first-date coke bingers and split bar tabs."  Describing a series of disastrous dates with a series of disastrous men, none of whom laid even a finger on her, she concluded that most English males suffer from "glaring sexual insecurity" and secretly prefer the company of other men.  And of course this woman is from ... Canada!  Not that this was an isolated case, as some celebrities weighed in.  
   
  Gwyneth Paltrow: "British people don't seem to ask each other on dates.  If someone asks you, they're going out on a limb, whereas in America it happens all the time. Someone will come up to you and ask you for dinner and you'll say, 'Sure.'  It's no big deal and no weight will be attached to it.  It's only dinner, for God's sake."  
   
  Heather Graham: "When it comes to their emotions, British men are of the stiff-upper-lip school of thought - you never know what they're feeling."
   
  Cindy Blake: "There's a nervousness about being with women.  There's a feeling men have that women are going to ruin their fun and their lives and chain them indoors, and make them do things they don't want to do, and not let them do things they do want to do.  The idea of being alone with a woman is too scary because then they might have to deal - or to talk about themselves."
   
  So, here is our question --- Does this explain why our club is disproportionately populated with so many Brits?
    

• AUGUST WEB VISITOR LOG REPORT: Either (1) not everyone followed their psycho-analysts to Martha's Vineyard or the Hamptons, or (2) most runners are not under psycho-analysis like they should be.  We had the best month of our lives and, on an annualized basis, we are a 4,000,000 hit website, with 600,000 page views, 144,000 home page visits and 100 gigabytes of bandwidth.  Furthermore, this is not push technology where we forced the content onto people without choice --- it was their choice to gobble it up.
   
  There are some large multipliers involved here.  First, we had 69 finishers in the Club Team Championships, but the corresponding photo album page was seen 775 times.  Then we had maybe 50 people at the softball game afterwards, but the corresponding page was seen 363 times.  Finally, here is the best statistic --- the application form was downloaded 77 times, which should make our treasurer very happy.
     

• HISTORY LESSONS:  Just as a matter of curiosity, we went back and looked up the results for the 1997 Club Team Championships.  Five years ago, the men and women both finished in fifth place.  In 2002, only Alan Ruben and Peter Allen were in the scoring again.  Names like Toby Tanser, Jonathan Pillow, Craig Chilton, Erik Goetze, Margaret Angell, Alayne Adams, Audrey Kingsley, ... have not even appeared yet.  If we compare our 2002 and 1997 men's teams, we are deeper now with 11 (compared to 5) runners under 28 minutes.

1997 MEN, 5th place open team

Overall Place	Age Place	Name	Age	Finish Time	Minute/Mile
34	3	Alan Ruben	40	26:39	5:19
40	17	Hank Berkowitz	35	26:56	5:23
47	22	Peter Allen	35	27:06	5:25
63	32	Ramon Bermo	30	27:37	5:31
66	34	Richard Joseph	34	27:39	5:31
91	48	Casey Yamazaki	34	28:12	5:38
99	53	Jud Santos	33	28:25	5:41
103	55	Brian Marchese	30	28:28	5:41
118	64	Michael Garland	34	28:56	5:47
123	68	Larry Glazer	35	29:05	5:49

1997 WOMEN, 5th place open team

Overall Place	Age Place	Name	Age	Finish Time	Minute/Mile
13	10	Rachel Latessa	34	30:32	6:06(PR)
14	11	Stephanie Gould	31	30:37	6:07(PR)
37	20	Stacy Creamer	37	32:21	6:28
39	5	Sarah Gross	40	32:22	6:28(PR)
44	25	Jacqueline Cortes	35	32:41	6:32

We are mindful that these things are cyclical in nature.  If we peek back to ten years ago, we have these scorers, with Alan Ruben the only one to score again ten years later.  

1992 MEN, 4th place open team

1. Fred Schuler, 25:31, 7th overall

2. Alan Ruben, 26:26

3. Roane Carey, 26:26

4. Rick Pieschel, 26:45, 1st masters

5. Andreas Nolte, 27:11

6. Tim Robinson, 27:16

7. Jon Weilbaker, 27:19

8. Julio Toral, 27:26

9. Ricardo Granados, 27:30

10. Gene Meyer, 27:39

1992 WOMEN, 2nd place open team

1. Candace Strobach, 28:16, 1st overall

2. Claudia Malley (neé Porfilio), 29:57

3. Laurie Jones, 32:00

4. Jane Ellen Hickey, 32:25

5. Stephanie Gobbo, 32:39

In 1992, we had 12 men runners under 28 minutes (add Hank Berkowitz and Rick Shaver to that list) and we finished in the same fourth place as the 2002 team.  The point here is that the Central Park Track Club is a dynamic organization whose membership is always in flux.  People come and people go all the time.  There will be some good years (e.g. in the mid-1980's, the aveage time of our top 10 runners was just over 25 minutes for five miles), and there will also be some lean years.  The important thing is to have the institutional strength to endure (PEP = Patience, Enthusiasm and Persistence).

A better indicator of the state of the club is the number of finishers --- on the men's side, the numbers were 47, 30 and 39 in 2002, 1997 and 1992; on the women's side, the numbers were 22, 11 and 15.  We are now a deeper and faster team than five years ago, and we have the institutional mechanisms (yes, this web page is one of those things) to attract more people.

• MEMORIAL VAN DAMME MEET:  The two results of interest to us are that both Ana Guevara and Felix Sánchez won and remain in contention for those kilos of gold.  Only the Berlin meet is left.  You can read about the other results yourself, as our Latin American sponsors do not oblige us to mention anyone else.

• MISERY LOVES COMPANY?:  We read with some dismay that the University of Missouri-Rolla was reported by the Princeton Review as the school with the 'least happy students.'  Now we have never been to Rolla and we don't know anyone from there.  So what do we care?
   
  Our affection for the University of Missouri-Rolla goes back to November 2001 and December 2001, when the University of Missouri-Rolla crashed into our list of top thirty most frequent visitors, right up there with the Morgan Stanley's, J.P. Morgan's and McGraw-Hill's.  Someone had logged in from the university library and browsed through our entire website.  Any speculation between the misery and us is precisely that --- speculative.
    

• THE HERMENEUTICAL RUNNING CLUB: Question: "What is this thing about being the first self-proclaimed hermeneutical running club?"
   
  It is accepted by many that graduate students are forced to read much that will never ever be used again.  We regard this as a total lack of imagination about the applicability of knowledge.  Like many graduate students, we were forced to thumb through, among other things, Hans-Georg Gadamer's Wahrheit und Methode, and then we spend the rest of our lives trying to find relevance.  And relevance was everywhere to be found.  Gadamer is best known for philosophical hermeneutics.  Here is an explanation: 

Understanding is bound and embedded in history because understanding deploys the knower's effective-history, personal experience and cultural traditions, to assimilate new experiences. Thus, the initial structure of an effective-history constrains the range of possible interpretations, excluding some possibilities and calling forth others. As effective-history constitutes the prejudices brought to bear in understanding, it simultaneously and dialectically limits any self-conscious attempts to dissolve those prejudices. Gadamer thus explicitly opposes the scientific ideal of prejudiceless objectivity in interpretation. In this respect, he moves beyond Heidegger, who regarded so-called scientific objectivity as a derivative of existential understanding. Gadamer does not deny the importance of either scientific understanding or critical interpretation, a form of interpretation that introspectively questions assumptions unreflectively inherited from cultural traditions. His focus on the human context of knowledge emphasizes the need for repeated attempts at critical understanding, through which people can gain the insight needed to correct their prejudices. But, if prejudices may be individually overcome, their fact is inescapable. It imposes a priori limitations on the extent to which a self-reflective methodology can eliminate distortions from scientific inquiry. The critical self-consciousness of a rational agent who introspectively questions received traditions may counter distorting consequences of effective-history, but it at best only leads to successive approximations of objectivity.

The question originally came up about how a new visitor is supposed to comprehend Central Park.  There is an objective Central Park out there, which is encapsulated by the rocks, roads, trails, trees, grass, plants, birds, water bodies, monuments, lampposts, softball fields, zoos, theaters, rinks, row boats, etc.  Each person will approach these objective data based upon his/her own 'effective history, personal experience and cultural traditions.'  For example, runners, birdwatchers and soccer players will probably have very different priorities and perceptions.  These 'prejudices' lead to different subjective appreciations and understandings of Central Park, all of which are valid because there is no such thing as one single scientifically objective and universal understanding.  

What is more important is that people can enrich their understanding through new information and interpretations.  Such knowledge could be as mundane as, "Where do the park rangers conceal themselves in the bushes so that they can surprise you with a fine?"  Or it may be a historical fact, such as the Hamilton statue which took Frank Handelman thirty years of running in the park before he 'discovered' it at a workout.  So we suggest that you treat every excursion in Central Park as an occasion to discover fresh insight and new revelations, and every new insight is bound to modify and enhance your previous knowledge.

Acknowledgement:  Priority for this way of approaching Central Park must be given to Stuart Calderwood.  It seems that every time that he gives a workout, we get a geo-social-cultural-historical lesson. 

• MORE TOBY TANSER ENDORSEMENTS:  
   
  (1) Dan Capiello (The Reservoir Dogs): "By now everyone should have received their NYRRC proxy form to vote for the board of directors. Most of you will recognize a name on that list - Toby Tanser.  He is running for the board of directors and will be great for NY running if elected.  Obviously Toby knows the running scene in NY and as such can make changes that are beneficial to us - the runners.  He has helped many of us achieve our personal goals and can make a difference to all runners in this position.  I urge you all to vote for him.  Rarely do I try to persuade anyone's opinion, but I do feel strongly that Toby can make a difference if elected."
    
   (2) Ramon Bermo (Team In Training): "Those of you that are members of the NYRRC will be getting or already gotten a proxy for the election of NYRRC board of directors. A good friend of mine, Toby Tanser, is running (no pun intended) and I urge you to vote for him and not just because he is my friend (most of you probably know him as well from seeing him in the park,).  Anyway, he is a runner that can bring great things to the organization.  I could give many reasons why you should vote for him, but I don't want you to spend your day reading when you could be running. Just trust me, if you want things to improve in the running community, he is a person that can do that. And if you are still not convinced, just do it as favor to me!"
   
  Just bear in mind that the NYRRC annual meeting will be held on September 23rd, and your proxy form should be mailed in before then.  The envelope is postage-paid, so all you have to do is check the boxes, sign your name, write in the date, put the form in the envelope, seal the envelope and drop it in a mailbox.  Easy as pie.
   

• NOT SO FAMOUS SAYING:  Well, we will just have to make sure that this one does not make it to the permanent archives of famous sayings: "Hi, I want to tell you how much I enjoy re-reading some of your stuff now and again, especially the workout reports and the food reviews, because they remind me of how retarded you can be.  That was a compliment, in case you don't get it."  Well, buddy, you have a nice day too!
    

• A SUMMER PAST:  As Labor Day approaches, we are thinking of a past summer.  Not the summer of 2002, but the summer of 1915 in Knoxville, Tennessee.  That summer was the subject of the short autobiographical piece by James Agee, which has become one of the most famous piece of American prose:

We are talking now of summer evenings in Knoxville Tennessee in that time that I lived there so successfully disguised to myself as a child.

... It has become that time of evening when people sit on their porches, rocking gently and talking gently and watching the street and the standing up into their sphere of possession of the tress, of birds' hung havens, hangars.  People go by; things go by.  A horse, drawing a buggy, breaking his hollow iron music on the asphalt: a loud auto: a quiet auto: people in pairs, not in a hurry, scuffling, switching their weight of aestival body, talking casually, the taste hovering over them of vanilla, strawberry, pasteboard, and starched milk, the image upon them of lovers and horsemen, squared with clowns in hueless amber.  A streetcar raising its iron moan; stopping; belling and starting, stertorous; rousing and raising again its iron increasing moan and swimming its gold windows and straw seats on past and past and past, the bleak spark crackling and cursing above it like a small malignant spirit set to dog its tracks; the iron whine rises on rising speed; still risen, faints; halts; the faint stinging bell; rises again, still fainter; fainting, lifting, lifts, faints foregone: forgotten.  Now is the night one blue dew.

Now is the night one blue dew, my father has drained, he has coiled the hose.

Low on the length of lawns, a frailing of  fire who breathes...

Parents on porches: rock and rock.  From damp strings morning glories hang their ancient faces.

The dry and exalted noise of the locusts from all the air at once enchants my eardrums.

On the rough wet grass of the back yard my father and mother have spread quilts. We all lie there, my mother, my father, my uncle, my aunt, and I too am lying there... They are not talking much, and the talk is quiet, of nothing particular, of nothing at all in particular, of nothing at all.  The stars are wide and alive, they seem each like a smile of great sweetness, and they seem very near.  All my people are larger bodies than mine, ... with voices gentle and meaningless like the voices of sleeping birds.  One is an artist, he is living at home.  One is a musician, she is living at home.  One is my mother who is good to me.  By some chance, here they are, all on this earth; and who shall ever tell the sorrow of being on this earth lying on quilts, on the grass, in a summer evening, among the sounds of the night. May God bless my people, my uncle, my aunt, my mother, my good father, oh, remember them kindly in their time of trouble; and in the of hour of their taking away.

After a little I am taken in and put to bed.  Sleep, soft smiling, draws me unto her; and those receive me, who quietly treat me, as one familiar and well-beloved in that home; but will not, oh, will not, not now, not ever; but will not ever tell me who I am.

P.S.  For those who prefer to read this in Icelandic, we have found a translation.

The reputation of this piece of prose was no doubt enhanced by the fact that it was set to music by Samuel Barber.  It is difficult to assess the canonical performances of this song by Eleanor Steber and Leontyne Price due to the recording quality in their times.  The best contemporary recording that we recommend is by Dawn Upshaw, followed by Kathleen Battle.  This is an amazing piece of music because it is difficult to think of a piece of prose being set to music so seamlessly.
 
We think of the kind of summer described by Agee as being a mostly passé culture nowadays, certainly in New York City.  Who amongst us have a porch?  In fact, we are lucky to even have a window view.  Certainly very few people sit outside watching the stars, as they would rather be rushing around with cellular phones stuck to their ears, or watching television in their air-conditioned rooms.

Nevertheless, we can say this about summer in New York City ---

It has become that time of evening when we meet to run in Central Park.  We are not talking much, and the talk is quiet, of nothing particular, of nothing at all in particular, of nothing at all.  One is a lawyer, he has lived in New York City for thirty years.  One is a teacher, she has just moved here.  One is our coach, who is good to us.  By some chance, here they are, all on this earth; and who shall ever tell the sorrow of being on this earth as we run along the roads, in a summer evening, among the sounds of the night.  May God bless my people, oh, remember them kindly in their time of trouble; and in the hour of their taking away ...

We are not the first ones to misappropriate the Agee prose, as this parody titled Knoxville: Summer 1998 by Jack Neely is famous too:

We are talking now of summer evenings in Knoxville, Tennessee, as I knew them when I was so successfully disguised as a Talented And Gifted elementary-school student with a mild manifestation of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.

It was a middle-class cul-de-sac; the houses of brick and vinyl siding all looked from a distance like grand Gothic cathedrals and up close more or less like trailers. Around the houses were softwooded trees, mostly Bradford pears, most of them planted last month, but some of them almost three months old. There were invisible fences, marked with little plastic white flags, around the yards to keep in the Dalmatians and other dogs that we had seen in the movies, but they did not keep them in. The dogs would charge at the flags of the invisible fence and make a single cry of unmuted anguish combined with a weird ecstasy, surely aware somewhere within their feral crania of the paradox of their pain and pleasure arriving at once, and then be gone for the evening; they would return only to eat dog food from the no-tip plastic bowls marked with the names by which they were known. Because it was a cul-de-sac, as the real-estate agent told us all the safest middle-class neighborhoods were, the people we did not recognize were the people who did not belong here and should go somewhere else soon.  On the cell phone he held in the yard, my father would call 911 and describe to the police the people he did not know.

The men were mostly small businessmen, one or two very modestly executives, many of them clerical, and most of them between 30 and 45. They stood in their yards with their hoses and cell phones, but mostly with their cell phones.

But it is of these evenings I speak.  Supper was at 6:00 and was over at half past, especially when there wasn't a line at the drive-thru. My mother would get the fajitas, my father would get the nachos grande, and I would get the seven-layer burrito deluxe, which had a toy Godzilla in a sealed plastic sleeve.  We would always be together at supper, strapped safely into the car.

There was still daylight, shining softly and with a tarnish, like the lining of polyester swimtrunks.  In the twilight stood the fathers in T-shirts that have words on them, some words alluding to the heroes of sport, some words which were overtly sexual, some words which were merely suggestive, in what they believed to be good taste; they would appear one by one, holding cell phones and plastic spray bottles of Roundup, the hueless fluid with its promise of no mercy and no pity, no, not ever; and they squirt the dandelions and clover and violets until they shrivel in grey submission; at length there are only four plant species left surviving in our lawn, now only three species, now only two, now only one.  Now is the night of one blue fescue.

There are locusts whirring in the trees, though now they are called cicadas, and they and most of the insects are silent because they are dead. There are not many fireflies because in the days when there were fireflies the children would catch them and put them in a jar and freeze them by the hundreds until they stop moving, and then they send them to Oak Ridge for good money.

The children, most of them well-fed and plump, run or, mostly, lumber, yelling those names by which they were known, but mostly on these summer evenings they would run within the house, across the cool carpets of the house, between the various rooms of the house, between the big-screen TV in the recreation room and the computer in the breakfast nook where they played Bludgeonmaster and Lasertron and Gorefest 2000. They emerge from the house mainly when it has come the time of evening that we climb into the minivan to go to the soccer game.

It is not of the games children play in the evening that I want to speak now but of their parents who yell at them while they play. They are all there, my mother, my father, my uncle, my aunt.  All my people are larger bodies than mine, with voices meaningless and stertorous like the voices of large predatory birds.  One is my mother who is yelling at me.  One is my father who is yelling at me.  One is a computer graphics animator; she is yelling at me; one is a telemarketer; he is yelling at me.  By some chance, here they are, all on this soccer field on quilts in the grass, yelling at me.  And who shall ever tell the sorrow of being on this field, running as they watch in the lined grass among the loud sounds of night.

May God bless my people and remember them kindly in our hour of loss, 13-0, and hasten the hour of our driving away.

At home, in the driveway, we unbuckled and disembarked from the minivan which held our hopes and dreams and darkest fears; on the blacktop streets beyond the mailbox there was a loud auto, and a quiet auto, then another loud auto, then a really loud auto; then a loud, throbbing auto; then some more loud autos, then a tractor trailer rig, then some minivans, then another loud auto, then some more really, really loud autos, then a jeep full of well-fed white boys listening to gangsta rap.

Back at home, in the yard, there were no people at all.  The sounds of night were the sounds of the air conditioners that were attached to the houses, installed on concrete slabs next to the houses.  Chiefly, the air conditioners were set much alike, in a compromise between very cold and chilly (and quite surely a sense of art behind this compromise), and the sounds therefore were pitched much alike, something between a whir and a hush, with the occasional clatter of a deviant fan blade.

And from the big jeeps, aestival chariots, the beefy freshmen in tank tops and backwards caps drive to the sound of loud rap, each beefy warrior identical to the next, each jeep-chariot identical to the next, each throbbing song identical to the next; there is never one rapper or one jeep full of white boys listening to rappers, but an illusion of at least a thousand jeeps, a thousand rappers, and a thousand beefy white boys alike; the noise of each rapper is pitched in some classic rapper range out of which none of them varies more than two full tones-and yet you seem to hear each rapper discrete from all the rest.  They are all around, from every street and every jeep, so that the noise seems to come from nowhere and everywhere at once, shivering in your eardrums and teasing your groin, the boldest of all sounds of night, its throbbing exalted not by man or by the dark sky itself but by a powerful Bazooka amplifier.  And yet gangsta rap is habitual to summer nights and is one of the great gangsta order of noises, like the noises of transformers blowing in an electrical storm and of dental drills and of shovels on asphalt.

But we did not spread our quilts on the lawn on those evenings, to prevent soaking them with the poisons of the lawn.  Now, we spread our blankets inside, where it is chilly, and it has come that time of the evening when we watch COPS and Hard Copy and the rerun of Seinfeld-the one where everyone thinks Seinfeld is gay, then a rerun of Coach, the one where everyone thinks Coach is gay, then a rerun of Frasier, the one where everyone thinks Frasier is gay. Then comes Friends, the one where everyone thinks the Friends are gay.  Then they would plug in a video: Diehard, as was their choice on most of the nights of the summer, or Scream, or perhaps Terminator II; most of what we watch on TV, most of what we do, most of what we wear, most of what we listen to on these summer evenings, is to prove that we are not gay, that none of our people will believe we are gay, no, not ever; and that we will not, oh will not ever see ourselves in a sitcom, for they never, no never, make sitcoms about people who spend their summer evenings watching TV, and when we are watching we know that we are safe and unembarrassed by those who would think us gay.

Outside the vinyl bay windows, people go by, things go by, people in pairs, not in a hurry; we call the police.

Then, when the videos have been snapped away safely in their plastic coffins, comes the time of the night that we retire to the dark solitude of our bedrooms and surf the Internet. In the secret glow of the screen, we spend hours in the chat rooms, looking for something interesting that we do not find, something but nothing in particular, something of nothing.

The Internet, softly smiling, draws me to her; and those who receive my E-mail are those who quietly treat me as one familiar and well-beloved in that Web site and ask for my address and phone number and the name of my elementary school: but will not, oh will not, not now, not ever; but will not ever tell me their real names.

• EYESIGHT COMPLAINT:  From a member of the Central Park Triathlon Club: "Either you are blind, or else you are doing a massive cover-up job, because you failed to report that Tony Ruiz was wearing an Ironman Championship t-shirt at the Thursday road workout.  Sooner or later, the Dark Side will get all of you!"
   

• ENCYCLOPEDIA BRITANNICA: From Charles Allard Jr.: "I am in awe at the Journal portion of the web site these days.  If you ever lose your day job, you can use this web site as a resumé when you apply for your job as a writer for the Encyclopedia Britannica."  Are you sure you got that right? --- we think that we would have to make sure that we don't include this website on our resumé ...
   

• COMPLAINING ABOUT A COMPLAINT: "David Smith asked the rhetorical question: 'Maybe Stacy (Creamer)  really is a covert triathlete with a cupboard full of hardware!!...'  Well, EVERYBODY and ANYBODY who pays attention to this website must know from Stuart Calderwood's 2001 Surprise Party that Stacy's trophies are displayed on a shrine in her dining room, and not locked up in some cupboard."
    

• THURSDAY ROAD WORKOUT REPORT: One weather report had a prediction of one inch of rainfall in the evening (note: the final official total was 2.65 inches for the whole day).  But we had stated explicitly that this workout will not be cancelled due to rain, so the show went on with forty-seven people at the start of the workout.  As it turned out, there was just a very light drizzle during the workout, with a cooling effect no less.  It was even more astonishing to see so many people just hang out AFTER the workout in that drizzle.  
   
  Among the count was a visitor from Sacramento, running in Central Park with a map in his hand.  "Can I join you?"  "Of course!"  Our road workouts are open to the public.  And the good thing is that even if you don't know how to get around, we promise you that we will deposit you back at the start (namely, the Daniel Webster statue at the corner of 72nd Street and West Drive).  As T.S Elliot wrote in Little Gidding (Four Quartets) (1943):

We shall not cease from exploration 
And the end of all our exploring 
Will be to arrive where we started 
And know the place for the first time.

Yes, we lay claim to be the first self-proclaimed hermeneutical running club in the world.   There may be other clubs who do similar things, but we must surely be the first ones to position it that way.

At last weekend's New York City Marathon Tune-Up (18 miles), we were led by the usual suspects (Craig Chilton, Kevan Huston, Toby Tanser, etc).  But the coach wanted to highlight the fact that Brad Weiss (aka "Mr Walkman") averaged 6:37 min/mile pace.  By contrast, Bola Awofeso did not receive any congratulations for completing that race.  Instead, all he got was comments like "I can't believe that you can run that far."  The point is that if you wish to be praised, you should not be lowering people's expectations by saying things like "I'm injured so badly that I can't even walk ..."

This workout is an out-and-back route with the 'out' portion at half-marathon pace and the 'back' portion at 10 mile pace.  So what was the explanation of that 8:30 minute first mile?  "We wanted to be absolutely sure that we run a negative split!"

One major benefit with the rain (or the threat of rain) was that we did not find anyone jumping out of the bushes to scream at us tonight.  Or maybe the guy is vacationing in Spain, where the weather must be a lot nicer.  A good hint was that he did not compete in the Central Park Triathlon, in which his two other co-coaches who couldn't run finished in the top ten.

• STEEPLECHASER TESTS POSITIVE:  Moroccan Brahim Boulami had just taken the world record down by two seconds two weeks ago, thereby making the definitive statement that the Kenyans no longer own this event.  Now, his A blood-urine sample from that meet has tested positive for EPO.  If the B sample also tests positive, Boulami will suffer ignominy.  If the B sample does not test positive, his record will be tainted by suspicion.  Either way, he loses and the sport loses.  This is not good.
   

• WEATHER FORECAST:  Bad is the word, with heavy rains and temperature in the '60s on Thursday.  Generally, the Labor Day weekend will be wet.  The Thursday road workout will be a gut check --- it will not be cancelled, and so only the true orange will show up.  Are you one of them?
    

• MORE BRILLIANT ORANGE: "In the hot summer of 1975 Wim Van Hanegem was offered the chance to leave his beloved Feyenoord and join the French club Olympique Marseille for a large amount of money.  He couldn't decide what to do, so he went to an island in Zeeland to talk it over with his wife, Truus, his best friend (and fellow midfielder) Wim Jansen, and Jansen's wife.  The four of them took a picnic to the beach and mulled over the pros and cons for hours.  Finally, Van Hanegem called for a show of hands: two votes to go, two to stay.  So he turned to his dog: 'We can't decide.  It's up to you now.  If you want to go to Marseille, bark or show me.'  For several minutes the dog and Van Hanegem stared at each other.  The dog didn't move.  'OK,' said Wim, 'he doesn't want to go. We're staying.'"
   

• YET ANOTHER NATIONAL ANTHEM:  The words to the national anthem of China are:
   
  
   
  Ah, we forget, you are probably having problems read this?  Here is the English translation ( audio )
   
  The March of the Volunteer Army
  
  Arise,
  Ye who refuse to be slaves! 
  With our very flesh and blood, 
  Let us build our new Great Wall! 
  The peoples of China are in the most critical time, 
  Everybody must roar his defiance. 
  Arise!
  Arise! 
  Arise! 
  Millions of hearts with one mind, 
  Brave the enemy's gunfire, March on! 
  Brave the enemy's gunfire, March on! 
  March on!
  March on! 
  on!
   
  With due respect, this is pretty boring and unmemorable stuff, in terms of the words as well as the music.  Fortunately, the Chinese have several other unofficial anthems that are infinitely more exciting and stirring.  This situation is very much like the people's choices Land of Hope and Glory, Jerusalem or Rule Britannia for England, Waltzing Matilda for Australia and Va Pensiero for Italy.  In the USA, there are people who prefer the ballad-like America The Beautiful, the folksong-like American Anthem, the gospel-hymn like God Bless America or the up-tempo Stars and Stripes Forever.  The top three on our Chinese hit parade are listed as follows.  (Tip: Ignore those words!  Historical materialism will demand that the words be revised eventually)
  
  (1) THREE RULES OF DISCIPLINE AND EIGHT POINTS FOR ATTENTION (mov; sorry, we couldn't find any MP3's)

  Note: Sorry, but we don't have the exact words used in the song.  But the song is based upon Chairman Mao's Selected Military Writings: "On the Reissue of the Three Main Rules of Discipline and the Eight Points for Attention - Instruction of the General Headquarters of the Chinese People's Liberation Army" (October 10, 1947), which we list below.  These rules and points were later adopted by the Black Panthers in the USA.  We also regret that we were unable to locate the rock-music version of this song (and it rocks!), so you will have to imagine what wonders a wailing guitar could have worked on these totally unusable lyrics.

  The Three Main Rules of Discipline are as follows:
  (1) Obey orders in all your actions.
  (2) Do not take a single needle piece of thread from the masses.
  (3) Turn in everything captured.

  The Eight Points for Attention are as follows:
  (1) Speak politely.
  (2) Pay fairly for what you buy.
  (3) Return everything you borrow.
  (4) Pay for anything you damage.
  (5) Do not hit or swear at people.
  (6) Do not damage crops.
  (7) Do not take liberties with women.
  (8) Do not ill-treat captives.
   
  (2) THE EAST IS RED (mp3)

  Note: Like the Japanese national anthem, this one is solemn with a tinge of sadness.  And then you may well ask: What is the origin of this music vis-à-vis Giacomo Puccini?  Did this music exist before Puccini, who was then inspired to compose Madama Butterfly and Turandot?  Or could it be the other way around as these songs were composed because Puccini set the template?
   
  The east is red,
  The sun is rising.
  China has brought forth a Mao Zedong.
  He works for the people's happiness,
  hu erh hai ya,
  He is the people's great saving star.

  Chairman Mao loves the people,
  Chairman Mao, he is our guide.
  To build a new China,
  hu erh hai ya,
  He leads us forever forward.

  The Communist Party is like the sun,
  Bringing light wherever is shines.
  Where there's the Communist Party,
  hu erh hai ya,
  There the people will win liberation.
   
  (3)  SAILING THE SEAS DEPENDS ON THE HELMSMAN (mp3)

  Note: This is actually much better as an up-tempo brass band music piece.

  Sailing the seas depends on the helmsman,
  Life and growth depend on the sun.
  Rain and dew drops nourish the crops,
  Making revolution depends on Mao Zedong Thought.
  Fish can't leave the water,
  Nor melons leave the vine.

  The revolutionary masses can't do without the Communist Party.
  Mao Zedong Thought is the sun
  That forever shines.
   
  And now we will sit back and wait for the complaints to pour in about this gross misuse of the web space.  If at first people complained about the liberalism implied in our publishing of the Canadian national anthem, we can imagine what they have to say about the hard-core Marxism-Leninism-Stalinism-Maoism here.  Well, we're paying the bill and you're not ... so, there you have it!
   

• SHOPPING SPREES:  Recently, all sorts of people are going on rampages --- someone bought all the novels of China Mieville, someone else bought all 6 CDs by Jaci Velasquez and then somebody bought a vacuum cleaner.  Do you need anything?  Here, we are waiting for the big commission checks that will permit us to retire and concentrate on running ...
   

• MORE ON ANN COULTER:  From the St. Petersburg Times: To prove that liberals "babble on and on about the 'heady' days of civil rights marches," Coulter claims that between 1995 and 2001, the New York Times ran more than 100 articles on "Selma" alone. "I believe we may have revisited this triumph of theirs sufficiently by now," she quips.  Tapped, however, did its own LexisNexis search for Selma and came up with 776 hits -- "424 were death notices, 18 were wedding announcements, 25 were other sorts of paid notices, five were in photo captions, and 234 were either: a) contents listings; b) people with the name Selma; c) references to Selma, California; or d) references to Selma, Ala., that had nothing to do with civil rights."  Of the 70 remaining, Tapped said only 16 were centrally concerned with Selma's civil rights history.
    

• TOBY GET'S THE QUEEN'S ENDORSEMENT: From Diane ("Queen of the Harriers") Kenna: "You can't spell New York Road Running without Toby Tanser. Well okay, you actually can but that's beside the point. Toby has, in just a few years, made quite an impact on the local running scene.  His exceptional talent, commitment to the sport and individuality (have you seen some of those outfits?!) make him uniquely qualified to serve on the Board of Directors of the New York Road Runners club.

  In a sport which is quite often overlooked by local and international media, it is refreshing to meet someone with so much knowledge, enthusiasm and appreciation for running. Toby is a wealth of information regarding runner statistics and race results. His writing is informative, entertaining and inspiring. He has been able to immerse himself in the running community, befriending local teams, elite athletes and novices alike. His coaching is top-notch and he motivates runners of all abilities to strive toward the highest level of achievement. Toby's work with beginner runners through the NIKE Run NYC clinics and other volunteer clinics is a wonderful boost for our sport. He can take a beginner runner and turn them into a running addict overnight.

  From his international running experience, Toby has been a member in many running clubs throughout the world. This provides him a unique insight into what can make a successful running organization.  I think Toby would be a refreshing addition to the Board, able to come up with creative, practical solutions to some of the problems facing our club, while maintaining the love and enthusiasm for the sport that is inspirational to us all."
   

• TUESDAY TRACK WORKOUT REPORT:  Nice warm, dry evening, just ideal for a speed workout.  Sixty-two people were allegedly at the start of the workout.  The exact circumstances of the derivation of the attendance number were recorded in the following:
   
  Frank Handelman: "How many people were at the workout tonight?"
  Official score keeper: "You asking me?  Do you think I actually count the people?  Do you think I'm crazy!?  Oh, why don't we ask Paul Bendich, who is a mathematician and must therefore know how to count?"
  Paul Bendich:  "I regret to say that my union rules does not allow me to dabble in irrational numbers or countably infinite sets ..."
  Official score keeper: "Fair enough.  So, Frank, what's a good number?  How about sixty-two?  You like it?"
  Frank Handelman: "Yeah, that sounds good."  
  And so it was ...
    
  A promising sign about this workout is that both the C and D groups were led by new serious-looking fast women.  We are adding even more depth to the team!
   
  Missing from the count is Audrey Kingsley, who showed up at 7:59:27pm according to the official workout watch.  Although she argued that she was 'within the hour,' we have to abide by our workout headcount rules.  Of course, it will have no doubt come to your notice that showing up late does in fact get your name mentioned as compared to the anonymity of the mass humanity of on-time arrivers.
   
  Since our self-appointed official photographer was present today, we thought that we would document the current state of détente between the soccer players and the runners.

Identification tip: Members of the Board of Education are identifiable by their suntans ... James Siegel, Kevin Arlyck, Joe Tumbarello, Laura Lee Carter, ...
 
Special Request: (name withheld): "Will someone please burn Harry Lichenstein's bright red shorts?"
 
Old Friends:  At the Annapolis 10 Miler in Maryland, a stranger approached Jerome O'Shaughnessy and asked: "How is Tony Ruiz?  How is Sid Howard?  And how is the guy who does the website?"  That stranger was Maryland resident Dr. John Taylor, a long-time member of the Central Park Triathlon Club (note: that means the triathlete sub-division of the Central Park Track Club --- and what did you think www.centralparktc.org really stands for?).
 
Complaint Department: David Smith protests about the self-deprecating characterization by Stacy Creamer of her own allegedly non-existent triathlon career: "Stacy came second in Doug Stern's Highland Sprint Triathlon in 2000 (handily passing my wife Lauren Eckhart 500 yards from the finish), causing Lauren and I both to befriend Stuart and Stacy ('Who was that woman who passed me like I was standing still?!?!').  Maybe Stacy really is a covert triathlete with a cupboard full of hardware!!..."
 
Complaint Department:  Stéphane Bois: "You have printed the words to all sorts of national anthems?  What about the French national anthem?"  Well, we have to demur because we would surely lose our family-friendly, non-violent rating if we do so ("Qu'un sang impur abreuve nos sillons" !!!???).

Complaint Department:  Fred Trilli: "My wife says that you take terrible-looking pictures of me!  In all of them, I look like I am in great pain.  How is she supposed to take any one of them to the office?"

Complaint Department:  "Hey, coach Tony, I thought you always tell us not to race at the end of the workout.  What was that last mile that you just ran?  Is this one of those coaches' prerogatives:  'Do as I tell you but not as I do' deal'"

Complaint Department:  "It is dark at the end of the workout!"  What do you expect  us to do about it?

Complaint Department:  "Why are there no more pictures of Kim Mannen this week?  You have been doing that every week!"  Yeah?  Is that all?  And we thought you had a tough complaint call ...

Kim Mannen and her personal bodyguard
 
Complaint Department: "The website published Two Boots as being located at 5th Street and Avenue A.  Well, 3rd Street is more like it!"

Expectations Department: Andrea Costella: "I expect that when I go to the website tomorrow morning, I will see a picture of me eating pizza."

Post-workout Social P/L Statement:  Prior to the workout, we posted an important message about previous problems with people not leaving sufficient funds to cover the bill.  Well, that message worked far too well, as we ran a massive budget surplus today.  We should be put in charge of the US Treasury!  A few more outings like this, Sid Howard will be ready to retire from work and concentrate on running.

Photo Album:  Yes, we have one!

• BRAZILIAN SOCCER P/L STATEMENT:  Covering major sports events is a major risk for television broadcasters.  The television rights have to be bid years in advance, without knowing the participants.  Imagine if you bid for a World Cup game and your country's team got knocked out in the first round.  Or, in the case of the Olympics, it would be prudent to take out a lot of insurance against boycotts and terrorism.  This year, Brazil won the World Cup while gathering astronomical television audience ratings for TV Globo.  You would think this is the perfect script, but the final book from TV Globo says they had a net loss of $100 million US dollars.  In this case, TV Globo may have no choice because they are the leading television network in Brazil and cannot afford to let another network take the lead on this prestigious event.  But it does demonstrate the high risks involved in such enterprises.
   
  The point is this --- if someone tells you that it will be a GOOD thing to have the 2012 Olympics in New York City, do not blindly accept that!  Show us!  We are from Missouri!  Meanwhile, the latest news is that San Francisco and New York City are the two finalists chosen by the USOC to bid for the 2012 Olympics.
    

• CLICK CLICK:  Online spyware company DoubleClick Inc. has settled with the attorney generals of 10 states about business practices:  Who the hell is DoubleClick?  "The New York City-based company, which sells its services to advertisers and major Internet sites, deposited unique 'cookie' files on a user's computer that tracked the machine's online travels, allowing the company to display Web ads tailored to a person's shopping and surfing preferences."  
   
  But we here have no idea how DoubleClick profiles us nor do we care, because we use a free utility called PopUpStopper that kills all pop-up and pop-under ads sight unseen.  DoubleClick can serve us any number of targeted ads, but we never see any.  The utility actually has an option for a sound to be emitted every time that a kill is made so you can gloat.  Supposedly, there are already 4.5 million copies of the utility around.  The popup stopper function will be present in the next generation of browsers, since those ads have become a major annoyance factor.
   
  And then we also run another free utilty Ad-Aware to erase Adware, AdBreak, AdReady, Alexa, Aureate, Bulla.com, Comet Cursor, Cydoor, Doubleclick, DSSAgent, EverAd, eZula, Expedioware, Flyswat, HomePageWare, SEBar, OfferCompanion, Hotbar, OnFlow, TimeSink, Web3000, Webhancer, Transponder, Wnad, ZapSpot, SurfPlus, AdvertBar, NetPal, CashBar, WurldMediaBHO, MessageMates, EWA, Ezsearchbar, CommonName, GoHip, DownloadWare, NetworkEssentials, ImiServerIEPlugin, TopMoxie, Lop.Com, BDE Projector, UCmore, OpenMe, JaypeeSysBHo, FlashTrack, NetRadar, NetZany, NetSource, NowBox,TrustToolBar, WinAd, Kontiki, 7faSSt Search, iWonCopilot and other spyware/parasite/scumware/thiefware.

WEEK OF AUGUST 20-AUGUST 26, 2002

• TIP ON PAYING THE BILL:  At a social like the one planned for tomorrow night (see next item), we may well have thirty to forty people, with the total bill running into several hundred dollars.  Out of the chaos, everyone leaves what he/she thinks is his/her share and the master-of-ceremony adds up the contributions and hopes that this is more than what the bill says.  Now most of us (if not all of us) are financial wizards, but occasionally --- God help us! --- we come up short.  In that event, it seems patently cruel and unfair to make our senior citizen Sid Howard go and wash dishes to make up for the shortfall.  So we urge everyone to make sure that they leave enough money before they leave.
   
  Why Sid Howard?  Because we think that he talks so much that they will let him go in less than five minutes.  As for us, we take ourselves out of the running because we are so good at boring, repetitious chores (such as running this website) that we are sure to be offered a permanent position ...
   

• TUESDAY TRACK POST-WORKOUT SOCIAL:  Social Director James Siegel: "Following this Tuesday's (8-27) track workout, a contingent of presumably thirsty and hungry runners will be heading to Two Boots on East 5th Street/Avenue A for pizza/pasta and drinks. All should attend to toast each other's company and the end of a hot summer. See you there!"  Please note that there are two Two Boots (=Four Boots?) at the intersection, and we want the one to the southwest of the intersection (and not the northeast).
   
  Their canned product description is: "Combining dishes from Louisiana and Italy (hence "Two Boots"), this child-friendly, eccentric jukejoint also sports some of the best big, thin-crust pizzas in town, with by-the-slice outposts popping up all over the place (across the street on Avenue A and 4th, on Bleecker Street just east of Broadway, and on the corner of 7th Avenue South and Greenwich). There's a fun mix of music, white-checkered tablecloths, beer served in boot mugs, wine in juice glasses, and a bar laminated with old photos and curios. The spicy garlic Cajun bread, Creole popcorn shrimp, po'boys and pecan-crusted catfish with cilantro aioli are sure standbys. Lunch is especially a good deal, with $5.95 entrees that include a soup or salad."  And we expect to re-write the description if they are not careful ...

• THE HEARTBREAK CONTINUES (AFTER AN INTERRUPTION):  Going through the recorded history on this website, we found these results for the Central Park Triathlon that takes place each year in August:
   
  Year Zero (1997): Stacy Creamer, 2nd place, time unknown
  Year One (1998): Stacy Creamer, 2nd place, 1:19:04
  Year Two (1999): Stacy Creamer, 2nd place, 1:20:45
  Year Three (2000): Stacy Creamer, 2nd place, 1:19:09
  Year Four (2001):  Stacy Creamer, 1st place, 1:17:55
  Year Five (2002): Stacy Creamer, 2nd place, 1:22:13
   
  Of course, just because it was not recorded does not mean that it did not happen.  In 1997, Ross Galitsky sent us this note:

"To punish you 'runner types', I will break up a fairy tale which has been erected in front of everyone's eyes.  I'm referring to one of my favorite people in the Club, heretofore considered to be a pure 'runner type'.
 
Last Thursday night, I was cleaning out my closet and I found a copy of Triathlon Today magazine from November, 1989! NO, I don't compile old issues of running magazines like all you "runner types" and display them in museum-grade storage enclosures.  Only you running geeks do that!  I had saved this issue because it contained articles about several races close to my heart (Scott Willett did quite well in them, BTW).
 
Alas, on Page 13A, there was an article titled 'NY Triathlon Series Central Park'.  There was a nice half-page write-up of the event and, smack in the middle of it, I saw:
 
'Overall Women: Stacy Creamer - 4th Place Overall, 1:24:00; Women 25-29: Stacy Creamer - 1st Place'.
 
That was 8 years ago! Let's face the reality --- multi-sport is what makes Stacy popular, attractive, successful, and an absolute pleasure to watch when she's dancing (as opposite to the contortions that the 'runner types' assume will be misconstrued as dancing).  So here, one of you is really one of us!!! It is just that she has been spinning wool over everybody's eyes hitherto!!!"

Stacy ("I am not a cyclist, I am not a swimmer") Creamer replied:

"So my cover is blown! To tell you the truth, I had no idea that my shadowy triathlon past dates as far back as 8 years -- maybe longer! But rest assured that the only triathlon in which I have ever competed is the Central Park Triathlon held in the park each August. This to me is the ideal triathlon: next to no commuting time, a short swim that you could also walk (Lasker pool isn't deep), a reasonable bike ride (12 miles), and a disproportionately long run (5 miles). That this triathlon seems to go head to head with far more popular and challenging triathlons in the region, thus depleting the caliber of the field, is also a big plus.  Five-year age groups also help bring the hardware home.

So, I am guilty as charged, but remember this:- on most years, when it comes to triathlon day, the last time I was in a pool was for the said triathlon the year before.  In other words: I am not a swimmer!  But if food consumption is a key component of triathlon training, I am very guilty as charged and would be pleased to dine with you at a restaurant of your choosing."

• LET'S BLOW UP THE NEW YORK TIMES!:  Let us state at the outset that we have no intention of doing so, because what would we read every day after that?  Concerning Ann Coulter's remark: "My only regret with Timothy McVeigh is he did not go to the New York Times Building," there was a letter in The Wall Street Journal:

  Why would anybody even pretend to believe that Ms. Coulter wishes any real harm to the New York Times or wishes to convert all Muslims forcibly to Christianity (a post-9/11 flight of fancy that got her fired from National Review)? The answer, one suspects, is that she and her foes insist on different visions of America.  Her foes see a fragile society full of rifts and flaws, oppressions and simmering resentments that can turn into open strife any moment. Ergo, free speech, however offensive, belongs morally on their side as an instrument of social palliation. Miss Coulter, as she has often demonstrated, inhabits a sturdier America with a self-confident unapologetic culture centered somewhere in the heartland. In her America, political and personal, even ethnic quips get thrown about with abandon in fierce raillery, everybody laughs about it afterwards and the country is none the worse for wear.  Miss Coulter, bless her heart, would take no offense at the analogy from Dr. Johnson. Her detractors would insist that she should.  

  Oh, really, so the defense is that this is all one jestful joke, huh?  Well, try saying "My only regret with Timothy McVeigh is he did not go to the White House," and you will have the Secret Service all over you for making terroristic threats against the President.  Or, better yet for test purposes, just try telling some jokes to the airport security screeners next time ...   
   
  On one hand, there is the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution: "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances."  On the other hand, does that entitle you to conduct speech that may endanger public safety (shouting "Fire!" in a crowded theater)?

  P.S.  On the basis of our opening remark, you may be inclined to believe that we are unquestioning fans of the New York Times.  Far from it!  In fact, we are highly skeptical of the self-appointed newspaper of record (case study: Venezuela in April 2002).  But then The Wall Street Journal ranks much lower in our eyes (case study: The El Mozote Massacre in El Salvador, where more twenty years later, the WSJ still wants to deny the event ever took place.  We can only remind them of the Beatles at the Star Club, Hamburg, Germany, 1962 --- at some point, John Lennon yelled at some guy in the audience who was heckling him all night: "Mister, you may have lost the War, but you can still have a good time!").
   

• PUBLIC SPACE POLICY:  This note serves to clarify what appears on this website.  According to the name, this is the website for the Central Park Track Club.  Over time, by default, this has become more like the website for the entire New York City running community.  Most of the contents of this website are prepared by the editorial staff, but we will accept outside contributions when it serves the public interest.  For example, we will publicize events, services and products, for the reason that they may be of interest to our constituency.
   
  At this moment in time, this issue is relevant for the the elections to the New York Road Runners board of directors.  All the nominees have their biographies published on the proxy statement.  Here at this website, we welcome the nominees (or their advocates, for that matter) to elaborate on their positions and qualifications.  These statements will be published on this particular page.  We consider this to be a matter of public interest, in that it will help people to make informed decisions.  Between now and the day of the annual NYRRC Inc meeting, we expect this page to be read by over 4,000 people.  As far as we can tell, this is the page with the highest reach for the target population.  You can send in your comments to the Central Park Track Club website.
     

• JAILBIRDS:  According to this CNN story: "The adult U.S. correctional population reached a record high at the end of 2001, with 3.1 percent of the nation's adult population incarcerated or under community supervision, federal statistics show.  Almost 6.6 million men and women made up the correctional population at the end of 2001, an increase of 147,000 from the end of 2000, according to a report titled 'Probation and Parole in the United States, 2001.' The Justice Department's Bureau of Justice Statistics compiled the report.  One in every 32 adult residents were on probation or parole or were held in a prison or jail, the report said."
   
  To put this number of 6.6 million in perspective, the 2000 Census figure for New York County (Manhattan) was only 1,537,195.   Even if we also locked up everyone in Queens (2,229,379) and Brooklyn (2,465,326), we would still be short of 6.6 million. 
   

• CROSS COUNTRY SCHEDULE:  Now accessible from our home page is the fall schedule for NYC- and non-NYC-cross country races.  The key race in the schedule is the Fred Lebow XC 5K on September 22.  This race counts in the NYRR Club Team Championships, so we hope that we will have a good turnout of sprinters and middle-distance runners for the one race of the year in which we all come together.
   

• THE KNAPSACKERS: An article by Gina Bellafante in the New York Sunday Times goes: "Though no empirical evidence exists to support this theory, the knapsack user who is well past college age often conforms to the following profile: he is intellectually agile, sheepish, self-reflecting, generally well intentioned and enormously complex.  Although the knapsack implies a certain boyish free-spiritiedness, the wearer is infrequently a free spirit.  He may be riddled with ambivalence about everything from whether to buy an apartment in Dumbo to how many slices of turkey to have in his sandwich for lunch.  At his worst, he is emotionally inert and commitment-averse."
   
  Below are four randomly found Central Park Track Club knapsackers.  That so-called theory is rapidly dissembling ...

• THE CLUB TEAM CHAMPIONSHIPS IN PERSPECTIVE:  How important is this race?  We quote from the national high school track & field website DyeStat on the Arizona Scottsdale City Meet: "In the words of Desert Mountain coach John Prather, this meet doesn't mean much, except for local supremacy."  In the case of the 2002 Club Team Championships, local supremacy went to the Westchester Track Club.  As for us, we knew we always had the softball game to fall back on.  And if we lose the softball game, we always know that our website is locally and globally supreme!!!
   

• THE RUNNER OR THE SHOE:  This article, "Greene Gets Spiky With Nike", reports: "As the world and Olympic champion, Greene said he expected to be treated with more respect by Nike when his contract came up for renewal in December. The company, whose swoosh logo is among the most recognisable on the planet, offered him less than half of the $1m (£650,000) he asked for and also refused to name a line of shoes in his honour.  But what made it particularly upsetting for Greene, his agent Emmanuel Hudson claimed, was that Nike had agreed to name a shoe after Bob Kennedy, the world's 41st-ranked 5,000m runner in 2001. His main claim to fame is that he was the first white man to break 13 minutes for 5,000m.  Greene signed with Nike's main rivals Adidas in May and they plan to launch soon a "Mo Greene" line of signature clothing and footwear."
   
  The article continues, "Several industry analysts are not convinced, however, that backing such big names translates into long-term sales or boosted stock prices. They believe Nike's new product lines themselves, not famous athletes' exploits, attract more consumers."
   
  So, when you buy a pair of shoes, which do you consider?  The celebrity endorser, or the shoe?  And, regardless of your answer, would you pay a $10 surcharge that goes to the celebrity endorser?
   

• CANADIAN LIBERALISM?  Kevan Huston: "So, wassup with that liberalism bit huh? Good lord! First, that's not even the official anthem (see, infra.). And second there's nothing "liberal" (by any definition) about the _Maple Leaf Forever_ -- it's positively imperial, which I suppose is the point.

  Sigh. As for the term "liberal", as employed in the current political context: it is a sad fact that *collectivists* (of which Mr Baldwin certainly ranks among the first tier) and their benefactors in the media have managed to co-opt a perfectly wonderful term for their own nefarious purposes (equally odious are so-called conservatives -- your friend Anne Coulter leaps to mind -- who also insist in calling illiberal sorts liberal). There was a time, you know, before Amtrak and airline bailouts; wars on cancer, drugs, poverty and terrorism; farm, steel, softwood, and textile subsidies; social security, new deals and new democrats, and all around general nannyism, that liberal really meant being, well, liberal.

  None of which has now or ever had anything to do with Canada or its anthems!

  ====

  Canada's Official National Anthem, adopted 1 July 1980 (Real Media ram file)

  O Canada!  Our home and native land!
  True patriot love in all thy sons command.
  With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
  The True North strong and free!

  From far and wide, O Canada, 
  We stand on guard for thee
  God keep our land glorious and free!
  O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
  O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
   

• EXCESSIVENESS IS OUR VIRTUE:  Michael Rosenthal asked: "I know that there are already a great many pictures from the Club Team Championships.  But I also took some pictures of the women's race after my race ended.  Would it be too much to post my pictures too?"  Well, we already have more than 7,700 photos posted, so what is a few more?  Excessiveness is our virtue and overkill is our weapon.  Besides, when Yahoo! Web Services boots us off for taking up too much disk storage, Michael's company (Walrus) will give us free space, right?
   

• ANOTHER OUT-OF-TOWN STORY:  Roger Liberman: "At Ellen's Run in Easthampton, I placed my car key in a shoe pocket for the race.  Unfortunately, it fell out unnoticed by me.  I looked and could not find it.  I had to find a ride to go back to the house to fetch the extra key.  When I got back to the race area, the drinks were done, the food was gone and the party was over.  There were only two cars left in the whole parking lot, and one of them was mine.  I learned that someone found my key and that they made continuous announcements.  When no one came forth, they announced that they would leave the car key in the door lock.  That was exactly how I found it.  In another place and another time, the car might have been taken within seconds.  But this is how it is out there ..."
   

• NAOMI WINS SIX IN A ROW:  Our sixteen-year-old prodigy Naomi Reynolds won the latest Van Cortlandt Summer Series on Thursday, making that six in a row in the series.  Unfortunately, she did not run the first race of the series, so she does not sweep.
   

• NYC RUN TO LIBERTY 10K:  From G'mo Rojas: "The New York Road Runners created this August 31st race to bring people back to lower Manhattan.  It is an event with many elements.  The 10K race starts and finishes in Battery Park, the race takes you through lower Manhattan and then up & down West Street back to Battery Park.  We will have kid's races, prize money and every registered runner will receive a free harbor cruise on Circle Line and a free lunch!  This is the best part --- at Friday's packet pickup, Alberto Salazar will be signing autographs."
    
  For the more materialistically minded, this race carries prize money for men and women:
   

  1st Place open	$400
  2nd Place open	$200
  3rd Place open	$150
  1st Masters (40+)	$125
  2nd Masters (40+)	$75
  3rd Masters (40+)	$50
  1st Veteran (50+)	$75
  2nd Veteran (50+)	$50
  3rd Veteran (50+)	$25

  Plus $100 for sub-31:00 time for men, or sub-35:00 for women.  NYRR membership is not required to claim these prizes.  
   

• DON'T MESS WITH TEXAS, PART 3:  Here is a quick quiz (note: we're asked this before but we'll ask you again) --- Of the married couple of Rostov ("Ross") Galitsky and Aubin Sullivan, who is the one that married someone born in Odessa?
   
  
  Ross Galitsky and Aubin Sullivan celebrating their marriage 
  at Sky Top after the Survival of the Shawangunks
   
  Answer:  Know thy Texan geography in the middle of the land ...
   

• CLUB TEAM CHAMPIONSHIPS WRAP-UP:  In Toby Tanser's wrap-up story on the NYRR website, the last paragraph is: "The spirit of this day is unrivaled in the NYRR club scene. It is a day when the majority of the teams forget the borders and the wrangles of the preceding months and come together to truly celebrate being a part of the city's great community of runners. A few hours after the last runners had crossed the line, and all the team bagels had been eaten or left to the birds, a number of local teams met at an outdoor restaurant by the Hudson River. A stranger leaning up at the bar asked, 'So what team is this?' After trying to point out various individuals, these runners told the stranger, 'This is the New York Road Runners; we're just one big family.'"
   

• DON'T MESS WITH TEXAS, PART 2:  In the New York Observer interview, Ann Coulter said :"I love Texas Republicans!  They're these beautiful women, they're so great-looking, they're completely loaded. They're dripping in this gorgeous jewelry, they're really funny and sarcastic and smart. Americans are so cool, and they're such parochial idiots here in New York. I mean, they really do seem to think in the Northeast that the South . is like an English-speaking Saudi Arabia and it must be coached in tolerance."
   

• TOBY GETS OUT OF TOWN HELP:  From John Prather: "I don't know that much about New York running.  I come from a land far far away, commonly known as Arizona (you know, "It's a dry heat").  Nevertheless, I have been called 'an out-of-towner who is in touch,' which is much better than "an out-of-toucher who is in town," I guess.  So with such a ringing endorsement, I take great pleasure in offering my own endorsement of Toby Tanser for NYRRC Board of Directors

    
  I had a blast being a runner in New York this summer, with its strong club system, its vibrant racing schedule, and its myriad special events.  The city offers so much for so many runners, as must NYRRC.  It seems to me that Toby is a rare individual with his finger on the pulses of both the elite and the back-of-the-pack runner.  Both are vital to the sport, to its survival and to providing it with its beauty.  I used and then deleted the word "egalitarianism," because clearly the fast and slow aren't equal in winning awards.  But they are indeed equal in making the sport as charming and wonderful as it is, one which brings together people of all ages, nationalities, occupations, interests, and talents.  Our sport must never lose that.  And anyone who knows Toby -- even if only from his website -- knows that he is uniquely capable of transcending all distinctions and doing what's best for the most people.
    
  For me, Toby's greatest quality may be the sense ethics he brings to the sport.  As an athlete, coach, agent, event manager, journalist, announcer, official, and fan in the sport for 30 years, I love our sport in the most idealistic sense.  I abhor cheating, I love seeing kids and their voyage of self-discovery, I am inspired by older runners whose competitive fires never waned, I am awed by people running as fast as I once could but never will again, and I am humbled by those determined to do something very hard very well.  All are equally vital parts of the New York running landscape.  Like me, Toby respects each and every runner for who they are, and for who they might become.
    
  In his own way, Toby has become New York running for many people, for those who keep abreast of the stories on his website, and for those who took their first running steps as a result of his tutelage.
    
  I don't believe I can say it any more eloquently than Roland did on the CPTC website, so if you haven't read his endorsement, I strongly urge you to do so.  Meanwhile, I'll conclude with this thought:  I've been in the sport since dinosaurs ran the stopwatches, and Toby epitomizes all that is good with running.  His experience and his idealism are most needed."