West Philly Running

Geoff introduced me to the Fishtown Beer Runners, a group based out of the NE Philly Fishtown neighborhood where, incidentally, my Philadelphia odyssey began over four years ago.  A PhD student, the lore goes, with a proclivity towards running and drinking set out to determine whether there was really any health benefit to drinking water after a run versus, say, drinking a beer.  His experimental results were the foundation for the Beer Runners, finding that a pint of water and equal quantity of beer provided the same amount of hydration, while the beer calories were also beneficial nutrients after a run (and the beer drinkers were generally much happier than the water drinkers).  They gather weekly to run to a nearby bar where they hydrate with a pint or two.  They captured my heart.

West Philly is the place I now call home.  The community, which is generally associated with U Penn, Drexel University and the Fresh Prince is sorely lacking the unifying element of a running group that drinks together.  It would be up to me to bring this to fruition.  So I did. www.WestPhillyRunners.com

Later, I decided to run the Philadelphia half-marathon.  Geoff had nearly convinced me to run the entire marathon. However, at the mile twelve marker, when faced with the decision to go on or conclude my running, I opted to forgo potential bodily harm and sprinted to the finish line.  Geoff ran on, finishing two hours later, a marathoner and [my] hero.  My marathon glory yet awaits me in the future.

A Roof Over Our Heads

There are times when carefree cycling is in order and others when a sun-filled sky beckons concerted work.  At least thats the notion that occurred to me as I sat atop a wall of a roofless building scrubbing rust off steel that would one day support a new roof.  I felt glad to accept this gift of a warm day in late Fall.  Ryan knelt across from me on an the ledge of the adjacent wall, shirtless and shoe-less, looking like a boy building his first tree-house.  Happiness is found in these moments, the strain of effort directly translated to action for a great cause.  Yet, how did I end up here in West Philly so far from where I envisioned myself only months ago?

Einstein defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.  Such interesting thoughts come to mind as you sit at your computer editing yet another cover letter for another job that you know should be yours.  But it won't be, because you know that it isn't a job you are applying for, but an illusion.  I opted to keep my sanity, conceding, recession confirmed.  Conveniently, my summer apartment lease ended at the same time as my desire to continue the fruitless search for professional work.  It was at about this time that an old friend made me an offer for a work-housing agreement.  That is, I would work for him in exchange for free housing.  The only catch is that the house is also the work site.

The first step to living in a gutted building is to take stock of what you have.  Practically speaking, my new residence had everything necessary to sustain a functional human life: bathroom with shower and kitchen - two burner propane range, slate counter.  Added to this the upright piano in exquisite contrast.  Then, after you get through that initial shock of the deprivation and the cold shower, you set about making it a home.  Our first order of business, a roof over our heads.

After a brief reprieve.

I thought I would retire this blog.

Then recently an old friend encouraged me to write again.  I pointed out, as though she wasn't aware, that I was no longer biking.  "And what would I write about now that I'm not on my trip anyway?"  She replied patiently, but clearly disappointed that I couldn't see what was plainly in front of me.  Biking into the wind has always been meant as a metaphor.  And it has never been more appropriate given the direction of my life in the recent months.  So here goes.