Chicago or Boston?

I was in Boston, one of the oldest cities in the United States, and while I was there to run, what I was really there to do was to solve a question that philosophers have been debating for centuries: who has a better deep dish pizza: Chicago or Boston?! Let me give some context…

Early last week my coaches told me that I would be going to Boston to race the 1000m at Boston University. Then, the next day, they told me I would be going on my own. I’ve travelled around Europe and North America on my own but I’ve never gone to a foreign meet and raced by myself.

The goal was to have a good experience and learn a few things about the process of traveling and competing by myself. I wasn’t really focused on the race as much as on where to put my bag, where to get my coffee, where to pick-up my race number and all those other things an athlete generally takes for granted. The race was decent. Based on the results from previous years I thought it was going to be better competition. Anyway, I’m planning on running the distance twice more this season so I’ll get the chance to run the time I really want! Here’s a video of the race.

After my race I called the Importants and told them how the race went. I then decided to walk back to my hotel and run from there (that way I could see as much as the city in as little time as possible).

It was a bit surreal finishing the race, running close to a 3 second personal best, and then going back to my hotel room without anyone else. It helped keep things in perspective and made me realize that this racing thing really doesn’t mean much in the grand scheme of it all.

Anyway, now that I had finished my race and my cool down it was time to get down to business! It took me awhile to find what the locals called “the best deep dish pizza in Boston” but I did! I haven’t been in Chicago since I was in my sophomore year at Western but if memory serves me, I have to say, Chicago wins this one! Boston deep dish is good, but Chicago is still unbeatable!

After indulging in a small deep dish, I passed out (around 8:30pm). I left my hotel at 4am Sunday morning and caught my flight back to Toronto (arrived at 8:30). My dad messaged me the night before and asked if I wanted to come back home to Guelph for a few hours since most of my family would be there. So he picked me up at the airport and I went back to Guelph for the morning/afternoon. It was good seeing everyone! I then went to Hamilton to visit Vince and Flavia. Then, at 10:30 at night, I caught a bus back to Toronto.

It was a good little weekend but I’m even more excited for what’s to come this week and next!

leave Haiti alone

Coldplay is doing an acoustic set. Simon Cowell is making a special CD. Banks are partnering with Red Cross. Presidents are sending money. Google is changing its homepage. Rogers is sending “donation” texts. Everyone has decided to do something for the situation in Haiti. Individuals, organizations, families and communities are all thinking of ways to help.

The people in Haiti need a hand, that is certain. But what is even more certain is that they needed help before this event, and they will need help in 20 years. But when the cameras leave their country, who will remain to help?

If you have been watching the news you’ll have noticed that the attention is not on them, it is about how they are being helped… by us.  Our obsession with attention has turned their story, into our story?  (As if we didn’t think about ourselves enough.)  We need to be giving generously, but why do we need to let other people know what we are doing? Why do we have a cheque book in one hand and a trumpet in the other?

We need to lend a hand, but first, we need to find a mask.

sleep with someone you can smile with

Just the other night I was having a “calm tea” at a nearby Starbucks. I was reading a book entitled, “Purity of Heart is to Will One Thing” (Kierkegaard). I was sitting on one of a series of sofas; they had been arranged as if we were in a living room. To my immediate left was a small desk and beside that was someone else, enjoying her own selected hot drink and book.

I got up to go to the washroom and put my book face-up on the desk. When I came back, she said, “That’s an interesting title.” I said, “I know. The title is hard enough to get through…”

“What is it about”

“It’s sort of about me and God. It talks about how I tell God (sometimes) that I want him in my life at certain moments and out of my life at other moments.”

“Like, you wrote it?”

“No, the author wrote it like 150 years ago, but it feels like he directed it at me.”

“So, is it a novel?”

“No, it’s sort of like religious poetry.”

“And what’s the point of it?”

“Well the author is trying to convince me to give up on God.”

“Oh so it’s written by an atheist?”

“No, actually the author was a devout Christian.”

“Then why would he want you to give up on God?”

“Good question. Well… because… I have more than one thing in my life right now and I want both of them to be at the centre.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“How can people have two centres?”

The conversation continued for another 15 minutes.

I guess this is a subject that really fascinates me. I’ve had to ask my self: Why do you have your tent set-up in two camps? Won’t you understand the one camp more thoroughly if you fully commit to it? Sleep there, cook there, live there. Make a choice and commit to it. Don’t choose something out of the fear of punishment or because it is your family tradition. Choose it for your self; because you believe it.

When the lights are turned off and it’s time to go to sleep you must sleep, if with no one else, your self. And isn’t it better that you sleep with someone you can live with? Isn’t it better to go to sleep with someone you can smile with? The morning will come soon and the sunlight will make all your things transparent.

But as months go by you must be honest with your self. “Is this the sort of person I want to take with me from this day forward? Is this the life I believe in?”

Wittgenstein says, “”I never believed in God before” – that I understand. But not: “I never really believed in Him before”.”

paint a picture

1 picture speaks 1000 words but when 1000 pictures are posted, they really only speak 1 word each.

I live a couple blocks north of Dundas Square and I am always amazed by how many people walk up and down the streets with a $1000 camera around their neck. The number of professional photographers is rapidly increasing!

I love pictures and I love seeing people try and capture some thing that they find meaningful. But with things like Facebook, Flickr, Photobucket and TinyPic, people have gone trigger happy.

Someone said, “less is more” and when it comes to pictures, I would have to agree. Before you press on, press off. Even though it is digital, you still have to try. Paint a picture. If you go on a 7-day trip, see if you can capture it with 1 picture. Why? Because 1 picture speaks 1000 words…

the last semester

The truth is, I’ve been busy writing other things. Check back in a day or two and I promise to give you something that you can chew on. Till then, here’s a bit of what’s been going on and what’s coming up.

This is the last semester of my two-year master’s degree. I thought by this point I would want to take a break, but, truth be told, I feel like I’m just getting my feet wet.

On Friday, I handed in my application for a PhD program here at U of T. I would be studying in the philosophy of religion but to be honest, the odds are stacked against me. During the program, candidates must learn 3 foreign languages. If you do not have any languages going in it is very difficult to be accepted. I have zero. I was brought up in an Italian home and told the committee that I could write the test at the end of the summer so we’ll see what they say. The other two languages I would have to learn would be German and Latin.

If I’m accepted, Toronto would be my new home for the next 4 years (which makes me excited)! I love this city and would love to stay here until I meet some girl who convinces me that it is better to raise a family somewhere else (o.k. I’m getting ahead of myself). If I’m not accepted, then I go to my backup plan…

So now it’s a waiting game. I’ll most likely hear back within 4-6 weeks and I’ll make sure I let you know what happens.

This semester I’ll be busy finishing my 60-page thesis, which is on Wittgenstein and Postmodernism. (If you are extremely strange and want to know more about it then just write a comment at the end of this post.) It’s going to be a fairly busy semester since I’m also competing for the University. I’ll be competing this Saturday in Toronto (1500) and then it looks like I’ll be at Boston University (800 or 1000) the week after and Notre Dame (800 or 1000) the week after that. Then, the week after that, while all the students are in Cancun, drinking their OSAP, I’ll be in Florida training and writing. I’ll come back for my last two competitions (Provincials at the end of February and Nationals mid-March) and then, two weeks after that, I’ll fly out west to compete at Stanford, California. By then I should be ready to defend my thesis and take a nap.

I’ve decided to take off for a little while once I defend (end of March). I’m thinking of going somewhere for a couple months to train and write. More on that later…

a promise in pencil

We all thought it would be a good idea to get some breakfast. We were moving slowly this morning but only because we were moving quickly last night. In light of what I did last night, Club Italia has officially announced that their dance floor will be named in my honour.

I know I made the right decision to leave training camp and be with my family. It was a night to remember.

Anyway, we were sitting around a table reminiscing on what had happened just a few hours earlier. As we were sipping our coffee and eating our eggs, side conversations began to develop. “I can’t believe it’s 2010!” “I thought there would be flying cars by now?” “2010 Michael is so different than 2009 Michael.” Etc…

The start of a new year always causes reflection on the year past and the year to come.

Every year, since I was about 10, my parents had this tradition where me and my brothers would get out pieces of paper and pen some words and propositions. We would make goals that would help develop our mind, body and soul. In a sense, we would make promises of who we would try and become…

This ritual started by providing me with hope, hope that I could change. I would throw myself into a promise. I would strive to change those areas of my life that left me unsatisfied. I would seek wisdom from those sages that held the key to my freedom. I would point myself in the right direction, but at the end of so many years I would find myself unable to keep those promises and what started with hope, ended in despair.

One of my favourite poets says:

so slowly i’m losing
who i’ve sworn to be.
a promise in pencil
that years have made so hard to read.

This year you may decide its time to change something in your life. Maybe you want to change the way you treat your self; maybe the way you treat your neighbour. If you do find yourself in your room, making a promise in pencil, remember that your promise is not broken or fulfilled at the end of the year; years will make it so hard to read!

Your promise will be broken and/or fulfilled with your every thought and your every action. Every situation you face has a choice and that choice has an outcome which will either be in favour of your promise or against it.

It is only through constant repetition (and often, repentance) that your promise will be fulfilled.

Wake-up! You’re alive…

Earlier this week I woke up in my grandparents house and packed my things, I was excited to spend 9 days in Florida. The next morning I found myself waking up in an airport. A few hours after that I was in an Orange Grove running with my shirt off. Not long after that I sat down in the resort lobby booking a flight home.

I look forward to this trip every year but when I got to Florida this year I knew something was wrong. I was not motivated to train and I was not motivated to be there.

My entire family (folks, siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, significant others, etc…) was planning on spending New Year’s Eve in Niagara Falls at Club Italia. I would be one of the only ones not there. The last 3 years I have wished my family happy new years through long-distance phone calls and text messages, but too much has happened this year for that pattern to continue. So I’m on my way home early…

With the conclusion of another year I thought I would share a few thoughts:

1. You’ll never realize what you have unless you use it or unless it is taken away.
2. You have the opportunity to do so many things; those opportunities cause many to do nothing…
3. You are constantly making choices and those choices are leading you to a very specific destination, one that you may be proud of or one that you may detest.
4. Having goals are fine but don’t let them prevent you from enjoying the journey… The journey is the destination.
5. Unless you have demonstrated absolute obedience and conviction, you have not experienced doubt.
6. Don’t try and find meaning in that which you do not live; the gap between meaning and understanding is great.
7. Running is a great way to learn something about yourself.
8. If you have to keep a straight face on a first date, then it’s not going to work out.
9. Wake-up! You’re alive and we’re on your side!

my home is where the heart of my family is

Two days ago, 45 minutes down the road, the grass was green and the roads were clear. I’m now sitting at gate 16, looking outside at a blank piece of paper. Everything is white. Planes are delayed, people are trying to find places to stay and I’m trying to get myself to Florida.

Shortly after Christmas, for the last four years at least, I make my way down to Florida for 9-10 days with some coaches and athletes from the University of Toronto. It’s always a great time. The weather is consistent and the lazy river is warm. I go down to relax and train. Lots of people don’t know what I mean when I say “train” so in the next couple days I’ll provide a definition through a sample day.

In the past I have had to leave the day after Christmas, which means little time with the family. This year I was fortunate enough to be able to spend an extra two days with them. As a child I remember spending a few extra days in the Falls and this year was reminiscent of those days.

Our Christmas tradition is fairly busy.

We’re with my Dad’s relatives Christmas Eve (Toronto), we have our own Christmas on Christmas morning (Guelph), and then we leave to visit my mom’s relatives Christmas afternoon and we stay there for a few days (Niagara Falls). 

My home is in Guelph, but really, my home is where the heart of my family is. If the heart of my family is in Toronto, then home is in Toronto. Some people only feel “at home” when they are in the physical presence of their bedroom, family room and so on…  

I’ve done a good amount of traveling this year:
Orlando, Florida – early January
Seattle, Washington - late January
San Antonio, Texas – late March
L.A, California – mid April
Various places in Europe – July
Venice, Florida – late August
Orlando, Florida – late December   

Not one of those trips was done with my family (San Antonio was with my brother and Venice was with my cousin and her husband). I’ve travelled all over. I’ve had a number of experiences.

But I’ve realized: happiness is meant to be shared…

everyone should fight

As the wine bottles became lighter we started talking about all of the fights that we had been in. My cousin Sophia, her husband Jeremy, my oldest brother Vince and his finance, Flavia, allowed me to be the 5th wheel last night. We all had a long day of family activities, which finished off with the viewing of Avatar in 3D. Vince and I had already seen it in 2D, now we just have the IMAX experience left…although Vince made the point that we could have avoided all of this and just watched it in IMAX first. The film is a visual masterpiece, but I don’t want to get into that here.

Us cousins are all fairly close and the older we get, the closer we become. I’m unfortunately not going to be joining them at Club Italia this New Year as I will be in Orlando doing my running thing (tough life, I know) so I suggested that we go get some drinks and catch up. 

So like I was saying, as we started drinking more of that red grape juice we started talking about fighting. Some of the stories were hilarious, others were frightening, others, I hope, were made-up.

I wasn’t surprised that all the guys had a couple stories each. Some guys are just prone to physical confrontation. The big surprise of the evening, however, was hearing the fearless attitude of the girls who expressed an unprecedented passion for violence! I’m not saying they’re interested in joining Tyler Durden and his friends, but I was impressed with the assertiveness of these ladies!

The girls explained how they would, if they had to, defend themselves from robbers/thieves, creeps/stalkers, and girls moving in on their men!  

I went back to my hotel and as I was falling asleep I began looking back on this year, which is something I often do around this time. I can recount many situations where I was given the opportunity to fight and I thought to myself, “Everyone should fight”. Most of us, I hope, will never get into a physical fight. But if we want, we can always find a fight in ourselves. 

Sickness and death. Pride and temptation. Cowardliness and gluttony.

I haven’t always won, in fact, I haven’t always put up a good fight. 

Like I’ve said elsewhere, I’ve experienced a lot of death this year. Just this afternoon I was in New York for my great aunts funeral. When I’m standing above a Sleeping Beauty I often wonder, “What sort of fights he get into?”  ”Did she face the fight or did she concede without effort?” “Did he see his suffering as a way of feeling sorry himself or as a way of developing perseverance?” 

I don’t know what happens when you die, but I’d like to think that I’m starting to understand what can happen to you when you’re alive. But I think each person needs to figure that out on their own… 

This year I’m going to bully myself around a bit more. I’m not going to be so easy on myself. I want to test myself by seeing what sort of faith I actually have in myself, for as the poet says, “the testing of your faith develops perseverance”.

oh, Death!

So many close family members have died this year that I find myself constantly and carefully tracing all my memories of those departed. During this Joyful season we call Christmas, I find it difficult staying in tune with the Christmas melody. In the midst of Christmas parties, slow-paced days, and renewed conversations with old friends, I find myself quieted.

Death humbles.

It has made me aware of the inevitable. It is the Constant Reminder. It is the Ruthless Teacher. It is the Unavoidable End. It comes like a storm without warning, changing everything I’ve known.

It always bends its victim and it often breaks. It will not forget about you. It is merciless. It is painful. It is incomprehensible. It is despairing.

Those celebrating Christmas believe that on some specific day in history, the Infinite became finite and that through this event, which they call the Incarnation, death would be dealt with once and for all. This is the Christmas promise, this is what gives the Christian hope. But even those standing in the centre of this belief are winded and brought to their knees when deaths ugly face appears.

Even the Incarnation wept when a close friend experienced the sting of death.

This year will bring back memories of funeral homes and dark clothes. The moments of joy will be overshadowed by the reality that the dinner table will have a few empty seats. Grace will be a little longer. Gift-giving will be a little shorter. Less wine will be drunk… or more wine. We will continue with our traditions but, oh, Death! you have certainly put a limp in my stride.