A Day in the Studio

Merry Christmas! Also, Runners Are Kinda Like Sperm

So I ran my first 5K race this past Saturday evening. It was the Trail of Lights 5K here in Austin. For those of you that don't know, part of Austin's Christmastime tradition includes a "trail of lights" that winds around a large park. A mile-long path is lined with lit-up scenes both sacred and secular, sponsored by various local groups, companies and institutions. Families come to admire the lights, drink hot chocolate, and warm up next to the Yule Log (a big ass fire). It's a swell time.

A few hundred feet away is the trail's sister attraction, the Zilker Tree. This "world's tallest man-made tree" was first erected in 1967 and stands 155 feet tall. At its base, the diameter is 120 feet, which is more than enough room for people to gather and eat kettle corn.

Because of the unique spiral pattern of colored lights, one important tradition is to stand under (inside) the tree, look straight up, and spin around like crazy. It gives you a hilarious, crazy/dizzy buzz, and everyone falls down. Here's the view while spinning:



Annnnyway, so I ran a 5K (3.2 miles) that went from this big tree, around the trail of lights, and back to the big tree. I chose this one because it's one of the few races that happens in the evening, and I loathe morning runs. The distance was of no concern, my usual runs are about 4 miles, but this was my first race ever.

The problem was that the race began at 6:30 PM and I needed to be done, showered and clean, dressed and on the road by 7:30 PM for a gig that night. So timing was going to be very tight.

I planned out everything with the precision of a watchmaker. I knew transportation was going to be troublesome; roads were closed and parking was extremely limited. So I prepared a three-tiered procedure: by car, by bike, by foot. I threw a bike in the trunk, drove as close as I could get, got the bike out, biked as close as I could get, locked up the bike, and walked the rest of the way.

This is where the sex metaphor begins. At this point, you have like 5,000 people just waiting around, waiting for the race to begin, getting more and more anxious and excited. I struck up some conversation with a nice girl named Karen, a grad student at UT (I kept up with her for about the first mile, before she left me in the dust). As more and more people show up, space becomes tight and in the final few minutes, everyone is just on top of each other, bumping into one another, trying to stretch out their hammies, jumping up and down. You know, just like sperm.

The metaphor does break down momentarily, when the announcer explains that the people racing in wheelchairs will begin first, thus getting a hefty head start. Natural Selection would never be so kind.

Then comes the moment of truth. The air-horn is sounded and off we go. This is a scene that should be described by a ranting, hysterical Jack Kerouac: "And into the night, legs, arms inside around behind me, swirling the sky, churning and can't feel what you, next to me, but that these souls, crazy bumping into my chest and hands, crazy the sacred pounding feet that pound, the swinging arms that swing, and all of us together like an octopus gasp for air that hangs just above us like a vast cumulonimbus in heaven."

But really, in the moment, I was struck with the definite realization: "This is like being sperm!"

Anyway. I did really well, I think. It's technically a "fun run", so they don't gather hardcore statistics, like everyone's time or anything, but I finished in 22:15, which is like just under an average 7 minute mile. It was exhausting. I had a pretty good view of everyone ahead of me at one point, and if I had to guess, I'd say I came in about 100th place.

Right, so I come sprinting through the finish line, absolutely GASPing for air. I'm like Cramps McGee at this point. Everyone is stopping, catching their breath, slapping each other on the back, getting some water. But not me. My race isn't over. I have a gig to get to.

I don't even stop running. Seriously. I just took a sharp, right turn and kept running, down a grassy hill, slowing now to a jog, through a thicket of trees, around a fence, to my chained up bike, which I freed and immediately hopped onto. I pedaled up a hill and back onto the main path. I then had the surreal realization (surrealization?) that I was back in the race again: there were so many people there, that in the 25 or so minutes that had passed since the air horn, some people had barely had the chance to BEGIN the race.

Drenched in sweat, I biked about a mile back to my car. The cool breeze felt so good. I threw the bike in the trunk and drove home, ran through the shower, and saw that it was 7:25 PM. Perfect timing.

My Theological Worldview

So my friend Julie told me to take this quiz, which would analyze my spirituality, and a picture of Brian McLaren came up. Hilarious. If you weren't aware, he came to Austin to speak about his new book called Everything Must Change, and I performed a few songs to open for him. You can take the quiz here: http://quizfarm.com/test.php?q_id=43870

What's your theological worldview? created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Emergent/Postmodern You are Emergent/Postmodern in your theology. You feel alienated from older forms of church, you don't think they connect to modern culture very well. No one knows the whole truth about God, and we have much to learn from each other, and so learning takes place in dialogue. Evangelism should take place in relationships rather than through crusades and altar-calls. People are interested in spirituality and want to ask questions, so the church should help them to do this. Emergent/Postmodern 89% Classical Liberal 75% Modern Liberal 68% Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan 64% Neo orthodox 54% Charismatic/Pentecostal 39% Reformed Evangelical 36% Roman Catholic 32% Fundamentalist 11%

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