Sociology 101
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I expect to be on a hiking/camping trip in the mountains shortly, so yesterday, in order to prepare, I loaded up a big backpack (that I will be using on the trip) with some weights and towels and a sleeping bag (all inside the pack), and set out for Sand Dune Park, which is mostly comprised of a fairly steep sand dune that is maybe a 10-minute walk from our house.
On the walk to the dune, I didn't bump into any neighbors that I know, but I saw maybe five or seven folks out with their dogs for walks. I was looking pretty scruffy...and with my big backpack and beat-up shoes, it probably appeared as if I spent the night outside because I didn't have a home. The looks I got from my neighbors ranged from revulsion to curiosity to apprehension to "what the f**k are you doing in my neighborhood?" (Or perhaps I misinterpreted, maybe it was "What the F**K are YOU doing in MY neighborhood?")
Anyway, I just smiled and kept walking.
I was inspired to walk up the sand dune with my pack by my former assistant (she is a high-altitude Himalayan climber and once reached the summit of Baruntse, above 26K feet). For her 40th birthday, she strapped on her pack and walked up the dune in Sand Dune Park 40 times. To give you an idea of the difficulty, even when I was running 36-minute 10K's and 3-hour marathons, I could not run up the dune even once. Sort of a fast walk-jog was the best I could manage. I could do it a lot of times, but running all the way up it? Out of the question.
The dune is a very popular training site for sprinters from various local track teams and they were out in force on Sunday. In the space of ten minutes, I underwent a interesting transformation, from being reviled by my neighbors to respected by my fellow dune-climbers. I could hear people talking or mumbling about the pack as they passed me or I passed them on the way up the dune. I got several comments, but my favorite, that sort of encapsulates the theme, was a friendly and respectful, "You a crazy motherf**er!!" from a big, strong, sprinter-looking type.
I was cooked after 10 repetitions and am still bit sore today.
On the walk to the dune, I didn't bump into any neighbors that I know, but I saw maybe five or seven folks out with their dogs for walks. I was looking pretty scruffy...and with my big backpack and beat-up shoes, it probably appeared as if I spent the night outside because I didn't have a home. The looks I got from my neighbors ranged from revulsion to curiosity to apprehension to "what the f**k are you doing in my neighborhood?" (Or perhaps I misinterpreted, maybe it was "What the F**K are YOU doing in MY neighborhood?")
Anyway, I just smiled and kept walking.
I was inspired to walk up the sand dune with my pack by my former assistant (she is a high-altitude Himalayan climber and once reached the summit of Baruntse, above 26K feet). For her 40th birthday, she strapped on her pack and walked up the dune in Sand Dune Park 40 times. To give you an idea of the difficulty, even when I was running 36-minute 10K's and 3-hour marathons, I could not run up the dune even once. Sort of a fast walk-jog was the best I could manage. I could do it a lot of times, but running all the way up it? Out of the question.
The dune is a very popular training site for sprinters from various local track teams and they were out in force on Sunday. In the space of ten minutes, I underwent a interesting transformation, from being reviled by my neighbors to respected by my fellow dune-climbers. I could hear people talking or mumbling about the pack as they passed me or I passed them on the way up the dune. I got several comments, but my favorite, that sort of encapsulates the theme, was a friendly and respectful, "You a crazy motherf**er!!" from a big, strong, sprinter-looking type.
I was cooked after 10 repetitions and am still bit sore today.
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