It's been a while, but I am back, and I am back running. This week I took my first steps back into running. I wanted to wait until my knee had at least five days without any pain or tweaking. My last three runs have been short and slow, but glad to be out there. 2, 2.5 and 3.1 mile runs. Clearly nothing too major, but when coming back from an injury you don't want to do anything to risk re-injury.
Today's run was the best of the three. I ran without a watch, and just ran. I enjoyed the run. It gave me time to take it easy, focus on my body while I ran, and didn't worry about my pace. The sun was out, but it was darned chilly out there. Yup....it sure isn't Summer.
So how am I set for marathon training? Being out of running for 3 weeks is a set back, but I also know I can't make it all up in a week. I will still be taking some time, and slowly building my miles and time.
In hindsight, I think I really got injured for doing back to back half marathons. The goal of 4 half marathons this year really needed to be spaced out better. I swear I don't know how people do long distance races so regularly. They must be blessed with amazing bodies.
For now...I'm back and running. Happy to be back.
Charlie
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Friday, November 16, 2012
Recovering
I apologize for the lack of writing. My running has been non-existant since the half marathon, due to an injury. Ironically I didn't get injured at the race. It was later that evening at dinner. I got up out of a chair and twisted my knee a bit. It has been sore since.
I'm not a person who likes to stay inactive, but I realized my knee needs some time to heal. It is much better, but I am not quite ready run. Maybe in the next day or so. Once I do run, I will do my 5K for Marathon Kids. This is why you have not heard a report from me on that front.
I have been on vacation this week, so it's been a bit easier to not be doing things which might bother my knee. Of course with vacation comes more eating. I was in Wisconsin, land of cheese and beer. I am getting back into the groove though. Birthday is over, so no more parties.
Haven't decided on a Thanksgiving Day race. I'm not doing the Drumstick Dash this year. I may just run on my own. Might be a nice change of pace.
In the meantime, I hope all of you are well, and your running is going along smoothly.
Charlie
I'm not a person who likes to stay inactive, but I realized my knee needs some time to heal. It is much better, but I am not quite ready run. Maybe in the next day or so. Once I do run, I will do my 5K for Marathon Kids. This is why you have not heard a report from me on that front.
I have been on vacation this week, so it's been a bit easier to not be doing things which might bother my knee. Of course with vacation comes more eating. I was in Wisconsin, land of cheese and beer. I am getting back into the groove though. Birthday is over, so no more parties.
Haven't decided on a Thanksgiving Day race. I'm not doing the Drumstick Dash this year. I may just run on my own. Might be a nice change of pace.
In the meantime, I hope all of you are well, and your running is going along smoothly.
Charlie
Monday, November 12, 2012
In My 50th Year
The countdown has finished, today I am 50. Who knew that 50 years ago this little baby.....
would go on an incredible life journey. As I have talked about over the last few weeks, I have had incredible highs, and some horrible lows. I have had moments of pure happiness....
and I have moments where I didn't know if I would live. I have seen incredible things from Paris to Hong Kong, and all points in between. I have performed on the stage at Second City. I have known heartache, and I have known great love.
would go on an incredible life journey. As I have talked about over the last few weeks, I have had incredible highs, and some horrible lows. I have had moments of pure happiness....
I have been lucky to have parents who loved me.....
And a sister who is a joy....
I have been an actor, a world traveler, a friend, a son, a brother, a loving partner, a runner and so much more, and that is just the first 50 years. I know I will have more adventures, more love, more ups and more downs. I don't know what the next 50 years will be like, but if they are like the first 50, then it will be quite a ride.
Charlie
Sunday, November 11, 2012
The Weekend
Mark, Friday and I are in Wisconsin to celebrate year number 50! We got here Friday afternoon, and have spent a wonderful weekend with my cousins, my sister and youngest niece. Good times, good food, and one spoiled dog. Friday is loving all the attention of everyone. I love spending time with family. I haven't been up here in a few years, so I am appreciating being with everyone.
Tonight is the big birthday dinner with most everyone. Tomorrow I will try to run my 5K. I have had a bad knee since last weekend, so no running. There is still tine to donate to my campaign for Marathon Kids.
http://www.crowdrise.com/CharliesTurning50
The goal is to raise $1000, but I may come up short.
Will detail the big day, my thoughts and the run tomorrow.
Charlie
Tonight is the big birthday dinner with most everyone. Tomorrow I will try to run my 5K. I have had a bad knee since last weekend, so no running. There is still tine to donate to my campaign for Marathon Kids.
http://www.crowdrise.com/CharliesTurning50
The goal is to raise $1000, but I may come up short.
Will detail the big day, my thoughts and the run tomorrow.
Charlie
Wednesday, November 07, 2012
Countdown to 50: Loss and Living
Today is a sad day in my family. On this day, fifteen years ago we lost my mom. Those who know me, and those who have read this blog regularly know what a painful loss that has been for me. You also know we lost my brother David in 1968. Loss and dealing with it change a family. Nothing is ever the same when you lose the people you love. How you cope is what defines you from that moment on.
In the case of my mom, I have thought back over and over again all the lessons she tried to teach me. Some of the lessons were involved incredible a ha moments. Others were more painful. Nancy Colpaert was an intelligent woman, full of grace and love. She was a determined woman who could have achieved things in life that few women had tried in her day.
She lived through the depression, which I believe gave her strength. She served her country. While she might not have talked much about her service, she served when women volunteered, and men were drafted. Through this I learned the value of service to others.
She and my dad traveled the world, and as I mentioned in another post, she taught me that this was my world, and I needed to discover it. She encouraged dreams. When I wanted to be an actor, she bucked conventional wisdom(a.k.a. Dad), and told me to pursue it. I learned the importance of being loyal through her.
I believe my love of coffee came from her. That woman could make a cup of coffee that would get up, walk over to you, slap you in the face and tell you to get your butt in gear. When she would come back from a trip, one of the criteria for whether a trip was a good one or not, was how good was the coffee. Sorry China - epic fail!
The death of my brother taught me different lessons. I learned that sometimes families don't know how to cope with loss. I learned when one is taken away at such a young age, there is a void which is never quite filled. From David though, I learned about fun, joy, competition, and how you need to take the time to share things with children.
David died at 16. I was 5. At a point in his life when he could have pushed away a younger brother to spend time with friends, he made time for me. My best memories are of him putting me on his shoulders, and I would have to duck as we would go from room to room. David was over 6'5" tall.
His death changed my family in a negative way. Mom's death changed me for the better. Loss means we have to learn how to live with the change. It means we have to think about what we learned from our loved ones, and hopefully put the best lessons in place. It isn't easy. Death has a way to swallow people and consume them. That isn't what our loved ones want. They want us to thrive and live, not live in sadness.
Each time I run, I take a few moments to think about my mom and brother, and privately ask them to come along with me as I take my journey that day. I miss them every day, but I believe they are with me in some form with every step I take.
I love you mom and David.
Charlie
In the case of my mom, I have thought back over and over again all the lessons she tried to teach me. Some of the lessons were involved incredible a ha moments. Others were more painful. Nancy Colpaert was an intelligent woman, full of grace and love. She was a determined woman who could have achieved things in life that few women had tried in her day.
She lived through the depression, which I believe gave her strength. She served her country. While she might not have talked much about her service, she served when women volunteered, and men were drafted. Through this I learned the value of service to others.
She and my dad traveled the world, and as I mentioned in another post, she taught me that this was my world, and I needed to discover it. She encouraged dreams. When I wanted to be an actor, she bucked conventional wisdom(a.k.a. Dad), and told me to pursue it. I learned the importance of being loyal through her.
I believe my love of coffee came from her. That woman could make a cup of coffee that would get up, walk over to you, slap you in the face and tell you to get your butt in gear. When she would come back from a trip, one of the criteria for whether a trip was a good one or not, was how good was the coffee. Sorry China - epic fail!
The death of my brother taught me different lessons. I learned that sometimes families don't know how to cope with loss. I learned when one is taken away at such a young age, there is a void which is never quite filled. From David though, I learned about fun, joy, competition, and how you need to take the time to share things with children.
David died at 16. I was 5. At a point in his life when he could have pushed away a younger brother to spend time with friends, he made time for me. My best memories are of him putting me on his shoulders, and I would have to duck as we would go from room to room. David was over 6'5" tall.
His death changed my family in a negative way. Mom's death changed me for the better. Loss means we have to learn how to live with the change. It means we have to think about what we learned from our loved ones, and hopefully put the best lessons in place. It isn't easy. Death has a way to swallow people and consume them. That isn't what our loved ones want. They want us to thrive and live, not live in sadness.
Each time I run, I take a few moments to think about my mom and brother, and privately ask them to come along with me as I take my journey that day. I miss them every day, but I believe they are with me in some form with every step I take.
I love you mom and David.
Charlie
Tuesday, November 06, 2012
The Body is Ok
Usually after a race there is quite a bit of pain. Ironically the pain I am feel wasn't race related. Remember on race day my issue was the arthritis in my feet were bothering. The walk to the car was a long and painful walk. I did my usual Frankenstein walk. Ugh.
The pain I suffered happened later that night at dinner. I got up funny from a chair I was sitting in. I stood up too fast, and began to turn to the right quickly, and I tweaked my knee. Now that has been painful for a couple of days. The rest of my body - nothing.
In fact the day after the race the only thing hurting was that knee. This has confused me as normally I would have some pain somewhere. This time relatively pain free. I did wear compression socks the next day, but my legs and feet were already pretty good. So what happened?
I am thinking it was the intervals Bob and I did. I wonder if running 1 minute and walking 1 minute made less of an impact on my feet, thereby not causing as much pain? Anyone with more science knowledge want to weigh in on that?
Now I wait for me knee to heal. It is more stiff than painful this morning, and that's a good sign.
Charlie
The pain I suffered happened later that night at dinner. I got up funny from a chair I was sitting in. I stood up too fast, and began to turn to the right quickly, and I tweaked my knee. Now that has been painful for a couple of days. The rest of my body - nothing.
In fact the day after the race the only thing hurting was that knee. This has confused me as normally I would have some pain somewhere. This time relatively pain free. I did wear compression socks the next day, but my legs and feet were already pretty good. So what happened?
I am thinking it was the intervals Bob and I did. I wonder if running 1 minute and walking 1 minute made less of an impact on my feet, thereby not causing as much pain? Anyone with more science knowledge want to weigh in on that?
Now I wait for me knee to heal. It is more stiff than painful this morning, and that's a good sign.
Charlie
Monday, November 05, 2012
Lessons Learned From The Monumental
As with any race there are lessons we take. The Monumental Weekend was no exception.
1) A kitchen timer helps. Bob and I agreed to varying intervals during the race, and he had a timer to let us know when to run and when to walk. I found that beep helped, and I looked at my watch less. I will have to look into getting one for future races.
2) Cold and wet weather means the arthritis bothers me in the feet. The rest of my body felt fine, but my feet hurt in the places where the Arthritis lives. Normally I am sore at the end, that kind of soreness kicked in much earlier, and got worse when the sleet came down.
3) It's tough to do back to back races in a month. How do these race everyday/week/month people do it?
4) No where near ready for a marathon.
5) I need more longer runs in my routine. In looking at the Garmin, my pace was spot on for the first 6-7 miles - typical of my average run. Now I need to develop more longer runs.
6) Again I enjoy the Monumental. Great support. Great course. No chicken broth, but happy for the Jimmy Johns at the end.
7) The value of friends. Getting to meet Bob after all these years was a joy. We met the day before the race, and had coffee(of course). I can only compare this to when pen pals meet. They are meeting, yet they have known each other. We talked off and on during our 13.1 mile journey, though not anywhere near as much as some people we encountered, and we got to know each other even better. One thing which touched me a great deal. On Friday Bob gave me an early birthday present. I wasn't expecting anything, but when I opened it I was touched. He gave me a copy of John Steinbeck's "Travels With Charley." I loved this book as a boy. It was one of my favorite reads. Bob's wife Martha had drawn a cute cartoon which made me smile. Never underestimate the value of your friendships. These are the people who see you through the good and the bad. Bob got me through 13.1 miles, and cemented a friendship all a the same time.
8) Use caution when getting up from the table. After the race, Mark and I had dinner with our friends Kris and Mike and their family. At one point I got up from the table, twisted my knee, and have been in a lot of pain since. Ironically the rest of my body doesn't hurt. This will take a few days to heal. I have done this before. It's a nasty pain, and people think I need a walker. I don't.
9) What's next? If my knee will allow it I will run my birthday 5K one week from today. As for half #4, I an reconsidering that. I will work on getting to that point, but not sure if my body can do another half in a month's time again. We'll see.
10) No real lesson here - I love running.
Charlie
1) A kitchen timer helps. Bob and I agreed to varying intervals during the race, and he had a timer to let us know when to run and when to walk. I found that beep helped, and I looked at my watch less. I will have to look into getting one for future races.
2) Cold and wet weather means the arthritis bothers me in the feet. The rest of my body felt fine, but my feet hurt in the places where the Arthritis lives. Normally I am sore at the end, that kind of soreness kicked in much earlier, and got worse when the sleet came down.
3) It's tough to do back to back races in a month. How do these race everyday/week/month people do it?
4) No where near ready for a marathon.
5) I need more longer runs in my routine. In looking at the Garmin, my pace was spot on for the first 6-7 miles - typical of my average run. Now I need to develop more longer runs.
6) Again I enjoy the Monumental. Great support. Great course. No chicken broth, but happy for the Jimmy Johns at the end.
7) The value of friends. Getting to meet Bob after all these years was a joy. We met the day before the race, and had coffee(of course). I can only compare this to when pen pals meet. They are meeting, yet they have known each other. We talked off and on during our 13.1 mile journey, though not anywhere near as much as some people we encountered, and we got to know each other even better. One thing which touched me a great deal. On Friday Bob gave me an early birthday present. I wasn't expecting anything, but when I opened it I was touched. He gave me a copy of John Steinbeck's "Travels With Charley." I loved this book as a boy. It was one of my favorite reads. Bob's wife Martha had drawn a cute cartoon which made me smile. Never underestimate the value of your friendships. These are the people who see you through the good and the bad. Bob got me through 13.1 miles, and cemented a friendship all a the same time.
8) Use caution when getting up from the table. After the race, Mark and I had dinner with our friends Kris and Mike and their family. At one point I got up from the table, twisted my knee, and have been in a lot of pain since. Ironically the rest of my body doesn't hurt. This will take a few days to heal. I have done this before. It's a nasty pain, and people think I need a walker. I don't.
9) What's next? If my knee will allow it I will run my birthday 5K one week from today. As for half #4, I an reconsidering that. I will work on getting to that point, but not sure if my body can do another half in a month's time again. We'll see.
10) No real lesson here - I love running.
Charlie
Saturday, November 03, 2012
Monumental Marathon: Running with Pennsy to Cheers of "Go Irish"
A cold cloudy morning greeted runners in Indianapolis at the Monumental Marathon and Half Marathon. The chilly temps hovered around 30 degrees at the start of the race. Today was a treat as I was joined by my friend Bob, or as he is known in the virtual world - Pennsy. I have known Bob for over a decade via The Motley Fool/Facebook, but we have never met. He lives down in Kentucky, not far. Still we have never met until this weekend.
Bob, Mark and I gathered pre-dawn and walked from the City Market to the start line. We did make a detour and got warm in a hotel lobby(Thank you Westin). After a couple of pictures taken, Bob and I headed to the start area.
There weren't any signs up to say where the pace corrals were. So we took our chances and picked what we thought was the middle. Truth be told, it was probably the 10:00-11:00 min/mile pace group. No worries. If people zipped past us it didn't matter.
The race started with little fanfare(lack of good sound equipment). We were off. Bob and I had a plan, and a timer. We would run 5 minutes and walk 1 minute. As the race got into the later stages we would make some changes. Not much talking at the start of the race - we were about the business of getting it done.
The race went well in these early stages. Timer would go off, we would run. Timer would go off we would walk. We were on pace for the first 4 miles for a 3:15 finish. We were loose and running easy. The chats we had were about what other people were wearing. There were running kilts, tutus, sequined skirts, and the women wore.....just kidding. There was also some guy wearing a Notre Dame shirt. Oddly enough this guy drew quite a bit of cheers from the crowd of, "Go Irish!"
As the race went on, Bob suggested we go to a 4/1 interval. I was fine with that as I was slowing down some. Bob was ahead by a bit, but on our walk breaks I would be up with him, and we chatted about life, running, and how cold we were. Bob had cold hands, even with gloves. I was gloveless and was fine until later in the race.
The cold was affecting my feet. I was stiff early in my ankles and feet. Arthritis is a nasty thing. Add insult to injury, the later the race went, a snowy rain started. Now my feet were really hurting. It affected how I ran. I made smaller steps, as the road felt slick. One guy from the crowd yelled I might be faster if I took larger steps. Bob pointed out he could probably run if he lost 200 lbs.
Around mile 7 or 8 the decision was made to go 1/1 intervals. I was happy with that. My feet were hurting, and the walking was better for me. Meanwhile, we were enjoying the city. Bob and I talked about the cool houses we were seeing, the interesting architecture, and the people out to cheer us on. There were lots of high school kids volunteering and cheering. They did a great job, and we let them know it.
At mile 12 all I wanted was the finish line. Bob was so good to keep me going. He was nothing but encouraging. The last few miles we were running with the marathoners. So it was great to see how they were doing.
As we neared about a 1/2 mile, I turned to Bob, and asked him if he was ready to finish this. He was, and we pushed on. The crowds were larger. The cheers of "Go Irish!" were more frequent, and very encouraging. Bob and I hung with each other every step of the way. As we rounded the final corner, we could see the finish line. Before crossing it, Bob reached his hand out, and we crossed the line together hands clasped. Mark was beaming when he met up with us. All was good.
Running with Bob was an absolute joy. When I needed encouragement, he was there. He didn't leave me in the dust. He said we would run together and we did. It may not have been the fastest race either of us every had, but it was a darned good time. Proud to have Bob as my friend, and I would run a race with him any time. I have been invited to Kentucky to run a race with him. I told him he would need to eliminate some hills in his area. Evidently that is not an easy thing to do.
The final time was 3:32:29. Not zippy, but with the pain I was in, I will take it. A good day in Indy!
Charlie
Bob, Mark and I gathered pre-dawn and walked from the City Market to the start line. We did make a detour and got warm in a hotel lobby(Thank you Westin). After a couple of pictures taken, Bob and I headed to the start area.
There weren't any signs up to say where the pace corrals were. So we took our chances and picked what we thought was the middle. Truth be told, it was probably the 10:00-11:00 min/mile pace group. No worries. If people zipped past us it didn't matter.
The race started with little fanfare(lack of good sound equipment). We were off. Bob and I had a plan, and a timer. We would run 5 minutes and walk 1 minute. As the race got into the later stages we would make some changes. Not much talking at the start of the race - we were about the business of getting it done.
The race went well in these early stages. Timer would go off, we would run. Timer would go off we would walk. We were on pace for the first 4 miles for a 3:15 finish. We were loose and running easy. The chats we had were about what other people were wearing. There were running kilts, tutus, sequined skirts, and the women wore.....just kidding. There was also some guy wearing a Notre Dame shirt. Oddly enough this guy drew quite a bit of cheers from the crowd of, "Go Irish!"
As the race went on, Bob suggested we go to a 4/1 interval. I was fine with that as I was slowing down some. Bob was ahead by a bit, but on our walk breaks I would be up with him, and we chatted about life, running, and how cold we were. Bob had cold hands, even with gloves. I was gloveless and was fine until later in the race.
The cold was affecting my feet. I was stiff early in my ankles and feet. Arthritis is a nasty thing. Add insult to injury, the later the race went, a snowy rain started. Now my feet were really hurting. It affected how I ran. I made smaller steps, as the road felt slick. One guy from the crowd yelled I might be faster if I took larger steps. Bob pointed out he could probably run if he lost 200 lbs.
Around mile 7 or 8 the decision was made to go 1/1 intervals. I was happy with that. My feet were hurting, and the walking was better for me. Meanwhile, we were enjoying the city. Bob and I talked about the cool houses we were seeing, the interesting architecture, and the people out to cheer us on. There were lots of high school kids volunteering and cheering. They did a great job, and we let them know it.
At mile 12 all I wanted was the finish line. Bob was so good to keep me going. He was nothing but encouraging. The last few miles we were running with the marathoners. So it was great to see how they were doing.
As we neared about a 1/2 mile, I turned to Bob, and asked him if he was ready to finish this. He was, and we pushed on. The crowds were larger. The cheers of "Go Irish!" were more frequent, and very encouraging. Bob and I hung with each other every step of the way. As we rounded the final corner, we could see the finish line. Before crossing it, Bob reached his hand out, and we crossed the line together hands clasped. Mark was beaming when he met up with us. All was good.Running with Bob was an absolute joy. When I needed encouragement, he was there. He didn't leave me in the dust. He said we would run together and we did. It may not have been the fastest race either of us every had, but it was a darned good time. Proud to have Bob as my friend, and I would run a race with him any time. I have been invited to Kentucky to run a race with him. I told him he would need to eliminate some hills in his area. Evidently that is not an easy thing to do.
The final time was 3:32:29. Not zippy, but with the pain I was in, I will take it. A good day in Indy!
Charlie
Friday, November 02, 2012
The Road to Virginia Beach Begins
Yesterday, November 1 was the beginning of my training for the Shamrock Marathon., my 2013 marathon.
http://www.shamrockmarathon.com
The start of training is always exciting, because you don't know what the adventure will be. Oh sure, you know the end result is 26.2 miles, but the exciting part is what are you going to learn about yourself, not only during the training, but through the whole experience.
I already know what needs to be done. I just need to do it. The challenge for me will be running through the winter. I am not a snow and ice guy, so this will be a bit tricky for me. Still I am confident I can get the miles in.
The race promises to be fun. Looks like a few of my Motley Fool friends will be running it as well. The Motley Fool has been part of my life for 12 years.
www.fool.com
Yes, it is a financial website, but it is such an amazing community of people. I learn something everyday from the people I encounter on that site. Disclosure....I am a former TMF employee.
So now the new journey starts. It began with a 4 mile run, will continue with two half marathons, and will end along the shores of the Atlantic Ocean. Let's get running!
Charlie
http://www.shamrockmarathon.com
The start of training is always exciting, because you don't know what the adventure will be. Oh sure, you know the end result is 26.2 miles, but the exciting part is what are you going to learn about yourself, not only during the training, but through the whole experience.
I already know what needs to be done. I just need to do it. The challenge for me will be running through the winter. I am not a snow and ice guy, so this will be a bit tricky for me. Still I am confident I can get the miles in.
The race promises to be fun. Looks like a few of my Motley Fool friends will be running it as well. The Motley Fool has been part of my life for 12 years.
www.fool.com
Yes, it is a financial website, but it is such an amazing community of people. I learn something everyday from the people I encounter on that site. Disclosure....I am a former TMF employee.
So now the new journey starts. It began with a 4 mile run, will continue with two half marathons, and will end along the shores of the Atlantic Ocean. Let's get running!
Charlie
Thursday, November 01, 2012
Monumental Weekend
The packet has been picked up. The last run has been done. Now all I do is run the race Saturday morning. Yes, it's time for the Monumental Half Marathon. This is half #3 this year. I feel pretty good, despite the lack of serious running since the Cowbell.
I am not alone in this race. Pennsy will be running with me. I have shared his story before. I am glad to finally meet my virtual friend this weekend. The race should be an adventure.
The plan....well the plan is to finish, and if I can do 3:15 I will be happy. The weather is forecast to be cold and a possible shower. Yippie! Rain, my running arch nemesis. We will see how it all plays out.
I have run this race previously. I have run the full marathon. Still one of my favorite races, and my marathon PR. The half I ran with Mark last year, but was not able to finish. This year I will finish.
Tomorrow people will come into the store for last minute items and advice. My best advice is dress in layers, prepare for the weather, and trust the training.
Charlie
I am not alone in this race. Pennsy will be running with me. I have shared his story before. I am glad to finally meet my virtual friend this weekend. The race should be an adventure.
The plan....well the plan is to finish, and if I can do 3:15 I will be happy. The weather is forecast to be cold and a possible shower. Yippie! Rain, my running arch nemesis. We will see how it all plays out.
I have run this race previously. I have run the full marathon. Still one of my favorite races, and my marathon PR. The half I ran with Mark last year, but was not able to finish. This year I will finish.
Tomorrow people will come into the store for last minute items and advice. My best advice is dress in layers, prepare for the weather, and trust the training.
Charlie
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Working in a Running Store Myths
Many of my running friends think the job I have is wonderful(which it is), but they sometimes I have an impression of how things play out that I would like to address. These are some of the myths I have encountered in my running specialty career.
1) You run all the time. Contrary to popular belief I don't run all the time. In fact I have to really plan when I can run. Working in a running store full time, means you work full time. When I can run, it's a joy.
2) You get free shoes. Well this is true, but it's not what you think. Sometimes we are given shoes to test. Sometimes we can keep them. Sometimes they want them back. My staff on average gets 2 pairs of shoes in a year. We do try to make sure when there are shoes that it goes through a process, and not some vendor rep handing over shoes. We want to be fair to everyone, and all the brands.
3) You get to run in all the races. A gentleman was upset with me a month ago, because he assumed running stores get free entries to all the races. He actually asked me if he could have one of "our entries" to the Disney World Marathon. I told him we didn't have any, and that wasn't how it works. He got pretty angry with me, and almost accused me of lying. The truth is a store may be given some entries for races they help sponsor, but that is for employees only, and it isn't a usual thing.
4) You have fun all day long. Well....it is still work. It is fun work though. We don't play all day long though.
5) Do you make the shoes? Yes you read this correctly. I am asked a couple times a year if we make the running shoes. People sometimes mistake a custom fit, for custom made. No, we don't make the shoes in a running store. Those are made in China for the most part.
6) You must love working in a running store. This is no myth. This is the truth. I do love what I do. I love working with runners of all abilities. I love talking running and living running. The good news is so do all the people in the stores.
Charlie
1) You run all the time. Contrary to popular belief I don't run all the time. In fact I have to really plan when I can run. Working in a running store full time, means you work full time. When I can run, it's a joy.
2) You get free shoes. Well this is true, but it's not what you think. Sometimes we are given shoes to test. Sometimes we can keep them. Sometimes they want them back. My staff on average gets 2 pairs of shoes in a year. We do try to make sure when there are shoes that it goes through a process, and not some vendor rep handing over shoes. We want to be fair to everyone, and all the brands.
3) You get to run in all the races. A gentleman was upset with me a month ago, because he assumed running stores get free entries to all the races. He actually asked me if he could have one of "our entries" to the Disney World Marathon. I told him we didn't have any, and that wasn't how it works. He got pretty angry with me, and almost accused me of lying. The truth is a store may be given some entries for races they help sponsor, but that is for employees only, and it isn't a usual thing.
4) You have fun all day long. Well....it is still work. It is fun work though. We don't play all day long though.
5) Do you make the shoes? Yes you read this correctly. I am asked a couple times a year if we make the running shoes. People sometimes mistake a custom fit, for custom made. No, we don't make the shoes in a running store. Those are made in China for the most part.
6) You must love working in a running store. This is no myth. This is the truth. I do love what I do. I love working with runners of all abilities. I love talking running and living running. The good news is so do all the people in the stores.
Charlie
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Countdown to 50: Travel
I have been known to have some odd collections in my life. I have collected elephants, cows, British Royal memorabilia to name a few. My first collection was the one though which led me on adventure after adventure - travel brochures.
Yes, I was an odd child. I mean really, what kid would go from travel agency to travel agency and collect travel brochures? I did. Now there was nothing special about the brochures, other than they had pictures and descriptions of places around the world. I also read any atlas I could find, and could spend hour after hour looking at pictures of slides of travels my parents took. The brochures were a part of my lifetime love affair with travel.
As a small boy, I remember my parents and brother coming home from Europe with stories of their trip, souvenirs for me, and of course, I would get the postcards. My earliest souvenir is one I still have today; a music box of a Swiss home. I love it.
My dad would bring out the large screen and show slide after slide of the places they saw. I would ask him to slow down so he and my mom could go over every detail of what I was seeing. Mom was better at the travel description than dad.
I was geeky enough that my parents would take me to St. Mary's College for a series of travelogues. People would show pictures and talk about their travels and adventures. Talks on Mexico, Germany, Japan, or some other exotic land fascinated me.
The travel brochures would allow me to dream. I would display them on our piano. Sometimes I would play travel agent, and plan trips. Sometimes I would pretend I was going on a trip, and I just had to plan. No doubt my parents were sure I was crazy. Well...at least my dad. Mom understood.
In my youth I got to go on various trips with my parents. They took me to New York City, San Francisco, Miami, Key West, Provincetown, Los Angeles....yes, and still they wondered why I was gay. Go figure.
In high school I got to go on my first trip abroad - London. Mom had a teacher friend who was taking a class to London. I was fortunate enough to be able to go. Mom packed my suitcase, and let me tell you that was the last time she did. I got to London, unpacked my bag and was horrified. I immediately called home. I woke up mom, and told her to go into my room and tell me what was in there. A few minutes later she came back to the phone and said, "What are you doing in London without pants?" She didn't pack any of my pants. All I had was the pants on me. Because I was a strange size, I couldn't find pants that fit. I made sure I kept my pants clean all week.
Pants aside, I was in heaven. I got to see all the things I had read about. The Tower of London and the Crown Jewels, Windsor Castle, Shakespeare's home, Oxford, the West End, and Harrod's were just some of the amazing sites I saw. The highlight of the trip, I was riding on the Tube when a punk rocker with pins in his face told me he loved my hair. He told me I was punk. The kid with the freaky white streak was finally cool. I just had to wait for the right place and time.
My parents have been all over the world. They have been to every continent, but Antarctica. Each trip brought new stories, pictures, souvenirs, and more encouragement that I needed to travel. As I mentioned my mom understood my desire to see the world. She instilled in me that this is my world, and all I have to do is go see it. See it I have.
That trip to London was the first of many adventures. My big trip to Europe was 1994. My last elective in college was studying in Rome for the summer. Before I headed to campus, I traveled around the continent. I made it to Paris, the city I had dreamed about all my life. I wasn't disappointed. The Eiffel Tower was stunning. The Louvre didn't disappoint. The food was amazing, and the people were snobby, but I could throw some attitude, and I got along fine.
From Paris I stopped in Brussels. After quickly learning that there is little to do there, one to Amsterdam. Amsterdam is known for two things - the "coffee" houses and the sex trade. My best friend Marshall dared me to go to a house of boys(a bit more descrete than the women in the windows). Let's just say the name Luc has special meaning for me now. :-) From Amsterdam back to Paris, where I got to have BBQ with friends I made at the youth hostel.
In Italy I got to see all of Rome. While historically important, Rome didn't do much for me. Florence was amazing, but Venice was the place of magic. I felt I was transported into another world. Canals and princely palaces looked amazing to me. My most special moment was waking up one morning and venturing outside. The sun wasn't up yet, and I had Venice all to myself. No tourists were out, just some fishermen heading out for the day. I was in heaven.
My goal in travel has always been to see the things I wanted to see as a boy. Travel fulfills my childhood dreams and my desire to learn about the world. I have sipped wine in the wilds of Africa. I have climbed the 268 steps to reach Big Buddha in Hong Kong. I have spent the night at Mont St. Michel - the monastery surrounded by the English Channel. I have seen the amazing work of Gaudi. I have spent a New Year's Eve in a small cafe in Paris. I have traversed around Ireland. I have helped with research on coffee in Costa Rica. I have been to the Olympics. I have walked through the gardens which so inspired Monet I have zip lined at Whistler Mountain. I have dined in a drag restaurant in Barcelona. I have stood a mere inches from the Mona Lisa. I have swum in the Bahamas. I have visited over 40 states. I have met people in this world I still call my friends. I have learned from every place I have visited, and always shown appreciation to the people whose lands I saw.
My favorite places have been(in no order): Paris, Galway, Cape Town, London, Dublin, Barcelona, Vancouver, Portland, San Francisco, New York, Montreal.
I was blessed to work for Southwest Airlines, which allowed me to see so much of the country and world. There is something amazing about the ability to hop on a plane and have lunch in New Orleans and then come home.
The boy who dreamed of seeing the world and collected brochures is still as curious about the world as ever. My mom was right, this IS my world, and I have every intention of seeing as much of it as I can.
Charlie
Yes, I was an odd child. I mean really, what kid would go from travel agency to travel agency and collect travel brochures? I did. Now there was nothing special about the brochures, other than they had pictures and descriptions of places around the world. I also read any atlas I could find, and could spend hour after hour looking at pictures of slides of travels my parents took. The brochures were a part of my lifetime love affair with travel.
As a small boy, I remember my parents and brother coming home from Europe with stories of their trip, souvenirs for me, and of course, I would get the postcards. My earliest souvenir is one I still have today; a music box of a Swiss home. I love it.
My dad would bring out the large screen and show slide after slide of the places they saw. I would ask him to slow down so he and my mom could go over every detail of what I was seeing. Mom was better at the travel description than dad.
I was geeky enough that my parents would take me to St. Mary's College for a series of travelogues. People would show pictures and talk about their travels and adventures. Talks on Mexico, Germany, Japan, or some other exotic land fascinated me.
The travel brochures would allow me to dream. I would display them on our piano. Sometimes I would play travel agent, and plan trips. Sometimes I would pretend I was going on a trip, and I just had to plan. No doubt my parents were sure I was crazy. Well...at least my dad. Mom understood.
In my youth I got to go on various trips with my parents. They took me to New York City, San Francisco, Miami, Key West, Provincetown, Los Angeles....yes, and still they wondered why I was gay. Go figure.
In high school I got to go on my first trip abroad - London. Mom had a teacher friend who was taking a class to London. I was fortunate enough to be able to go. Mom packed my suitcase, and let me tell you that was the last time she did. I got to London, unpacked my bag and was horrified. I immediately called home. I woke up mom, and told her to go into my room and tell me what was in there. A few minutes later she came back to the phone and said, "What are you doing in London without pants?" She didn't pack any of my pants. All I had was the pants on me. Because I was a strange size, I couldn't find pants that fit. I made sure I kept my pants clean all week.
Pants aside, I was in heaven. I got to see all the things I had read about. The Tower of London and the Crown Jewels, Windsor Castle, Shakespeare's home, Oxford, the West End, and Harrod's were just some of the amazing sites I saw. The highlight of the trip, I was riding on the Tube when a punk rocker with pins in his face told me he loved my hair. He told me I was punk. The kid with the freaky white streak was finally cool. I just had to wait for the right place and time.
My parents have been all over the world. They have been to every continent, but Antarctica. Each trip brought new stories, pictures, souvenirs, and more encouragement that I needed to travel. As I mentioned my mom understood my desire to see the world. She instilled in me that this is my world, and all I have to do is go see it. See it I have.
That trip to London was the first of many adventures. My big trip to Europe was 1994. My last elective in college was studying in Rome for the summer. Before I headed to campus, I traveled around the continent. I made it to Paris, the city I had dreamed about all my life. I wasn't disappointed. The Eiffel Tower was stunning. The Louvre didn't disappoint. The food was amazing, and the people were snobby, but I could throw some attitude, and I got along fine.
From Paris I stopped in Brussels. After quickly learning that there is little to do there, one to Amsterdam. Amsterdam is known for two things - the "coffee" houses and the sex trade. My best friend Marshall dared me to go to a house of boys(a bit more descrete than the women in the windows). Let's just say the name Luc has special meaning for me now. :-) From Amsterdam back to Paris, where I got to have BBQ with friends I made at the youth hostel.
In Italy I got to see all of Rome. While historically important, Rome didn't do much for me. Florence was amazing, but Venice was the place of magic. I felt I was transported into another world. Canals and princely palaces looked amazing to me. My most special moment was waking up one morning and venturing outside. The sun wasn't up yet, and I had Venice all to myself. No tourists were out, just some fishermen heading out for the day. I was in heaven.
My goal in travel has always been to see the things I wanted to see as a boy. Travel fulfills my childhood dreams and my desire to learn about the world. I have sipped wine in the wilds of Africa. I have climbed the 268 steps to reach Big Buddha in Hong Kong. I have spent the night at Mont St. Michel - the monastery surrounded by the English Channel. I have seen the amazing work of Gaudi. I have spent a New Year's Eve in a small cafe in Paris. I have traversed around Ireland. I have helped with research on coffee in Costa Rica. I have been to the Olympics. I have walked through the gardens which so inspired Monet I have zip lined at Whistler Mountain. I have dined in a drag restaurant in Barcelona. I have stood a mere inches from the Mona Lisa. I have swum in the Bahamas. I have visited over 40 states. I have met people in this world I still call my friends. I have learned from every place I have visited, and always shown appreciation to the people whose lands I saw.
My favorite places have been(in no order): Paris, Galway, Cape Town, London, Dublin, Barcelona, Vancouver, Portland, San Francisco, New York, Montreal.
I was blessed to work for Southwest Airlines, which allowed me to see so much of the country and world. There is something amazing about the ability to hop on a plane and have lunch in New Orleans and then come home.
The boy who dreamed of seeing the world and collected brochures is still as curious about the world as ever. My mom was right, this IS my world, and I have every intention of seeing as much of it as I can.
Charlie
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Last Training Run
Well not for me.....today was the last training run for the runners I have been working with since June. I ran with the group this morning, which consisted of three ladies and me. It was a 45 minute run, not long at all. Of course the ladies went ahead of me, and I did my routine run.
I have only run a couple times this week. Work and Mark's schedule have made finding time to run a problem. I'm not upset about it though. I'm happy with my running. Feeling good. I'll take that at this point.
Today though was about the training group. The only thing that bothers me is how few people have come out on Saturday's to run. 80 people were registered for the program. For the first month and a half we averaged 20-25 people each week. As races have come and gone, that has whittled down. So I feel a bit bad that most people have gone, but the three I have run with have come almost every week, and they are a blast!
So now I focus more on my running this week. The Monumental Half Marathon looms next weekend.
Charlie
I have only run a couple times this week. Work and Mark's schedule have made finding time to run a problem. I'm not upset about it though. I'm happy with my running. Feeling good. I'll take that at this point.
Today though was about the training group. The only thing that bothers me is how few people have come out on Saturday's to run. 80 people were registered for the program. For the first month and a half we averaged 20-25 people each week. As races have come and gone, that has whittled down. So I feel a bit bad that most people have gone, but the three I have run with have come almost every week, and they are a blast!
So now I focus more on my running this week. The Monumental Half Marathon looms next weekend.
Charlie
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Not in the Right Mind
Yesterday was not one of my better runs. I wasn't in a good frame of mind. You'd think the run would have helped but it didn't. I think we all have runs like that. Still I managed a 2.52 mile run.
Running with crap in your head is one of the hardest runs there is. You want to block out the crap, but sometimes you can't. The good news is....the next one can always be better. Shooting for a better run tomorrow.
Charlie
Running with crap in your head is one of the hardest runs there is. You want to block out the crap, but sometimes you can't. The good news is....the next one can always be better. Shooting for a better run tomorrow.
Charlie
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Getting to be Coach
Back to a running theme.....
In a couple weeks I will be running the Monumental Half Marathon, but I am also a coach for the race. This morning four of my runners headed out for a short 60-70 minute run. The long training is coming to end for a good many area runners. Today was the Indianapolis Half and Full Marathon. I had runners out there today as well. At the start of the training program, we had about 80 runners. No....it isn't down to 4, but that is who showed up today.
Today I talked about the taper, and the importance of having faith in the program. A training program brings you to a certain point, and then you have to believe it did what is was supposed to do. Whether you are training for a time, or simply to finish, you have to know that the plan you used was designed to help you. You have no control over the weather on race day, or what other may do around you. You have to know what your plan is, and remember to improvise if you need to.
All 4 runners understood what I told them, headed out, and each of them came back telling me how good they felt. Now they taper.
In the meantime I have a longish run this week, just I can make sure I am doing well with my training.
It's good to be da coach.
Charlie
In a couple weeks I will be running the Monumental Half Marathon, but I am also a coach for the race. This morning four of my runners headed out for a short 60-70 minute run. The long training is coming to end for a good many area runners. Today was the Indianapolis Half and Full Marathon. I had runners out there today as well. At the start of the training program, we had about 80 runners. No....it isn't down to 4, but that is who showed up today.
Today I talked about the taper, and the importance of having faith in the program. A training program brings you to a certain point, and then you have to believe it did what is was supposed to do. Whether you are training for a time, or simply to finish, you have to know that the plan you used was designed to help you. You have no control over the weather on race day, or what other may do around you. You have to know what your plan is, and remember to improvise if you need to.
All 4 runners understood what I told them, headed out, and each of them came back telling me how good they felt. Now they taper.
In the meantime I have a longish run this week, just I can make sure I am doing well with my training.
It's good to be da coach.
Charlie
Friday, October 19, 2012
Countdown to 50: The 1980s Part 2
In my last post, I wrote an account of the rape I endured in 1984. I mentioned that things would get better. Sometimes in order for things to get better, we have to go further down, and hit rock bottom. The downward spiral got worse the following year.
After a series of anonymous sex episodes, I went to get an HIV test. I, like so many of us back then, thought HIV/AIDS happened far away. It didn't happen in Indiana. Still being the good gay, I went to get tested to confirm, I too was negative. I wasn't. The test turned out to be positive. With a positive test, you took a follow-up test to see if it is a false positive result. Waiting for the second test was the longest two weeks ever.
The nurse told me I was positive. In 1985, there weren't the support groups, services, or anything which helped those who tested positive. There was AZT, the drug which waited for a disease. It was toxic, and the drug did more harm to the body than anything you could imagine. I refused to take it.
At this point I told my mother about the rape and the HIV status. She told me it just wasn't true. Denial is a pretty powerful thing. She told me she loved me, but I could see the pain she went through. I had not told her I was gay yet, and somehow 2+2 did not = 4 for her yet. I got booted from school. The depression was pretty bad and class wasn't something I wanted to really go to.
In a period of darkness, I found a lot of joy working at Bradford Woods in the summers of 1985 and 1986. I was a counselor for kids with special needs. I loved those kids, and they loved me. I thought when I went back to school I might go for a degree in Special Education. At this time I also worked at the Indiana Repertory Theatre. I worked in the box office and enjoyed it, but I wanted to get back to school. I headed back to Indiana University.
1987-1988 would be the turning point. I had lived for two years with no symptoms of HIV, and I took another test. I was negative. I test again, I was negative. I test a third time, I was negative. Every test since then has been negative. What should have been a joyous moment wasn't. For two years I was depressed and ready to die. Now in my mind I was being cheated out that.
Some circumstances with a guy I had a crush on lead me to a fateful night in April, 1988, where I spent a late night downing about 200 sleeping pills and a gallon of wine. Welcome to rock bottom friends. This was where I found myself. Rock bottom was pathetic me, crying, trying to kill myself, when all of a sudden I drop a couple of the pills. My dachshund, Fred came out to the patio where I was, and was sniffing at the pills. In my panic to make sure he didn't take a pill, it was the moment I realized what I was doing, and how I didn't want to die. Call it coincidence, call it divine intervention, Fred coming out to investigate the pills was my wake up call. I called friends who came to take me to the ER. Of course they chewed me out the entire way there.
The ER was a series of horrors, funny moments, and being in and out of consciousness. I kept thinking how funny it was that people kept asking me what I was there for that night, when I kept saying, "Do none of you talk to each other? I've told every nurse I tried to kill myself and now I want to live."
I took some medicine, and under threat of stomach pumping, I began to throw up. It wasn't pretty. The psychiatrist on duty advised me I could stay the night in the psychiatric ward, but he couldn't guarantee my safety. I opted to go home. I was given liquid charcoal, and told not to throw that up. When I got home, I threw up in the toilet, and spent the rest of the night crying and cleaning the toilet.
The next day I packed up the car, got the dog, and we went to my family's cottage on Lake Michigan. I wanted to be alone and think things through. I called my mom, who told me what I had done was silly and never to do it again. Thanks mom! The few days at the cottage were important to me. I realized I was not a healthy gay man. I didn't know gay people. I wasn't making friends, and I needed a new direction in life. It came.
Fall of 1988 I was encouraged by my friend Jeff to go to a meeting of OUT. IU's gay and lesbian student group. I walked in, didn't know a soul, and just stood around. After a while, I was approached by a man I knew at first sight. It was the man who raped me. He came up to me, told me I was cute, and I looked familiar. Had we met before?
I looked him in the eyes, and told him no. My heart was racing a mile a minute. Here was the man who had made my life a living HELL 4 years earlier, and now he is hitting on me, and didn't know what he did to me. I ran out of the room, and headed to the library to see Jeff.
I told him what happened, and that I never wanted to go back to OUT. He told me I had to, or that man would have power over me forever. I did go back. Three meetings later I was elected OUT's first president.
My life would be changed forever with this. My fellow officers and friends Chad B, Nora, Heather Jeff, Joe, Grant, Chad F and I started something pretty special for the LGBT community at Indiana University. Some of the things we accomplished during my time with OUT and with the student government:
Working with the university to include sexual orientation in its anti-discriminatory policies
Created Gay Pride Week
Brought the NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt to the state of Indiana for the first time
Created Miss Gay IU
Laid the foundation for works towards a gay and lesbian support center on campus
While those were wonderful things, they served a larger purpose. LGBT people needed to be part of the overall community. Awareness of who we are was the start. IU has never looked back since then. LGBT students may not know this now, but almost everything they have on campus started with that group back in 1988.
My rape, depression and HIV status taught me how we need to have a voice and be strong. We are everywhere. Living in the closet and being afraid is never going to help you. I was an activist. I came out to my parents, and while there were issues there, I felt free. The truth does set you free.
I had been to Hell and now I was back. When I look back at everything before 1988, I see a pretty sad person, who could not come to grips with who he was. I came out of the 1980s a strong person, fighting for justice, being more assured of my life, and never willing to EVER go back to the person I had been.
If you do go through hard and difficult times, know there are people in this world who love and support you. I owe a lot to wonderful people like Kris, Lisa, Jan, Jen, Marshall, Jeff, Joe, Laura, Ted, Tina, and so many others. I don't want anyone upset if I didn't mention them, but my friends were my rock.
The happy ending is I found what I was made of, and I was much stronger than I could have imagined. When things feel bad, or go downhill these days, I remember what it was like, and I know I am not close to that, nor will I ever be at rock bottom.
Be strong my friends. Be true to yourself. Be proud of yourself.
Charlie
After a series of anonymous sex episodes, I went to get an HIV test. I, like so many of us back then, thought HIV/AIDS happened far away. It didn't happen in Indiana. Still being the good gay, I went to get tested to confirm, I too was negative. I wasn't. The test turned out to be positive. With a positive test, you took a follow-up test to see if it is a false positive result. Waiting for the second test was the longest two weeks ever.
The nurse told me I was positive. In 1985, there weren't the support groups, services, or anything which helped those who tested positive. There was AZT, the drug which waited for a disease. It was toxic, and the drug did more harm to the body than anything you could imagine. I refused to take it.
At this point I told my mother about the rape and the HIV status. She told me it just wasn't true. Denial is a pretty powerful thing. She told me she loved me, but I could see the pain she went through. I had not told her I was gay yet, and somehow 2+2 did not = 4 for her yet. I got booted from school. The depression was pretty bad and class wasn't something I wanted to really go to.
In a period of darkness, I found a lot of joy working at Bradford Woods in the summers of 1985 and 1986. I was a counselor for kids with special needs. I loved those kids, and they loved me. I thought when I went back to school I might go for a degree in Special Education. At this time I also worked at the Indiana Repertory Theatre. I worked in the box office and enjoyed it, but I wanted to get back to school. I headed back to Indiana University.
1987-1988 would be the turning point. I had lived for two years with no symptoms of HIV, and I took another test. I was negative. I test again, I was negative. I test a third time, I was negative. Every test since then has been negative. What should have been a joyous moment wasn't. For two years I was depressed and ready to die. Now in my mind I was being cheated out that.
Some circumstances with a guy I had a crush on lead me to a fateful night in April, 1988, where I spent a late night downing about 200 sleeping pills and a gallon of wine. Welcome to rock bottom friends. This was where I found myself. Rock bottom was pathetic me, crying, trying to kill myself, when all of a sudden I drop a couple of the pills. My dachshund, Fred came out to the patio where I was, and was sniffing at the pills. In my panic to make sure he didn't take a pill, it was the moment I realized what I was doing, and how I didn't want to die. Call it coincidence, call it divine intervention, Fred coming out to investigate the pills was my wake up call. I called friends who came to take me to the ER. Of course they chewed me out the entire way there.
The ER was a series of horrors, funny moments, and being in and out of consciousness. I kept thinking how funny it was that people kept asking me what I was there for that night, when I kept saying, "Do none of you talk to each other? I've told every nurse I tried to kill myself and now I want to live."
I took some medicine, and under threat of stomach pumping, I began to throw up. It wasn't pretty. The psychiatrist on duty advised me I could stay the night in the psychiatric ward, but he couldn't guarantee my safety. I opted to go home. I was given liquid charcoal, and told not to throw that up. When I got home, I threw up in the toilet, and spent the rest of the night crying and cleaning the toilet.
The next day I packed up the car, got the dog, and we went to my family's cottage on Lake Michigan. I wanted to be alone and think things through. I called my mom, who told me what I had done was silly and never to do it again. Thanks mom! The few days at the cottage were important to me. I realized I was not a healthy gay man. I didn't know gay people. I wasn't making friends, and I needed a new direction in life. It came.
Fall of 1988 I was encouraged by my friend Jeff to go to a meeting of OUT. IU's gay and lesbian student group. I walked in, didn't know a soul, and just stood around. After a while, I was approached by a man I knew at first sight. It was the man who raped me. He came up to me, told me I was cute, and I looked familiar. Had we met before?
I looked him in the eyes, and told him no. My heart was racing a mile a minute. Here was the man who had made my life a living HELL 4 years earlier, and now he is hitting on me, and didn't know what he did to me. I ran out of the room, and headed to the library to see Jeff.
I told him what happened, and that I never wanted to go back to OUT. He told me I had to, or that man would have power over me forever. I did go back. Three meetings later I was elected OUT's first president.
My life would be changed forever with this. My fellow officers and friends Chad B, Nora, Heather Jeff, Joe, Grant, Chad F and I started something pretty special for the LGBT community at Indiana University. Some of the things we accomplished during my time with OUT and with the student government:
Working with the university to include sexual orientation in its anti-discriminatory policies
Created Gay Pride Week
Brought the NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt to the state of Indiana for the first time
Created Miss Gay IU
Laid the foundation for works towards a gay and lesbian support center on campus
While those were wonderful things, they served a larger purpose. LGBT people needed to be part of the overall community. Awareness of who we are was the start. IU has never looked back since then. LGBT students may not know this now, but almost everything they have on campus started with that group back in 1988.
My rape, depression and HIV status taught me how we need to have a voice and be strong. We are everywhere. Living in the closet and being afraid is never going to help you. I was an activist. I came out to my parents, and while there were issues there, I felt free. The truth does set you free.
I had been to Hell and now I was back. When I look back at everything before 1988, I see a pretty sad person, who could not come to grips with who he was. I came out of the 1980s a strong person, fighting for justice, being more assured of my life, and never willing to EVER go back to the person I had been.
If you do go through hard and difficult times, know there are people in this world who love and support you. I owe a lot to wonderful people like Kris, Lisa, Jan, Jen, Marshall, Jeff, Joe, Laura, Ted, Tina, and so many others. I don't want anyone upset if I didn't mention them, but my friends were my rock.
The happy ending is I found what I was made of, and I was much stronger than I could have imagined. When things feel bad, or go downhill these days, I remember what it was like, and I know I am not close to that, nor will I ever be at rock bottom.
Be strong my friends. Be true to yourself. Be proud of yourself.
Charlie
Countdown to 50: The 1980s Part 1
We all have defining moments in our lives. Some are joyous. Some are tragic. Lord knows I've had my share of both. The moments though define and shape us based on how we proceed from them, or what we learned from them. What I'm about to describe is not pleasant, but I promise it ends well.
It was the summer of 1984. I was in summer school at Indiana University. I had been out for only a short time, so I knew next to nothing about being gay. What I did know was that I was lonely, and I wanted sex. I mean really, here I was 22, and I still hadn't had sex? Yikes!
Being gay then was not what it is like now. The closet for many had a big thick door. Pride parades were something you heard happened in New York or San Francisco. Bloomington, IN was known as the San Francisco of Indiana. Trust me - it is.
My only exposure to the gay life thus far was through someone I vaguely knew who took me to an Integrity "meeting." Integrity is a gay group of Episcopalians. I was scared walking in, as I knew no one(though I did encounter a guy I went to high school with later on in the evening - he ignored me). Sadly, the only other way to meet gay men was through anonymous sex.
There were spots on campus where you could hook up and have sex there, are head to someone's place for sex. I stumbled upon a cruising spot at the Union. It fascinated me, because I would see so many men always head to the same restroom. There was a lot of hooking up going on.
One day I took the leap and followed a guy to the rest room. He seemed like a nice guy. He seemed to like me, and really at that point, that was all that mattered. He invited me back to his place. My heart was beating faster than ever as we made our way to his place. All that excitement would soon vanish though once we got to his apartment.
When we got to his place, he changed. He was no longer this nice guy. Now he was creepy, rough, and he pulled out a knife. For what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was 30-40 minutes, I was raped. The knife was always present, and he kept tell me I had to do what he wanted if I wanted to leave. When it was over, he asked me how I liked "doing it" under a picture of Jesus.
My thoughts during this were to be calm, cooperate, and I could leave soon. I didn't want to die.
He talked about how the "next time" we would record it if that was ok with me. I told him whatever he wanted to hear if it meant I could leave. He told me I would have to stay in the apartment with him forever. Now I was really scared. Somehow, somewhere I got an idea. I said, "You know I have to meet some folks at the library to study in an hour, I really should go." He made me promise to "come back" after studying. I told him I would, and he let me leave.
I ran out of that building, tears forming, my hands shaking, my mind racing. I made it back to my dorm room, and cried for about an hour on my bed. Most people would have called the police. Most gay men who aren't out wouldn't. This would mean coming out. I never called the police. Instead I called the Episcopal priest from the meeting I went to. Wrong move.
When I got hold of him, he told me he was on his way to a party and couldn't talk. I explained what happened. Again, he told me about the party, but could I meet him the next day. I agreed. I spent the rest of the night on my bed crying.
During my meeting with him, he advised me not to go to the police. He told me I did nothing wrong, that this has happened to gay men before. I think he told me how sorry he was, but I never got a sense he truly was sorry. I was alone.
From this experience, I made many bad choices in my life. I drank more. I had more anonymous sex. I was a mess. Just when you think it couldn't get worse. It did.
In my next post I will talk about what happened next, and I promise things will look better.
Charlie
It was the summer of 1984. I was in summer school at Indiana University. I had been out for only a short time, so I knew next to nothing about being gay. What I did know was that I was lonely, and I wanted sex. I mean really, here I was 22, and I still hadn't had sex? Yikes!
Being gay then was not what it is like now. The closet for many had a big thick door. Pride parades were something you heard happened in New York or San Francisco. Bloomington, IN was known as the San Francisco of Indiana. Trust me - it is.
My only exposure to the gay life thus far was through someone I vaguely knew who took me to an Integrity "meeting." Integrity is a gay group of Episcopalians. I was scared walking in, as I knew no one(though I did encounter a guy I went to high school with later on in the evening - he ignored me). Sadly, the only other way to meet gay men was through anonymous sex.
There were spots on campus where you could hook up and have sex there, are head to someone's place for sex. I stumbled upon a cruising spot at the Union. It fascinated me, because I would see so many men always head to the same restroom. There was a lot of hooking up going on.
One day I took the leap and followed a guy to the rest room. He seemed like a nice guy. He seemed to like me, and really at that point, that was all that mattered. He invited me back to his place. My heart was beating faster than ever as we made our way to his place. All that excitement would soon vanish though once we got to his apartment.
When we got to his place, he changed. He was no longer this nice guy. Now he was creepy, rough, and he pulled out a knife. For what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was 30-40 minutes, I was raped. The knife was always present, and he kept tell me I had to do what he wanted if I wanted to leave. When it was over, he asked me how I liked "doing it" under a picture of Jesus.
My thoughts during this were to be calm, cooperate, and I could leave soon. I didn't want to die.
He talked about how the "next time" we would record it if that was ok with me. I told him whatever he wanted to hear if it meant I could leave. He told me I would have to stay in the apartment with him forever. Now I was really scared. Somehow, somewhere I got an idea. I said, "You know I have to meet some folks at the library to study in an hour, I really should go." He made me promise to "come back" after studying. I told him I would, and he let me leave.
I ran out of that building, tears forming, my hands shaking, my mind racing. I made it back to my dorm room, and cried for about an hour on my bed. Most people would have called the police. Most gay men who aren't out wouldn't. This would mean coming out. I never called the police. Instead I called the Episcopal priest from the meeting I went to. Wrong move.
When I got hold of him, he told me he was on his way to a party and couldn't talk. I explained what happened. Again, he told me about the party, but could I meet him the next day. I agreed. I spent the rest of the night on my bed crying.
During my meeting with him, he advised me not to go to the police. He told me I did nothing wrong, that this has happened to gay men before. I think he told me how sorry he was, but I never got a sense he truly was sorry. I was alone.
From this experience, I made many bad choices in my life. I drank more. I had more anonymous sex. I was a mess. Just when you think it couldn't get worse. It did.
In my next post I will talk about what happened next, and I promise things will look better.
Charlie
Thursday, October 18, 2012
The 5K Update
I am 25 days away from turning 50, and the Charlie's Turning 50 5K is still going to happen. I have not had great fundraising success. I will admit, I have not poured enough of myself into it. Work has gotten in the way - darn work. Some other things have changed. I will be running in Wisconsin, not New Orleans. I had thought we would be in the French Quarter for #50, but in the end, I wanted to be near family. I have had an emotional year, and I want to be around family. I have a bazillion cousins in Wisconsin, well maybe not that many. Trust me though, it's a clan. My cousin John, his lovely wife Ruth, and their family are incredible and I love them so much. My sister Anne and niece Sabrina will be with us, as will Mark, and Friday!! I am thrilled to be starting the next chapter of my life with all of them.
I still hope people will donate and run or walk with me. Marathon Kids does such a terrific job helping kids discover a healthy lifestyle. I wish there had been programs like that when I was young. My friend, and founder of Marathon Kids, Kay Morris is recovering from a stroke. I would like to dedicate my efforts to her, as she is a shining example of what people can do when they put their minds to it.
You can donate at http://www.crowdrise.com/CharliesTurning50
Please give and run with me.
Charlie
I still hope people will donate and run or walk with me. Marathon Kids does such a terrific job helping kids discover a healthy lifestyle. I wish there had been programs like that when I was young. My friend, and founder of Marathon Kids, Kay Morris is recovering from a stroke. I would like to dedicate my efforts to her, as she is a shining example of what people can do when they put their minds to it.
You can donate at http://www.crowdrise.com/CharliesTurning50
Please give and run with me.
Charlie
Monday, October 15, 2012
Back to Running
A week after the half marathon I hit the trail today running. Also battling the end of a cold, I pushed ahead and ran 3.6 miles today. It felt good to be out in the Fall weather running.
Leaves were on the ground aplenty as I ran of what seemed like a long, long trail of them. I loved it. Today's run wasn't about a time, or about an effort. This was just to get back out and run as I get ready for the Monumental Half Marathon in a few weeks. My pace 14:16 and it was all good.
Lots of folks on the Monon, mostly bike riders. I noticed none of them said, "On the left." Minor issue.
Thoughts on the run were about my life in Indy, and what I what to accomplish. Sorry, no major decisions today. I do feel like things are coming together in my head though.
Good run....looking forward to the next one.
Charlie
Leaves were on the ground aplenty as I ran of what seemed like a long, long trail of them. I loved it. Today's run wasn't about a time, or about an effort. This was just to get back out and run as I get ready for the Monumental Half Marathon in a few weeks. My pace 14:16 and it was all good.
Lots of folks on the Monon, mostly bike riders. I noticed none of them said, "On the left." Minor issue.
Thoughts on the run were about my life in Indy, and what I what to accomplish. Sorry, no major decisions today. I do feel like things are coming together in my head though.
Good run....looking forward to the next one.
Charlie
Friday, October 12, 2012
Countdown to 50: The Actor
I am one month away from turning 50, or as someone so gently told me today - half a century. As I head into the final days in my 40s, I will do some reflecting on my life to this point. Some will have to do with running. Some won't. Regardless, it should be an interesting countdown.
As some of you may know, I wanted to be an actor when I grew up. When I saw my first Academy Awards, I knew what I wanted to do. It consumed me.
We had a large basement in the house I lived in as a boy. The main room was my stage. We had a large oval rug, which was the stage. We had a large stereo system. For you kids in the audience, we listened to something called records. My first records were old 78s my mom let me listen to. I listened to the scratchy music of the musical "Oklahoma." My first LP was the original cast recording of "My Fair Lady." Rex Harrison and Julie Andrews taught me that the rain in Spain, stays mainly on the plain. The most intense album I ever listened to Broadway wise was "A Chorus Line." The masterpiece musical about the life of performers trying to get in a show.
Our basement was filled with "The Sound of Music," as I sang and danced and performed. I had patient parents. Very rarely was I told to keep it down. I would get my sister Anne to be part of some of my "shows." She was a good sport. My dad even built me a puppet stage, so yes, I could do my own version of "The Lonely Goat Herd."
In middle school I was in drama and music. Not too many people know this, but in drama class we had to develop a play, and performed for elementary kids. I think we had a fairy android in it, a dragon, and some dancing. This was also an early performance by future actor Dean Norris of AMC's Breaking Bad. I don't think he was the fairy android though.
In music, I performed with the Mini Singers. It was kind of a pre-swing or show choir for the middle school set. We did musicals as well. I seem to remember a fun time doing Gilbert and Sullivan's H.M.S. Pinafore. I was sailor #3 I think. :-)
High school was more devoted to the my singing. I was in Swing Choir. We performed all over the city. We always opened with the "Getting to Know You" from "The King and I." We would enter the room or performance hall from all sides, shaking hands with the audience, making our way to the stage. Guys would be dressed in powder blue tux-like jackets with ruffles and clip on bow ties. The girls wore SHORT dresses and white gloves. I loved the performances and the friends I made. Of course it was embarrassing when my mom made some of my Swing Choir friends and me perform for her friends("Oh MOM!!!")
I was in two musicals in high school, "Oklahoma" and "Plain and Fancy"(yeah I never heard of it either). In "Oklahoma" I played Ado Annie's Pa. My big number was "The Farmer and the Cowman." I loved the part, mostly because I got to say, "Who the HELL are you!"
Towards the end of high school, I got to go to the North Carolina School of the Arts in Winston-Salem, NC. If you have seen the film "Fame" you will have an inkling what my summers at NCSA were like. Yes there were classes ranging from fencing to tap dance to mask making to acting. There were also improv performances in the cafeteria, dances, and making some of the best friends I ever had. It was my last summer at NCSA when I came out. I kissed my first boy and thought, "WOW this is me." One of my oldest friends, Chris Runge, was the person I first told about my being gay. He was a great friend then, he is a great friend now. I love him so much.
Sadly, I was not accepted into NCSA for college. The critique of my audition was brutal. I was devastated for years, and I didn't act. I tried theatre in college, but I was too hurt by the rejection. Hindsight shows, that rejection is part of acting. If you can't take it, you shouldn't be in it.
Flash to the late 1990s. After my mother died, I thought a lot about regrets in life. I thought about my old dreams of acting. I decided I owed that dream one more try. I enrolled in classes at Second City in Chicago. Second City is an improv theatre which gave us the likes of John Bellushi, Gilda Radnor, Bill Murray, and most anyone who was funny in the mid to late 20th century.
I loved the classes. I worked hard, even though the classes were just for fun. One night, I was part of a midnight show on the stage at Second City. I developed an skit with a friend, and we performed it for the crowd. It was a take suggestions from the audience skit. It worked. I made people laugh. It was at that moment, I felt I accomplished what I wanted to. I had been on stage. I entertained people, and I made some folks laugh. I didn't need to do anything more.
I understand now I won't win my Oscar by the time I'm 50. What I did have in my life though, was a love and appreciation of the theatre. I made some wonderful friends, and I had some incredible experiences.
I am thankful to my parents for allowing me to explore my creativity. I am so glad they took me to Chicago to see plays and musicals. I still think a highlight was to go to Chicago and see the great Katherine Hepburn in "The West Side Waltz." Horrible play, but wow she was amazing.
I am thankful for the people who taught me Shakespeare, Ibsen, Sondheim, Rogers and Hammerstein, Moliere, Brecht, Simon(Neil and Mel), and so many great playwrights and composers. I may not have become an actor, but I became a more rounded person.
Charlie
As some of you may know, I wanted to be an actor when I grew up. When I saw my first Academy Awards, I knew what I wanted to do. It consumed me.
We had a large basement in the house I lived in as a boy. The main room was my stage. We had a large oval rug, which was the stage. We had a large stereo system. For you kids in the audience, we listened to something called records. My first records were old 78s my mom let me listen to. I listened to the scratchy music of the musical "Oklahoma." My first LP was the original cast recording of "My Fair Lady." Rex Harrison and Julie Andrews taught me that the rain in Spain, stays mainly on the plain. The most intense album I ever listened to Broadway wise was "A Chorus Line." The masterpiece musical about the life of performers trying to get in a show.
Our basement was filled with "The Sound of Music," as I sang and danced and performed. I had patient parents. Very rarely was I told to keep it down. I would get my sister Anne to be part of some of my "shows." She was a good sport. My dad even built me a puppet stage, so yes, I could do my own version of "The Lonely Goat Herd."
In middle school I was in drama and music. Not too many people know this, but in drama class we had to develop a play, and performed for elementary kids. I think we had a fairy android in it, a dragon, and some dancing. This was also an early performance by future actor Dean Norris of AMC's Breaking Bad. I don't think he was the fairy android though.
In music, I performed with the Mini Singers. It was kind of a pre-swing or show choir for the middle school set. We did musicals as well. I seem to remember a fun time doing Gilbert and Sullivan's H.M.S. Pinafore. I was sailor #3 I think. :-)
High school was more devoted to the my singing. I was in Swing Choir. We performed all over the city. We always opened with the "Getting to Know You" from "The King and I." We would enter the room or performance hall from all sides, shaking hands with the audience, making our way to the stage. Guys would be dressed in powder blue tux-like jackets with ruffles and clip on bow ties. The girls wore SHORT dresses and white gloves. I loved the performances and the friends I made. Of course it was embarrassing when my mom made some of my Swing Choir friends and me perform for her friends("Oh MOM!!!")
I was in two musicals in high school, "Oklahoma" and "Plain and Fancy"(yeah I never heard of it either). In "Oklahoma" I played Ado Annie's Pa. My big number was "The Farmer and the Cowman." I loved the part, mostly because I got to say, "Who the HELL are you!"
Towards the end of high school, I got to go to the North Carolina School of the Arts in Winston-Salem, NC. If you have seen the film "Fame" you will have an inkling what my summers at NCSA were like. Yes there were classes ranging from fencing to tap dance to mask making to acting. There were also improv performances in the cafeteria, dances, and making some of the best friends I ever had. It was my last summer at NCSA when I came out. I kissed my first boy and thought, "WOW this is me." One of my oldest friends, Chris Runge, was the person I first told about my being gay. He was a great friend then, he is a great friend now. I love him so much.
Sadly, I was not accepted into NCSA for college. The critique of my audition was brutal. I was devastated for years, and I didn't act. I tried theatre in college, but I was too hurt by the rejection. Hindsight shows, that rejection is part of acting. If you can't take it, you shouldn't be in it.
Flash to the late 1990s. After my mother died, I thought a lot about regrets in life. I thought about my old dreams of acting. I decided I owed that dream one more try. I enrolled in classes at Second City in Chicago. Second City is an improv theatre which gave us the likes of John Bellushi, Gilda Radnor, Bill Murray, and most anyone who was funny in the mid to late 20th century.
I loved the classes. I worked hard, even though the classes were just for fun. One night, I was part of a midnight show on the stage at Second City. I developed an skit with a friend, and we performed it for the crowd. It was a take suggestions from the audience skit. It worked. I made people laugh. It was at that moment, I felt I accomplished what I wanted to. I had been on stage. I entertained people, and I made some folks laugh. I didn't need to do anything more.
I understand now I won't win my Oscar by the time I'm 50. What I did have in my life though, was a love and appreciation of the theatre. I made some wonderful friends, and I had some incredible experiences.
I am thankful to my parents for allowing me to explore my creativity. I am so glad they took me to Chicago to see plays and musicals. I still think a highlight was to go to Chicago and see the great Katherine Hepburn in "The West Side Waltz." Horrible play, but wow she was amazing.
I am thankful for the people who taught me Shakespeare, Ibsen, Sondheim, Rogers and Hammerstein, Moliere, Brecht, Simon(Neil and Mel), and so many great playwrights and composers. I may not have become an actor, but I became a more rounded person.
Charlie
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