Complaint #011: Running

For those of you who know me and care (probably too much), you know I ran my first half-marathon this past weekend, and for those of you who didn't know, I just told you. Because of this very fact, it seems apropos to list the complaints I have concerning running. Now, I realize my audience (assuming you're a reasonable facsimile of society as a whole) doesn't care about running, but I do, and I'll risk losing you for a week to talk about it.

Let me first point out that I absolutely love running. If you can get your legs and your lungs in running shape, there is nothing that can compete with the feeling of a run. You feel the adrenaline swimming in your blood, making it surge through your arteries. Various endorphins trick your weak human body into feeling some kind of high. And I won't mention the subjective awesomeness of completing a challenge you have set in front of yourself.

There are, however and unfortunately, a number of drawbacks to running. The first is easy: we, as humans, are weak creatures. Every part of this bag of meat that we are tries to reject this action of running. Let me use my run from this weekend to paint a wide generalization as to why my previous statement is true (because every runner and each run is identical to my race on Saturday). The run actually went fantastically until about 1.5 miles left, at which point, my body (yes, the incredibly well-oiled well-trained machine that it is) wanted me to give up. It started with my right LCL (I assume that's the outside ligament on my right knee, if my great Wikipedia searching and reading abilities are worth anything) screaming at me. Ligaments don't have mouths, so it yells at me by sending a piercing pain through my leg. That's not terrible; it's just pain. Every runner has to come to terms with pain on every run (if you're doing it correctly). Luckily, you're running, so there's something more important on which to keep your mind focused. What's worse is when, with about one hundred yards left and the finish line in sight, your calf starts seizing/cramping up on you. You can't just distract yourself from this one because it's a part of your body not working when you need it to work. Luckily, unlike the time this happened when you were crossing a four-lane highway, it doesn't completely lock up, so you cross the finish line in stride and in style.

That's when the real pain starts. What I assume is swelling in my genetically terrible knees makes it feel like someone is driving a spike into my kneecap. My lungs, despite training, are regretting the extra level of speed I pulled out for the last tenth of a mile or so. Your mind is no longer focused on running, so it now realizes that every single muscle of your legs is sore and continue to be for the next few days. Also, your ankles ache and the blisters on your feet don't exactly feel pleasant...every step you take in the following days. This list doesn't include, through some random miracle, the pain in your shins that can only be accurately compared (though cliché) to Kathy Bates' sledgehammer scene in Misery.

There is one part of our frail bodies I have neglected to mention to this point: the stomach. Our bodies require fuel in order to function, especially when performing physically intensive activities. The stomach, however, hates holding any solid matter (and it isn't fond of much liquid matter either). The best you can do is fill your stomach with pure carbohydrates beforehand and just hope it all stays down. And what's a better food made of pure carbohydrates than mashed potatoes? The problem comes when you wake up at 5:00 AM and have mashed potatoes for breakfast before your 8 o'clock run. Mashed potatoes and Gatorade is not a desired taste combination in a breakfast meal.

On top of the fact that your body hates you for doing something that theoretically keeps it healthier, you also must sacrifice things from the other aspects in your life. The biggest problem is that it takes a lot of time out of your life to run. Let's say you're training for a half-marathon: training by running one takes approximately two hours. On top of that, you need the hour before to get your stomach right by eating mashed potatoes and getting yourself in the right mindset. Also, you need the hour after the run to contemplate suicide cool down and take a shower. You also spent $70 to run this event and you start to realize you spent $70 to have someone time your run, give you a cheesy medal, and feed you at the end (although, in Wisconsin, you get a beer with that meal, so it's almost worth the money).

Despite all of these things, I still love running. This should help prove the fact that all runners are crazy. No, literally, we are all insane and probably should be committed.

Complaint #010: The Problem of Pain

In order for this post to make sense for those who are unaware or unfamiliar with the problem of pain, I'll spend this first segment explaining it. The problem of pain refers to the paradox/proof that a purely benevolent, omnipotent God cannot exist because evil exists. I'll break down that statement: if God is all-good and all-powerful, He would use His ultimate power to prohibit evil from occurring. Evil exists in our world; ergo, the aforementioned God cannot exist. Fairly simple proof and fairly logical, and therein lies the problem (for a logic-driven Christian, such as myself).

For those who didn't know, this very problem sidelined me (spiritually) for a good year and a half. I finally got to a place where I could ignore the above proof and just say to myself that He is a mysterious God that none of us will understand Him fully. There's a lot more to it, but it essentially boils down to that. It's at this point that I'll make my (inevitable) plug to Donald Miller and his book Blue Like Jazz (available for $4.00 (incl. shipping) on Amazon) for pointing out that, much like love, God cannot be placed into a formula, He cannot be explained, He just is Himself. But that just isn't a good conclusion to this story. As great as Miller is, he really only taught me a good way to ignore the problem (a perfectly good solution because we can't really solve this problem with our human minds anyway). This wasn't really good enough for me, but the problem was gone for a bit.

Fast forward to today: this problem was discussed at church today (if you're ever in Madison, WI some day, join me at Blackhawk Church downtown (also, I'll take any excuse to promote anything I enjoy in my life)). For some reason, I feel like I got it. Plenty of people probably tried to explain it to me (maybe in the exact same way), but I never really pieced it together until today. So, let's start at the beginning (there is no beginning, but we'll start before our universe is created) and we'll take this God and give Him the power to create animals which have sovereignty to make their own decisions (whatever that means and however that happens) (this kind of leads to a reduction of His power, but if His desire is to create animals with this ability, then it is within His power to do so somehow). Inherent in that previous assertion is the ability for these animals to choose an action which is not in line with the benevolent, omnipotent God. With that, evil can occur. However, despite this, God still has the power to redeem these animal creatures from the beds they've made for themselves (probably with straw and ropes rather than with memory foam). This isn't exactly a logical proof, but it seems to at least try to reconcile the all-goodness and all-powerfulness with the existence of evil in a realistic way.

There's still much more to wrestle with when considering the implications of such a problem. I'm not done tackling the issue, but I'm starting to make progress. I think the next step is reading C.S. Lewis' The Problem of Pain. I don't think I'll ever be able to fully understand even this small aspect in the infinite ocean of attributes that is God, but any closer I can get is better than nothing.

Complaint #009: Tipping

No, Tipping is not a city in China (at least that I could find, and even if it is, it doesn't matter) and cow tipping really only seems funny in that scene from Tommy Boy^* (one of the funniest movies of all time; if you haven't seen it yet, I'm sorry for your life). Back on topic: I don't know of any other references I can make about tipping other than the point I want to make: paying a gratuity on top of the charge for a service. Listen, I get it; I understand that waiters/waitresses get like $2.50 an hour and make most of their income through tips. I tip them, and I do my best to tip them well, because they aren't paid enough and a lot of people are complete jerks and don't tip well. Bartenders are kind of the same thing. They have to deal with (what's an appropriate word here that also conveys what I'm trying to say? hmm I'll just go with "jerks" again, but that has a lot less weight than what I was thinking when I first started writing this sentence (also, I'm writing too much fluff to make sure even the most simple-minded reader could catch my drift)) jerks all shift which become jerkier as the shift goes on. They probably don't make enough to support much of a good living situation. So, yeah I'll give them a tip.

Anything much past that, I don't really get. I have no idea whether there are other vocations that pay at a (legal) sub-minimum wage with the expectation of making up the difference with tips. Here's a case in point, but first a little background: I am a man of simple needs. I have gotten my hair cut by people outside of my family only a handful of times. That was the case until I moved to college and didn't see my family for, like, four months (no one wants to see my hair uncut after four months...again (but that's a completely separate story)). Anyway, I went to get my hair cut at a SuperCuts^* (or similar hair cutting joint (again, a man of simple needs)). I got my hair cut, paid for it at the price the "menu" said, and went on my merry way (that's kind of disturbing to hear from me, I'm not ever really "merry"). By this point, you've probably figured out what I neglected to do: pay the tip. Not knowing a tip was expected, I was in that "ignorance is bliss" state until I returned to my dorm and was talking with my roommate (I think, it was one of my friends freshman year) and he mentioned that tipping was expected for hairdressers. Well, needless to say, I felt like a(n) (what was that word I was talking about above?). It wasn't that I didn't want to tip the hairdresser, I just didn't know. I kind of get that one: I'm trusting them with the way my hair looks (and most people care about the way their hair looks) and I should pay them as well as I believe they've handled the job.

Next comes taxis. I don't think I was the first to pay for a cab ride of which I partook (it was a shared business thing, people aren't giving me free cab rides for no reason). The payer added a tip to the bill. I have since Googled^* (yes, I'm a nerd, I know) and realize, apparently, that cab drivers expect tips.

That's all I know. I don't understand or see what similarities waiters, hairdressers, and cabbies have. I don't know who else should get tipped. Maybe you guys can comment and tell me.

Last point: why do only waiters get the tips. I really don't care much about their service (as long as it doesn't suck), I'm more concerned about how my food tastes. I should tip the cook. Not to mention the fact that busboys (or busgirls) have to deal with my dirty dishes and napkins and table crumbs (maybe not mine, but the general public's table crumbs (I try to keep my area relatively clean, out of respect for them)).

Also, and this has nothing to do with anything I think, but it's interesting to ponder: I remember a Colin Cowherd^* (funniest/smartest man in sports radio) bit about the fact that we should tip the waiters/waitresses and cooks before, not after, the meal. If I want great service, I should give them the motivation beforehand, rather than making them wonder whether I'm going to be that (word from above) and not tip well.

^* Apparently, this post is brought to you by Tommy Boy, SuperCuts, Google, and Colin Cowherd.

Complaint #008: The English Language and Other Related Topics, Part I: Homophones and Homographs

I love the English language (without it, I wouldn't be able to write these magnificent blog posts), in general, but there are a few things that should be fixed. And, of course, the first things that need to go are homographs and homophones. Let's take a little time to understand why.

I'll start off with the good: there is a good reason for homographs and homophones to exist: Puns. "Q: A man walks into a bar. What does he say? A: 'Ouch!'" This is a classic joke, but I'll give it up if we can get rid of these homo-words (I use this in a way to group homophones and homographs, and not as some sort of political statement). Along with that, we also need to give up some clever rap lyrics, such as "Like a sprained ankle, boy, I ain't nothing to play with", and despite my guilty pleasure of enjoying some of the worst rap on the planet (it's just so bad, it's hilarious, and I like that), we have to sacrifice, for the sake of humanity (I mean, Drake ended that line with a preposition. C'mon man. (After saying that, I'll probably do the same about 48 times by the end of this post))

Now, let us explore some reasons we need to get rid of the homo-words. Actually, it's really only two examples and they boil down to the same problem: confusion. And actually it's the same reason just applied to the two groups of words. I am simply filling up space by writing worthless sentences to build up suspense. Alrighty, back on topic: homophones. Homophones are words that sound the same, but they have different meanings. Let me set up the situation: I'm sitting, listening to someone give a talk and the speaker starts a sentence with "For physicians...", and there was a slight pause, leaving me a bit confused. Did she say "For physicians" or "Four physicians"? So my brain panics for the milliseconds it takes the speaker to finish "this will lead to a marked improvement in documentation" (OK, I made up that last part, it was probably something along those lines). Had this not been such a simple word to figure out the two different meanings, I would have had to expend brain energy going back and switching what I thought the speaker said at first. Take, for example, "sent". Is the speaker saying "sent", "cent", or "scent"? "Two", "to", or "too"? "By", "bye", or "buy"? Sometimes, one has to wait for the context to come before the specific word can be determined, and this isn't efficient.

This also leads to the following (omnipresent) problem: because people write by how they speak, people often incorrectly spell homophones. It's the reason stupid people write "Your stupid!" in an attempt to insult someone, but really they're insulting themselves (or the American educational system). By far the most frustrating to read is "should of" or "could of" or the like. People, it's supposed to be "should have" and "could have".

The same applies to homographs (words that have the same spelling, but different meaning (for reference, homonyms are both homophones and homographs)). When I read the title "Gone with the Wind", I don't want to sound like an idiot if I accidentally read it as "Gone with the /waɪnd/".

And I don't want to be the guy who complains and doesn't offer a solution, so here it is (however completely impractical and absurd): assign a unique identifying ID to every meaning for every word we need to define. If necessary (although, as a computer scientist I don't understand why), we can assign them string IDs. What do you think?

Complaint #007: Travel

Having been traveling the past nine days (something I'll likely never have to do again as a software developer), I feel qualified (even though I'm not) to complain about the things I don't enjoy about travel. I actually did enjoy the travel, but the following would have made it a bit better.

I'm not sure if these count as complaints, but rather more as tips or observations.

In the Car

• Try to get in a carpool of people with similar musical taste (or at least share it with the driver). You don't want to get stuck in a car listening to the 24-hour Pearl Jam station and you definitely don't need to hear both the Wisconsin and California version of Lady GaGa's "Yoü and I" on the same trip
• Yes, all of the other people chuckle at you when you're the first to fall asleep (especially if you snore, and even if the rest of them also fall asleep on the trip (although, hopefully not the driver))

At the Airport

• Contrary to what you would expect, they do not provide you with a rape kit after the security check
• Every airport has twelve Starbucks and no Dunkin' Donuts
• You either arrive at your gate two hours early or fifteen minutes after boarding starts (six minutes before takeoff); never can you arrive at a reasonable time

On the plane

• The passenger next to you will be bigger than you, so give up the leg room to him/her
• If you're going to drink a large iced coffee before you get on the plane, make sure you visit the bathroom before you board, also
• No, there is no comfortable position to sleep (but, then again, there are no comfortable positions on the plane at all)
• That thin curtain that separates you from first class does give them the authority to be pretentious drunkards

At the hotel

• Yes, every hotel's gym/health center is 85° and 95% humidity so that you work up a sweat by the time you reach the treadmill (I think they're trying to convince you subconsciously that you're working out really hard, but it's not very helpful when you still have five miles left to run)
• Despite how helpful it would be, your hotel room number is not on your hotel room keycard
• A Residence Inn room is meant to be an entire residence, making it unnecessary to stay there for one night
• Even though it has a front desk, the hotel restaurant expects you to seat yourself (if you don't know this, it's OK to wander around aimlessly as if you're looking for your friend, no one thinks you're an idiot)
• As we all know, placing your towel on the floor means the housekeeping person will replace it and leaving it on the rack means they won't. What they don't tell you is that if you leave the bathmat sized towel on the floor, they'll replace all of the towels.

Back Home

• Yes, the mailman (or mailwoman) was trying to see how much mail he (or she) can cram into your mailbox

In writing this I felt like a bad comedian ("And what's the deal with airline food?"), but I hope you enjoyed it or feel my pain or find these tips helpful for your next trip.