2010 is the year I’m trying different things and kinda going wherever life leads me. With that in mind, I agreed to sign up for the Lansing Race for the Cure 5K run in April.

There is another reason I opted to do this: my mom is a 20-year breast cancer survivor.

Both my mom and my sister have been very involved in the Detroit Race for the Cure for years. I’ve helped out here and there, such as (in)famously offering to be stage security for former-Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick a few years ago.

A group of friends here in Lansing started chatting about the Race via Twitter a few weeks ago, and I decided “oh, why not?” Thus, Team Thanks for the Mammaries was born (if you’re in Lansing and wish to join, search for the #LoveLansing “company” name on the race website).

It hit me last week that I actually needed to train for this thing.

I am not a runner. We tend not to get along. But, some members of my team pointed me to the Couch to 5K training program and sang its praises. After looking over the schedule/routine, I decided “hey, I can do this.”

While studying the routine, I quickly realized why I never had much luck running in the past–I was doing too much, too soon. I liked that this routine has you starting out with a “jog for 60 seconds, walk for 90 seconds” plan.

Thinking back on the past times I’ve tried jogging I remembered that I did nothing like this at all–I just ran and ran for the whole time, without working up to anything.

No wonder I felt like I died each time doing.

Yesterday was my first training run and it was, as the they say in Italian,”non ce’ male.”

Yes, it was cold and I hated having to wait for traffic lights, but darn it, I survived. Better still, I didn’t feel sick afterward.

The only problem, training for running in winter is going to be a challenge (read: snow and/or ice) around here, but I’ll make due.

I opted for the fancy race registration where they give you a chip (not potato) to track your time. So, I guess I am ‘competing.’

Yikes. Wish me luck.

An email from my dad:

Just got done reading your blog. Kudos.

Prior to that I was watching “Shine a Light” & had a thought. At my eulogy, you could open with:
My Dad & I were roadies for the Rolling Stones. He was in the pit, I was on sound crew. The stories
we could tell.

You can take it from there.

Have to get back to the garage to dry my wood.
dad

My dad is obsessed with having the coolest funeral ever. I’m not making this up. I have an envelope containing his final wishes.

Not that Dad is dying or anything.  He just believes in being prepared.

He also speaks the truth.  We were both “roadies” for the Rolling Stones half-time show at Super Bowl XL at Ford Field in Detroit.  He was part of the crew that assembled the stage and I was part of the team that setup the giant speakers and ran the connector cables to them.

The best part? I got to be on field during the few minutes of the 2nd and 4th quarters–and I was mere feet from the Seahawks and their cheerleaders. Dad and his crew were stuck in the bowels of Ford Field until half-time.

Here’s where we were:

I was on the side lines and dad was in the middle under the "tongue" of the stage. Image © original source.

As you can see, I was off to the side and dad was in the center of the action.  The cool part was that we got to go to Ford Field for dress rehearsal a few days before–and the Stones drove within a few feet of me on golf carts, smiling and waving to our team. Very cool.

That stage is actually a bunch of tall metal carts that had to be snapped together in very little time.

Being downtown for the Superbowl was magical.  Nothing else describes the feeling or look of the city.  People filled the streets and there were millions of interesting things going on around me.

It was worth getting a call from Dad at 6 AM on a Saturday morning telling me to go online and sign up to volunteer.

I was strolling down the street in East Lansing the other evening and when walking past the old Taco Bell building, I spotted this harbinger of joy on the front window:

Please let this be true. As a suburban Detroit native, I grew up eating at National Coney Island restaurants. Things got even better when the big 24 hour place went up in Roseville, granting my high school cronies and I great place to hang out.  Then one opened up minutes from my parents’ place and things got even better.

I suffered without my beloved National for too long while on the West side of the State during my Grand Valley State days. It was a sad state of affairs.

Thankfully, Lansing has its fair share of excellent chili dog places, so I have not suffered here. But as good as they are, they still aren’t the same as National. There was always something special about National, even the small place they had at Lansing Mall in the old food court (don’t know if they still have one, I doubt it).

When I was younger and still drank pop, I would always order a Coke in a styrofoam cup go wash down my chili dogs.  Coke always tasted better in their styrofoam cups for some reason. Can’t explain it.

This reminds me, I need to stop at a National next time I’m back in the D. It has been too long. I’ll break my pseudo-diet and get a chili dog. Mmmm. Chili dog.

This year’s Stanley Cup Playoffs was one for the history books.

And I’m not just talking about the Finals, which featured the same teams as the previous year for the first time in 20+ years. The whole run was epic, East and West. Yes, the big story line is the Red Wings falling to the Penguins, the opponents they bested last summer, but every round was chuck full of some great hockey. And honestly, this year’s playoffs probably helped draw more fans in than playoffs in years past.

We got to see Washington and Pittsburgh duke it out in the second round, which was a gift for everyone. Detroit renewed their storied rivalry with division-mates Chicago. And then there was Montreal, celebrating its 100th season, imploding in the first round as they faced their fellow Original Six member, Boston. This was one of my favorite playoffs in recent memory.

As a Red Wings fan, the Finals were indeed heartbreaking–but Pittsburgh deserved to win, especially in the fabled Game 7. They just played better. The Red Wings looked sloppy and nervous in Game 7, a far cry from the well-tuned powerhouse that spanked the upstart Penguins in Game 5 last weekend at Joe Louis Arena in Detroit. And every game was an epic battle (well, except for maybe Game 5). You saw some of the best hockey ever in this series–that’s why the final score of Game 7 was 2 to 1. The teams were that good, especially the goal tenders.

I was one who felt that if even the Red Wings had won the Cup, that Penguins forward “Geno” Malkin should have won the Playoff MVP. He was that good, and better than his highly touted team mate, Sidney Crosby. Malkin is the total package: he can skate, score and he has size. I like watching him play way more than Crosby.

Yes, I’m upset the Red Wings didn’t win–but I’ll live. The fact they even GOT to the Finals two seasons in a row is a staggering achievement. My one complaint, or even question, about the latter half of the series is why Red Wings coach Mike Babcock did not continue to play Red Wings rookie Justin Abdelkader. He had two goals in the first two games–and super star sniper, Marian Hossa had zero goals in the Finals. Abdelkader seemed to have the speed, along with Darren Helm, to keep up with the Penguins.

But next season is a chance to start again, and we’ll see what happens. That’s part of the fun. If anything, this loss–especially in a Game 7 at home–will fire up the Red Wings and inspire them to redeem themselves next season. I don’t hate that the Red Wings lost so much as I hate that Sidney Crosby won the Cup. Now, that’s all we’ll hear about forever, and ever. He’s already the NHL’s Golden Boy (for whatever reason), and this Cup win will make it even more so. Sigh.