were i to dream

i was born in a foreign land. i grew up in this land thinking only about things in that land. when i became older we made trips to my parents homeland. one time while in America I had a dream that I forgot something at home in Africa and so I went to get it. when I awoke I had the distinguishing feeling that I never really made it back from the dream.


Travel Log: Hawaii

After a great weekend and visit from Steve, which concluded with a 15k race (finished 2nd and 3rd) early Sunday morning, lunch at great harvest bread co, and riding the bus to LAX together, I boarded a flight to Honolulu with the Hurley camera crew and a couple surfers including Rob Machado. The first 2 days we had cloudy weather and poor surf making for an unmotivated group of athletes and even less determined camera crew. At the mercy of the elements for both sun and waves we tried to retain a positive energy by continuously reviewing and testing b grade footage. The only thing holding up to our unanimous expectations was the food. From swordfish with pineapple salsa to ahi poke to acai bowls with honey granola and bananas on top, we enjoyed the exquisite tastes of the north shore. I started the 3rd and final full day with a run on the bike-path that parallels the shoreline. The sun was just breaking over the hills behind our house when I got back. There was something different about this day. We all felt it. After a quick bite I grabbed my gear and hiked with the group across the street to a section of waves called log cabins. The session produced some great clips with adequate lighting. Enough to stay in focus at least! And we felt that we deserved a little luck after all our struggling. Now on the bus headed home I'm soaking in the events of the last week...

- Posted from the Road



Retreating into the wilderness to commune, in total silence, with the law that holds the universe together.



the layers of struggle

i was running along thinking about how the western more economically comfortable mindset tends to try and 'think' it's way out of any problem. for example... instead of just heading out and working/running hard everyday (the way a kenyan or someone from a less fortunate culture would do) we try to figure out some secret or some way to tweak our training and maximize improvement. We love statistics and scientific-like deductions such as "the faster you recover - the more you can train, the lower your muscle tension during rest - the faster your recovery rates will be, tactics such as icing and massage - lower muscle tension... therefore massage increases performance. I almost stopped running to laugh at myself when I realized that this entire time I was doing exactly what I was trying to say was wrong with the western mindset.



intense running is like holding your breath. it's extremely uncomfortable, especially at first. but after a while it becomes tolerable and you find a peace in the heart of this struggle.



I was running just 3 miles when it hit me that I might be officially crazy. nuts, bananas, bonkers! Maybe I deserve to be locked up in an asylum and society really is reserved for the mild, 'sensible' member of the proletariat. Surely, someone who finds spontaneously running home from a movie high on their list of 'fun' things to do, is on the fringes of society. Even more so someone who howls and laughs out loud and (nearly) screams at fellow pedestrians, "why is everyone driving? we drive everywhere! what is wrong with everybody?". All the while suspicious that I may have really lost itIt's been something in the back of my mind for a while. Like when I'm sitting in an icy pool by myself at 7am, or when I can barely carry the 4 bags of groceries that I just walked 2 miles with, or when I'm on a new 12 mile trail in the woods running up a hill steep enough that people are walking their bikes and I happen upon a sign but I'm so exhausted I can't remember what the trail is called. What doesn't compute for me is that while I am curious and want to explore the world in all it's brilliance I feel that I am being sensible and using impervious deduction when I decide that most of society is completely off. Is it so illogical that when I refuse to let my body cascade towards the inevitable point of lowest energy, it is glaringly obvious this requires a change of lifestyle which doesn't parallel the mainstream? (possibly resulting in dodging cars - running down the middle of the street at night to avoid sidewalk construction - wearing pants and carrying a sweater) Or should I not question that while we become increasingly comfortable driving two blocks to the store and sitting for hours in front of a computer we also become more dependent on medicine to help us sleep at night? A car that is already halfway out of the driveway stops, and reverses back up the driveway to let me run by as I come to another simple conclusion; society must be for crazy people... who agree to follow rules. Spoken rules and unspoken rules. Rules that make us feel like there is less madness and that we will never reach the point of lowest energy. The asylum on the other hand, is for people who are also crazy (maybe more or even less crazy) but just missed the part where they were supposed to agree with all the other crazy people. They lack the ability to lie and prefer to face this 'insanity' head-on. 
[ Once, at a birthday celebration in my teens everyone was going around trying to say (uncontrived) nice things about me when it came to my brother and I could tell he was stumped. One of the things about being brothers is that he wasn't embarrassed and I wasn't hurt. It made us laugh uncontrollably. He finally said something like, "Aaron has the inability to tell a lie." Maybe because I didn't know what he meant at the time, but for some reason that stuck with me.  Even though the dinner was completely forgotten when my mothers purse was snatched! ] 
Point being, I think it is an 'inability' and a 'disadvantage' to be incapable of not always seeking the truth. Or simpler put, I think it usually takes a lie of some kind to show that you agree about life and can become a member of the 'club'. What's that line again... I wouldn't want to be a part of a club that would have me as a member? Yea, that pretty much sums it up.

On a side note: I might start wearing sweatpants from now on. Even though they are silly and somewhat offensive in most situations I refuse to find myself running 3 miles in jeans ever again.


When I run I know who I am, again. It's what I feel, and I'm at peace. I cannot be angry at anyone for being true to who they are because that is the closest I am to being alive.

- Posted from the Ice
a true rebel must sometimes uphold the rules,
in order to love breaking them.