I finally participated in the first comptetitive athletic event of my life on Saturday-- the Devil Dog Duathlon. I'm going to indulge in some blatant bragging, cause I'm pretty proud of myself. Sure, I finished 432nd out of around 465. Sure, I was completely trounced by a significant number of people in their 60s, but I accomplished what I set out to do--finish the race without resorting to walking and without utterly embarrassing myself. I mean, I haven't even owned a bike for two years. It wasn't that long ago when I couldn't even run a mile at a time, and I did over 6 miles with a long bike ride in between. I had attempted to train for an event like this last year, but I completely overestimated my abilities and washed out pretty quickly. This year, I've been pretty deliberate about my training and determined to learn some self discipline, if nothing else. I think I've at least become a little more disciplined-- I did the race in spite of coming down with a nasty bout of the flu three weeks before the big day. I was so nervous the night before the race that I could hardly sleep, mostly because of the prospect of participating in the same event as lots of people who are much, much, much better shape than I am who would probably think I'm an idiot for trying. Now I know there wasn't anything to worry about. Everyone was very supportive, and some very nice peoepl yelled encouragement to me throughout the race. The whole thing was such a great experience. I'm excited to move on toward my goal of participating in a triathlon in July, confident that I can improve a lot on my running and bike times now that I know what I'm getting into (and that I should take two puffs from my inhaler before I start the race, not just one), and happy to know that, even though I'm still a beginning swimmer, most athletes have been where I am at some point and will be supportive of me for just participating. I'm also excited that I may finally be making headway on my long-term goal--establishing a habit of fitness in my life that I hope to be able to maintain well into middle age or longer.
I will stop blabbing before I start sounding like a coach after the Super Bowl. Sports are exciting, but there isn't a whole lot to say about them other than that. :) Here are some photos.
I've been browsing more of the Mennonite cookbook, mostly to see whether my mom contributed any recipes. I haven't found any. Maybe the book was published after we started going to a different church. 1984, Mom? In the process, I've found some recipes definitely worth making, like an ice cream pie with crust made out of peanut butter and rice crispies. Yum! Then there's the "Preacher's cake". There's no explanation for the name, but it's the only recipe I've seen so far to feature sour milk.
I'm also enjoying looking at the names; they definitely reflect the region and the denomination. Plenty of Yoders, Millers, Hostetlers, and Hartmans. Plus a Schloneger and a Swartzentruber. Of course, there's a Martinez and a Khambay thrown in, reminders that the book was published in 20th, not the 19th century, Ohio.
I've finally gotten around to reading The Closing of the American Mind. (No, it wasn't required reading in any of my Hillsdale classes, surprisingly enough.) For a book written twenty years ago, it's surprisingly timely. Here's an excerpt that seems more appropriate now than it was then:
"It goes without saying that Weber never for a moment considered whether Calvin might actually have had a revelation from God--which would certainly change the looks of things. Weber's atheism was dogmatic, but he was not interested in proving that Calvin was a charlatan or a madman. He rather preferred to believe in the authenticity of Calvin was a charlatan or a madman. He rather preferred to believe in the authenticity of Calvin and other such founding figures as representing peak psychological types who have an inner sureness or commitment. The religious experience is the thing, not God. The old quarrel between reason and revelation is a matter of indifference, because both sides were wrong, had faulty self-understandings. However, revelation teaches us what man is and needs. Men like Calvin are the value producers and hence the models for action in history. We cannot believe in the ground (God) of their experience, but that experience is critical. We are not interested in finding out how the understood themselves but rather in searching in the self for the mysterious substitute for their ground. We cannot have, and do not want to have, their peculiar illusions; but we do not want values and commitments. The result of this atheistic religiosity is the mysterious musings and language of Weber and many others (think of Sartre) about belief and action, which culminate in something very different from what either religious leaders or rational statesmen ever said or did. It fuses the two kinds of men, but with greater weight given to the former, to the necessity of faith and all that goes with it." (210-211)
Is it any wonder that seeker-sensitive churches aren't turning out real converts when they have people attending in droves? They're providing what people seek, what Bloom describes, which is the religious experience without the content.
I have been reorganizing my kitchen (very, exciting, I know). As I sorted through my cookbooks, I found one published by the Mennonite church my family attended when I was little. I flipped through it and found the recipe below. Keep in mind that all of the recipes were contributed by individuals in the church, so someone must have actually made this and eaten it at some point:
Corned Beef Salad
1-1/3 c boiling water
1 box lemon Jello
3/4 cup salad dressing
Cool, when partly set, add:
1 can chopped corned eef
2 cups chopped celery
1 small chopped onion
3 hardboiled eggs, chopped fine
For individual salads, put in muffin pans and serve on lettuce.
Yummy.