Wishing Everyone A Life-Changing Day

My two-year old yellow lab got hit by a car yesterday. Chased a snowball thrown by my son right into the street. Thankfully, she escaped with only cuts and bruises. We were lucky.

Lucky to still have our dog. Lucky to not have to console a 12-year old boy and his 10-year old brother. Lucky to have survived such a scare, and lucky to have the chance to learn from a mistake.

In the past couple of years, I've dealt with other scary things. Health scares involving loved ones. Thankfully, everything's all right. I watched one of my bothers -- the hardest-working of all the Bradleys -- lose his job because of some nimrod boss. Watched as he had to pack up his family and move across the country.

I live every day, wondering how I'll be able to keep my boys on the right path. Wondering how a parent is supposed to deal with something like the internet, much less drugs and alcohol.

I wonder how, with all that's happened in the past year to our money (not just "ours" but everyone's retirement money and investments), I'm going to be able to educate my boys the way my parents educated me. I hope and pray every single day that I'm not going to be the next casualty as I watch so many colleagues lose their jobs.

I've got a lot on my plate. More than I can possibly control, but I view it as my job to do my best to look after those I love...and those who've loved me. That, in itself, is what occupies my brain.

And, what's the point of this rambling note? Well, I'm happy for everyone who's getting all teary-eyed over today's inaugural. I can appreciate the history that's taking place. From what I've heard, Barack Obama is an amazing speaker. From what I've read, he's a brilliant writer.

But I just don't see how my life changes all that much today. I don't see how Obama will be any better at keeping me and my family going than George Bush was. I mean, how's Obama going to keep my dog from running into the street. Simple answer is, he can't.

I guess there's a chance down the road I'll feel differently, if Obama ends the war in Iraq, keeps my boys from having to deal with a draft 5-7 years from now. That's why I voted for him.

But as of today, unlike so much of the country, who are rejoicing as if our retirement money's all going to re-appear tomorrow and our jobs are going to be safer, I'm in "wait-and-see" mode. I seriously hope that Obama turns out to be the greatest president in the history of our country.

And if everyone else I know sees their life change for the better after 12 noon today, than I'm happy for you. And that's sincere.

I don't know. I just feel like I've got to keep an eye on my own. Same as yesterday.

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Heavy Hearted

This morning, I received an email that was so very sad. The best teacher I ever had has fallen ill and is seeking help. I feel so powerless, I don't know what to say.

Ms. Lane, my high school journalism teacher, has Stage IV ovarian cancer. What's more, she recently left my old high school -- and teaching -- to become an administrator at a different school. She's non-tenured, already out of sick days, and trying to figure out how to cope with it all.

I saw Ms. Lane recently, at my induction into the West Essex High School Hall of Academic Distinction. Go ahead and laugh. I did, too, when Ms. Lane called me a couple of years ago to tell me she wanted to nominate me for the Hall. "I'm a sportswriter," I said. "You're joking, right?"

Turns out, Ms. Lane was not joking. She told me she'd followed my career (I hate even calling it my "career"...it's my job), from Sports Illustrated to the New York Daily News to ESPN The Magazine and she had shown her journalism students my work through the years.

She nominated me...and I was inducted.

And when I saw her in October at the banquet, man, was she proud. She introduced herself to my wife, gave her a hug, asked to see pictures of my children. She hugged my parents.

She told me (I graduated more than 20 years ago) that she regretted not nominating me for some senior award. I told her I had no idea what she was talking about. We both laughed.

It was so humbling, really. It's a long time ago, high school, but Ms. Lane was, let's just say, the only teacher who convinced me I could do this...do what I do...for a living. She didn't just talk it, either. She was our school newspaper advisor and she pushed me to make my stories better. To do more reporting. To write more vividly. "You're happy with that?" she'd ask, often, when she knew I'd mailed it in. So, it was back to work, trying to make the story...the paper...better.

The two or three of us who actually cared about the paper would work odd hours, trying to make deadlines. Ms. Lane was not averse to coming to school on the weekends to hammer things out. She would guide us well-past the hours when everyone else had gone home. She didn't have to.

Ms. Lane was also the teacher who took the time to ask me about things other than my grades. She wanted to know what, exactly, it was that I was looking for in college...and in life. I told her I wanted to write...maybe books...maybe for a newspaper...maybe a magazine...of course, I had my doubts. I was no ace. Certainly not one of the "gifted and talented" ones. Just a kid who liked sports and words who wondered if there was any way... Nah, it was a pipe dream. Right?

"If I were to tell you anything," Ms. Lane wrote in my yearbook, "I would tell you to work hard at what you enjoy. I hope to see your name in print, Jeff. May you possess all of the earth and the sun. There are millions of suns left."

I pray now that there are millions of suns left for Ms. Lane, as well.

If you care to know how you can help out, please get in touch with me.

ShoreBrads@aol.com

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Long Run Set List

I did not have the patience to create a long (two-hour) song list today, so instead I went for a theme. It was "All or Something...or Nothing"...from my ipod.

Here it is.

All Good Things, Jackson Browne.
All Her Favorite Fruite, Camper Van Beethoven
All I Needed Was You, Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes
All In My Head, Shawn Mullins
All My Life, Echo and the Bunnymen
All Night Long, Southside
All or Nothin' At All, Marshall Crenshaw (Springsteen Cover)
All Possibilities, Badly Drawn Boy
All Sinks In, The Connells
All Systems Red, Calexico
All That Heaven Will Allow, Bruce Springsteen
All the Dark Horses, Trashcan Sinatras
All the Small Things, Blink-182
All the Time in the World, The Connells
All the Trees of the Field Will Clap Their Hands, Sufjan Stevens
All the Way Home, Bruce Springsteen ((great, little-known song)
All the Way Home, Southside (Bruce Cover of great, little-known song)
All Too Much, Gomez
Something to Say, Ashton Allen
Something to Say, The Connells
Something Fine, Jackson Browne
Something For You, Dillon Fence
Something in the Night, Aram (Bruce Cover)
Something in tne Night, Bruce Springsteen
Something New, The Smithereens
Something Pretty, Patrick Park
Something So Strong, Crowded House (still an 80s guy from time to time)
Something to Talk About, Badly Drawn Boy
Nothing, Nada Surf
Nothing But Time, Jackson Browne (bookends)

As for the run, not much to say other than I got it done...14 miles, 14 degrees. To Avon and back, snotsicles hanging, face stinging. I think I'm down about five pounds in two weeks. I need to drop another 10 lbs. to be really equipped to run well in Boston.

The key, as always, is not to use all the miles as an excuse to eat everything in sight. That's tough, as is the fact that I've gone beerless for more than a week. I cannot remember the last time I went a week without enjoying a cold beer. Maybe I'll break down tonight.

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My Hate List

An hour and 48 minutes is a long time to run and a lot of time to think about all the things you hate. On my journey to Belmar and Back today, here's what came to mind.

I hate being out of shape. This is the No. 1 thought I have every time I begin to train for a marathon. Why didn't I just maintain? If I'd just continued on the right path of diet and running, I'd not feel so god-awful right now.

I hate being so uncool. But I hate even more when uncool people (like me) try to be cool. I think it goes along with my age (45). I mean, as much as I can buy the right jeans, the right shoes, the right shirt, it is sometimes impossible to pull it all off. I've got buddies who still dress like we did in college, crotch-hugging jeans and all, and...well...that doesn't work, either.

I hate that I look older than my age. My wife (who looks 25) asked a little girl the other day to "guess how old Mr. Bradley is." The kid replied, "50?" I'm not going to argue with the kid. I look every bit of 50. But, I'd rather have gray hair and look older than my age, than look like Bob Costas, Dan Patrick or any of those other dye-jobbers who look like complete fools. Oh yeah, add to my hate list...I hate people who say, "I've just got good genes!" Keep it to yourself.

I hate that I can't decide if I'm old school, or new school. I think I'm old school with my kids. Make them do their chores, keep a tight leash on 'em, etc. But I think, in general terms, I'm more new school. I prefer new music to classic rock. I am bored watching athletes who are described as "fundamentally sound." Yet, at the same time, I want Carolina to pull back a little from this Loyola-Marymount brand of ball they're playing the last few years. I'm confused.

I hate that I cannot play the guitar for beans. I've been banging around on a guitar for about five years now and I still cannot play anything but the most basic chords, and I can't play those all that convincingly, either. Along the same lines, I hate that I can't speak Spanish, especially when I feel I've put in a fairly good effort to learn the language.

I hate that I can't solve my dad's computer problems over the phone. Yeah, got back from my run and the phone rings and my dad wants to know what's wrong with his printer.

I hate that I'm hungry 24 hours a day. I am five-foot-six but can eat as much as an NFL lineman. How is this fair? I'm a little man. I should, therefore, have a size-appropriate appetite.

I hate when my whole family wants it to snow. You love the snow so much, let's see you all grabbing shovels tomorrow if the forecast is correct. I love New Jersey, love the change of seasons, but a winter with zero accumulation does not bother me in the least.

I hate what's going on in the newspaper business right now. Before our very eyes, an American institution is crumbling. An American institution that I have been a part of for, get this, more than 30 years. Yeah, I count my days of calling in high school games, my days writing stories for the Caldwell Progress (my mom did the typing) and even my days of swapping stories for lift tickets when I was working for the Olympic Committee in Lake Placid, N.Y. As great as the internet has been for so many things, it could very well make newspapers obsolete.

I hate Oprah. No explanation necessary. Of course, you could read further down the blog.

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Long Run Friday Set-List

The Genius once again provided an interesting set-list for my 12-mile run today. We keyed all off of Conor Oberst (pictured) and let it fly from there. Next week, I plan to take the time to create my own song list as I am not sure I consider the Genius to be even "gifted and talented." Have a look.

Conor Oberst, Danny Callahan
Calexico, Yours and Mine
The National, Ada
Griffin House, Let Me In
Ashton Allen, Dew Drops
The Beautiful Girls, I Need To Give This Broken Heart Away
Mike Doughty, Fort Hood
Patti Scialfa, Play Around
Vampire Weekend, I Stand Corrected
The New Pornographers, Streets of Fire
Ben Kweller, Family Tree
Matt Costa, Never Looking Back
Calexico, Two Silver Trees
Josh Ritter, Wings
Conor Oberst, Eagle on a Pole
Griffin House, Burning Up The Night
Counting Crows, On A Tuesday in Amsterdam
Neutral Milk Hotel, Two-Headed Boy
Marah, Angels on a Passing Train
Graham Parker, I Discovered America
Calexico, Lucky Dime
The Walkmen, In the New Year
Devotchka, Too Tired
Shout Out Louds, Impossible

At this point...the Genius list ran out...so I hit "Shuffle Songs," which seems to be every bit the genius...

10,000 Maniacs, Don't Go Back to Rockville
The Sundays, Love
Los Lobos, One Time One Night
U2, New Year's Day

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Spam of the Day

Got one today with the following subject line:

#1 Diet Recommended by Oprah in 2008!

The next line is, "Flush Out Up To 20 Pounds of Toxic Sludge and Undigested Food With The Acai Slim Diet. Oprah Approved!"

I don't even need to get into it, but did anyone get a look at Oprah in 2008? Not exactly what I'd call a career year in dieting for the Big O. I would say she digested more "toxic sludge" than she eliminated. In fact, recently, she's been talking about how depression drove her back to the Fudge Stripe cookies. What's funnier? The fact that Oprah's fat, or that she's depressed? People are losing their jobs all over this country and Oprah's depressed. Classic.

Are you going to care what diets she's recommending?

Anyone really looking to yo-yo for the next 15 years? It's bad enough that people buy books she recommends, even when they're full of lies!

Oh, by the way, my wife worships Oprah. Blech.

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And He's Out of the Gates...

So, training for Boston began in earnest today.

My friend (and former professional marathoner) Nick gave me my marching orders for January and today he called for "12 miles at a pleasant pace" (u should be able to hold a conversation during the run, nothing fast.) So that's what I set out to do...

I've done a few seven and eight-mile runs recently, so I've been building up slowly for January.

Since I don't have one of those fancy pedometers, I base everything on a 9-minute pace (in reality, I probably train at 8:15-8:30), and since I was told to run comfortably, I felt that 9:00 was a safe guess. So, I ran for precisely one hour and 48 minutes, which I assume got me to 12.

It was cold and pretty windy outside and a check of weather.com showed me that the wind was out of the South/Southwest, so that meant I would South to begin, so the wind could blow me up the coast on the way home. That's my typical approach and the main reason is, if you run with the wind at your back you will work up a good sweat, even on a cold day, and if you turn back into the wind you freeze your butt off. I know this from firsthand experience.

So, today's route was Manasquan, over the bridge to Point Pleasant to Bay Head to the Mantoloking line. Back up the coast, up the Point Pleasant Boardwalk, back over the bridge and home. It was not pretty, people. As the process continues, I will be able to share the thoughts that crossed my mind on a run. Today, I can just tell you that it hurt...a lot. My feet, my legs, my back. I caught a glimpse of myself in the long windows in front of Jenkinson's and I was pretty much a fat load moving along like a sloth. Embarrassing. Pitiful. This is the way it always starts.

I blogged a while back that I've added an ipod to my training (after years of resisting) and I'll share the songs that came out of a "genius" playlist that was songs "linked to" Semi-Charmed Kind of Life by Third Eye Blind. Now, before people start trashing my taste in music, this is not my playlist, but the playlist of the little "genius" inside my new ipod. As you will see all the "Genius" does is choose songs from a similar genre and era. Hence, a lot of 90s tunes.

1. Semi-Charmed Kind of Life, Third Eye Blind.
2. One Headlight , The Wallflowers.
3. Run-Around, Blues Traveler.
4. Two Princes, Spin Doctors.
5. Hey Jealousy, Gin Blossoms.
6. Let Her Cry, Hootie and the Blowfish.
7. When I Come Around, Green Day.
8. Linger, The Cranberries.
9. You Were Meant for Me, Jewel. (yeah, I know)
10. Interstate Love Song, Stone Temple Pilots.
11. Stay (I Missed You), Lisa Loeb and Nine Stories (yeah, again)
12. Look What You've Done, JET.
13. Jumper, Third Eye Blind.
14. Hands Down, Dashboard Confessional.
15. Buddy Holly, Weezer.
16. Runaway Train, Soul Asylum.
17. Sixth Aveneue Heartache, The Wallflowers.
18. Basket Case, Green Day.
19. A Long December, Counting Crows.
20. Dreams, The Cranberries.
21. Who Will Save Your Soul, Jewel (Dammit!)

At that point, the ipod went off, not sure why...so I ended up with a chosen song.

22. Moab, Conor Oberst.

Any of my music-loving friends can feel free to suggest songs as this endeavor continues. I'll post my "set lists" from every Long Run Friday. I need to go weigh myself. And take a nap.

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