Day 188: Passive Resistance

At 22, I went to a concert with a friend. It was a smallish venue in Seattle, Ned's Atomic Dustbin was playing. Security was all around the place, with a 3 foot high barrier 3 feet from the stage. With the concert in motion, people dancing and singing with the songs they knew, I straddled the barrier between the crowd and the stage, mounted the stage and cast myself off into, or onto the crowd below. I drifted across the crowd, on my back, handed from one group to another and placed gently on the periphery of the crowd. Working my way back through the crowd of dancing people, I did this same thing a few more times during the 2 hour concert. At the end of the night, a security guard told me it was strictly prohibited by the venue to crowd surf.

Tuesday evening, at the pool, there was a large group of men who commandeered the hot tub. They were loud, drinking and smoking, though it is clearly marked those things were not allowed. I asked JE what he thought about that. That was the first time we spoke about passive resistance.

A friend of mine was telling me that because he has metal parts in his body, he inevitably gets stopped at security in the airport. So... He wore a heavy winter coat and was told to take it off before he went through the metal detector. Under the coat, he wore only a Speedo. Security flipped out, and tried to make him put his coat back on; which he did, once he was through the detector.

This evening, as we were cycling home, JE asked if I wanted to try out the new bike trail. Yes, indeedy, please! He led me on a path that dead ended in a six foot fence which was wired shut with a small bit of wire. He unwound the wire and slipped his bike through, explaining that the trail was scheduled for completion in November... 2010. We did the same thing through three gates, until we were walking our cycles over a stretch of gravel toward the new cycling bridge. The trail isn't complete, it seems to be missing 20 feet of asphalt. What on earth could take that long???

I seem to be having a battle of wills with my crazy Achilles tendon. We both seem to want the exact opposite of what the other wants. My ankle wants me to be immobile, non-running and frail. I want to run, to be strong, and to live boldly. My run this morning began very painfully; more like hopping along on tiptoe. Eventually the tendon stopped hurting. Running became fun, sort of a game (I was plugged in and the song "Kiss with a Fist," by Florence and the Machines was playing. It is a great running song). Four miles, pain free after the first quarter mile. And afterward, that doggone passive resistance from my ankle. Peace talks include ice, elevation and long hours in front of the computer making a business plan.