The New York Times News Alert: Venus

I just came online and found a NY Times.com News Alert. My blood pressure always rises a bit when I see one of those announcements, which often relate to one catastrophe or another. As I reject the subject line, I saw the word "Venus."

Perhaps because I'm working on a novel about traveling to Mars and hence thinking astromically these days, I imagined I was about to read a story related to space travel. I was close to clicking the link when I noticed that the subject line said: "Venus Williams Defeats..."

A sports story masquerading as news. This is the world we inhabit, where a game is treated with the same importance as war, the economy, education, life and death.

Sports Memories

While falling asleep the other night, I suddenly found myself visually recalling a sporting event from years ago. The specific image isn't important. What matters is that I got a "hit" from the memory, almost as if I were a spectator at a live event.

In the days before I began this journey of kicking my sports addiction, I probably would have happily watched the memory. But now, I shook my head and turned it off, just as I do when a sports report pops up on TV or radio.

But now I realize that staying sober isn't just about avoiding the temptations out there. I have discovered an addiction mindfield within. Just as certain media are offlimits, areas of my brain must now be avoided.

For example, when I hear the date "1954," I think of Willie Mays making the celebrated World Series catch that sank my Cleveland Indians. Dates like that can be dangerous triggers for people like me who want to live sports-free.

Playing More Sports

I am spending a lot more time in physical activity now that I am not spectating. This inverse ratio seems obvious--if I'm watching TV I can't be playing. Still, the experience of doing more surprises and delights me.

Specifically, I'm walking more (hiking, really), biking more, and playing more vigorous games with my granddaughters.

A few years ago I read THE CHOLESTEROL MYTH, a book--by a physician--claiming that cholesterol levels were not the main problem with heart disease. The author speculated that the two killers are obesity and a sedentary lifestyle. I do not know if the author is right, but I certainly feel better these days.

Sound of Temptation

Yesterday, I walked passed a parked car whose radio was tuned to a baseball game. I didn't hear any details. But ust the rhythm of the sportcaster's voice and the ambience of the crowd gave me a warm feeling. Instantly, I was transported to summer afternoons, long ago, in Cleveland, when we lazed about in the backyard or on the front porch, listening to the Indians broadcast.

I don't remember much about my life then, but I do remember that the main sponsor was a beer called Erin Brew. I didn't like beer then, but I liked the commercials and the patter.

So yesterday, for a moment, I felt like drawing close to the car and taking in a "whiff" of the game. The hunger for a bit of nostalgia was strong. But then I realized what I was doing, seeking a quick spectator fix.

I turned and walked away. Close call.

Is Reading Spectating?

My major objection to spectator sports is its passivity. While the players play, the spectators are limited to watching, commenting, and...eating. Now, finally, I'm interested in being as active as the players. When it comes to athletics, I want to bike, swim, kick, throw, catch, and just generally put myself on the line.

But this brings up a question: Is reading to living as spectating is to playing? For example, last week I read John Le Carre's first novel, CALL FOR THE DEAD. In it, master spy George Smiley engages in a wide variety of actions: observing, planning, arguing, drinking, and even physical fighting. All the while, I lay on my back reading about George. I found myself wishing that I were a spy, but I wasn't doing anything remotely close to spying.

If the analogy holds--if reading is as passive as watching sports--perhaps I should give up reading and start living.

The Dipsea

The Dipsea foot race--occuring for nearly a century in Marin County California-- is the second-oldest running event in the U.S., right behind The Boston Marathon. Mike D., a friend of mine has has won five black shirts, emblamatic of finishing in the top 35--out of more than 1000 runners.

When I told Mike about this blog, at first he seemed displeased, as if I were against sports. "No," I told him, "I love sports. Humanity would be less human without sports. I'm against SPECTATOR sports that make viewers feel as if they have accomplished something when their teams win ("We're number 1!"), while making viewers feel sad when their teams lose.

In a race like The Dipsea, the runners involved put everything on the line. They spend months in training. They risk injury. They ask their bodies to perform feats that are truly amazing. I admire people who engage in sports, whether they win or lose.

Last Sunday, on the day of the Dipsea, I took a short hike in my neighborhood. I chose a path that includes a short but strenuous uphill climb--nothing nearlyy as challenging as the climbs in the Dipsea. I found myself breathing hard, wondering if I could make it to the top, realizing that I am not in good shape. I felt the sweat under my arms. I had to talk to myself, urging me to keep at it. When I reached the top of the hill, I found myself in awe of the thousand plus runners who, at that moment, were doing the Dipsea.

Playing sports is good. Investing hours watching other people playing sports is--in my opinion--a sad waste of the precious hours given to us.

Learning Something New Everyday

I've been promoting my book--WORDS OF A FEATHER--by guest blogging.

Recently, I posted a piece at BrainDump (http://sidebernie.livejournal.com/), which is devoted to the idea that a person should learn something new everyday. I realized that many days go by and I can't say I've learned anything new.

I'm persuaded that watching sports--while relaxing and entertaining--absolutely interferes with learning. I'm not against relaxation and fun. But on balance, I believe that my life will be richer--and more worth living--if I use my time for learning.

Today, for example, I learned that the "to" in "tofu" means "beans" and that the "fu" means "fermented." Is that as good as watching a big league infield turn a double play? Certainly in the moment, there is something thrilling about watching professional athletes perform. But in the long, I'd rather--to echo Thoreau--know beans.