A Few Steps

Tanner still needs to learn the importance of timely communication. We had talked about running Red Rocks steps together after work yesterday, but he had scheduled band practice for 4:00, expecting to be finished running before then -- apparently, to him, "after work" means noonish. (Wait, I thought he operates on a schedule in which noon means "time to think about getting out of bed". I'm so confused.) I learned all this when I called him at 2:30. Doing the math, I realized that I'd have to leave work right then if we wanted to accomplish any kind of a workout before band practice.

"Why didn't you call me, Dude?"

"Uh, I thought you were going to call me."

"Oh yeah, like I have ESP to know that I need to call a couple of hours earlier because you scheduled a band practice that overlaps with the time we had already discussed for our workout?"

"Uh...splunge?"

OK, whatever. Fortunately, I have some vacation I could use, so I left the office immediately and headed over to pick him up. If you know teenagers at all, you can probably guess what happened next. That's right -- he came running out of the house and told me he needed another 2 minutes to get ready. And 15 minutes later, he finally was.

Well, almost. He had to bring his keyboard and stand, which was fine -- I put the back seat down and he loaded them in. Then he said he needed to find a belt. (Mid-buttock pants position is essential for slacker-gen fashion acceptability, but leaves much to be desired when your plan is to run up stairs without tripping over your own drawers, you know. Even those who are fanatically committed to the public display of their boxer shorts will eventually concede that belt loops do indeed serve a purpose, at least in limited situations.) I had already changed into my running shorts (with both elastic waistband and a drawstring, doncha know), so the belt I had worn with my work slacks was available for loan. He finally got in the car and we headed toward Red Rocks.

It was a gorgeous afternoon, and we weren't the only ones taking advantage of it. In addition to a few other step runners and a couple of saucer-eyed tourists, there was some sort of workout class doing leg lifts and crunches up on the stage, accompanied by a boom box playing "Whole Lotta Love". Seriously, is there anything better than a good workout under clear blue skies at the world's most incredible amphitheater, with Led Zep echoing among the rocks?

We only had time for 4 sets of stairs before we had to leave to get the kid to band practice, but that was fine with me. My legs were a little toasted from yesterday's track workout anyway, so I didn't have an overabundance of reserve climbing power. Still, my average speed was a bit faster than it had been the last time I was out there, so I was pleased with the workout.

It'll be interesting to see how sore the boy is; he isn't used to this sort of thing, but he worked really hard. I was moving along pretty well, but he was even faster...and appeared to be a little shaky going back down the ramp on the way to the car. I'm pretty sure he'll be feeling it.

I feel great, today though. And it's such a gorgeous day that I'm tempted to take a bit more vacation and go outside for some sort of afternoon exercise again. We'll see how it goes at work -- if there are no pressing tasks to do, perhaps I shall.

I'll leave you with something to think about, based on my conversation with the boy as we drove over to band practice. Are "scat" singers better at vocal control and pitch accuracy than regular crooners? Is Mel Tormé really a master of the vocal arts...or just a guy who has trouble remembering lyrics? We'll file that topic away for a future discussion. But you can give it some thought if you like, and have a great day!