Chi Chi Fazzari – “My Momma’s Running For President”

Clarita “Chi Chi” Fazzari Candidate for United States President 2008 “My Momma’s Running For President” Performed by The Independent Ride In Gang Written By Vinny Fazzari and Michael Tobin

Dying Professor Teaches his Students How To Live

Lou Gehrig's disease hasn't stopped law professor Steven Gey's lessons

By John Barry, Times Staff Writer

TALLAHASSEE — Steven Gey's law students kept their part of the deal. Last Saturday morning, they swam, biked and ran in a triathlon for Lou Gehrig's disease research. They raised $50,000 for the third straight year.

In late afternoon, about 50 students and former students waited for professor Gey to keep his end of the bargain. In a sense, they hoped for him to complete — against all previous odds — his own kind of marathon.

They waited on his patio, beer iced and ready. They had a birthday cake. The cake with garish red icing itself seemed outrageously miraculous, another lesson for all of them. Their professor wasn't supposed to have a 53rd birthday.

The famous Florida State University constitutional law expert is in the third year of terminal illness. That's as long as anyone usually lives after a Lou Gehrig's diagnosis like his.

In the last year, he has nearly starved and suffocated. He lost half his house to Tropical Storm Fay. He lost use of his hands and arms. He even lost his identity to credit thieves.

The students have always had a deal with Gey. If you care, if you try, he has promised them, I'll help you become the kind of lawyers you need to be.

Now here they were on his porch, waiting for him to deliver on another promise.

They're young, and they don't know limits. How much can they expect of a dying teacher?

• • •

Steven Gey is more famous for legal scholarship than for dying. As an American Civil Liberties Union attorney and FSU law professor, he ranks among the nation's top defenders of separation of church and state, of scientific inquiry, of free speech. (His free speech reputation was tarnished only once. He stopped a restaurant chain from singing Happy Birthday To You — a copyright infringement. He has never lived it down.)

He is also famous for turning generations of youths into attorneys and judges.

Last spring, Gey nearly died from malnutrition. He had to give up teaching. He felt bitterly disappointed that the Bush administration had limited embryonic stem cell research for eight years. He felt that the limits had robbed him personally of a possible cure, that the adversaries he had battled in court all his career had somehow beaten him in the end.

Last summer, while on a respirator and feeding tube, he rode out Tropical Storm Fay. It flooded all the bedrooms of his house.

Last Friday, Gey's doctor told him his life had reached "the bottom of the eighth inning."

But he writes. His hands don't work, so he writes with his foot, guiding a computer mouse with his toes. He has just completed two 150-page works of constitutional scholarship. They're headed for the publisher. He also has lived long enough to see a new president reverse the government's standing on embryonic stem cell research.

Barbara Leach, a former student who now practices labor law in Atlanta, was with him just after he got his late-inning diagnosis.

"Bottom of the eighth?" she exclaimed, sitting among his mountains of manuscripts. "Looks to me like you're in the top of the third."

• • •

Third-year law student David Gillis brought his mother, Cathy, to the triathlon for Gey. He's one of the students who brings food to the professor's house. Dave's turn is every other Thursday.

When he started bringing food, he knew Gey mostly by reputation. It made him nervous. "He's this rock star of the legal profession."

Gey told Dave he liked anything, he wasn't fussy. Dave brought his personal favorite: takeout meat loaf from Boston Market.

"You getting tired of meat loaf?" he'd ask.

"No," Gey answered, "Love the meat loaf!"

Two months went by. Finally, Dave heard from a "second party." The professor was really, really tired of meat loaf.

But in the course of those months, Dave's own life changed. His mother said he had chosen law school for the career and for the money. That was it.

He got into Gey's constitutional law class. He admitted to Gey he was more interested in the lawyer trappings than in the law itself. Money's fine, the professor told him. "But where's your passion?"

Gey changed him. His mother could see it. He learned the impact that one lawyer could have. He felt part of something noble, he said. Gey changed her, too. At home in Sarasota she started mentoring.

"We've learned that's what life is about — passion," she said.

• • •

On Saturday afternoon, the students waited with cake and beer on Gey's porch. Gey had not been on his porch in months. But he had told them that if they could endure a triathlon, he could match them.

Inside the house, Gey took a deep breath and untethered his respirator. He swung his legs out of bed, steadied himself.

The double doors to the patio swung open.

Gey came through the doors, on his feet.

He walked a dozen steps across the deck to a chair.

Beers and tears flowed for two hours.

They sang Happy Birthday to You.

They told their professor: Sue us.

 

New Trend in Running: No (or Almost No) Shoes

The Lab Rat
Shoeless Joe
When it comes to running footwear, sometimes less is more.

By Nick Heil

ON A WARM MARCH DAY, in a fit of spring fever, I drove to a nearby park, whipped off my shoes and socks, and set out for a run. I wasn’t just trying to get in touch with my inner Tarahumara; I was investigating the new trend in "natural-motion" running, the purest embodiment of which involves jogging sans shoes.

I didn’t make it very far. After dodging dog droppings and rusty beer cans land-mined across a baseball outfield, I hit a dirt path that immediately began to flay my feet. Even at my tenderfoot pace, my calves knotted up like Chuck Liddell’s fists. Forget this, I thought, giving up after less than a mile, and limped back to the car to recover my smelly old kicks.

For around 40 years, running shoes have been evolving into a $4 billion industry of ever-more-sophisticated support systems involving techy foams, air bladders, springs, rubberized padding, and gel. Recently, however, there’s been a back-to-nature movement, with runners opting for minimalist shoe designs or, in extremis, no shoes at all. "Cushioning gets oversold," says Dr. Stephen Pribut, a biomechanics expert in Washington, D.C., and former president of the American Academy of Podiatric Sports Medicine. "Thinner-soled shoes can give runners important proprioceptive feedback and encourage a shorter stride and midfoot strike, all of which helps prevent injury."

Natural-motion evangelists believe our feet have become "lazy," overswaddled in unnecessary layers of fabric and foam. This allows runners to strike heavily on their heels, driving the impact of each foot plant straight up into their ankles, knees, and hips. With less shoe, the argument goes, you land on your midfoot, so your ankle and knee joints work more like shock-absorbing springs, warding off joint problems, plantar fasciitis, and even sprains. A 1997 study published in the British Journal of Sports Medicine concluded that the more heavily engineered (and, typically, more expensive) the shoe, the more likely it was to contribute to an injury.

Some proponents, like "Barefoot Ted" McDonald, of Seattle, take the trend to its limit: If less shoe is better, no shoe must be best. "The beauty of barefoot running is that there is nothing forcing your foot to do something other than what it wants to do," says McDonald, who’s run 20 marathons and ultramarathons unshod.

The first company to chase this small but growing community was Nike. In 2005, it released the Free, a shoe with so many flexible, underfoot grooves that it mimicked barefoot running. More recently, a raft of companies have followed suit with models that have lower heels and less cushioning, encouraging a barefooter’s short, springy gait.

After my discouraging attempt to go bare in the park, I eased toward full foot nudity by test-driving some of the latest: the New Balance MR800, the Newton Motion, and the Ecco Biom B. Within a few weeks, I was converted. I ran longer and faster, and with less soreness afterwards.

I decided to up the ante with the wild-looking, barely-there Vibram FiveFingers. The sole is just half a centimeter of Vibram’s sticky rubber glued to a stretchy, socklike nylon upper, with individual sleeves that wrap each toe like a tiny condom. First released in 2006 for boaters, they were quickly adopted by barefoot runners who don’t like picking shards of old Mickey’s bottles from their feet.

It took me a while to get used to the VFF’s simian appearance, but soon I began wearing them everywhere—walking my dog, going to the store, hiking nearby trails—much to the amusement of my fellow pedestrians. I still couldn’t manage to run more than a few blocks in them, but I soon felt the actual bones, tendons, and ticklish soft spots under my arch getting stronger.

It dawned on me that while I’ve long heaped attention on my core, arms, legs, and shoulders, I’d neglected the foundation of the entire system. Strong feet provide essential balance, power, and speed for a variety of sports, not just running. I began deploying the FiveFingers during drills and gym workouts, rehab exercises after spraining an ankle in a soccer game, and while padding around my house battling writer’s block.

It seems unlikely I’ll ever join the tribe of barefoot runners, but I do intend to refocus on my feet as a woefully overlooked link in my fitness chain. Sometimes it pays to rethink your basic assumptions about training. This time, my overhaul is happening from the ground up.

Outside Magazine, June 2009

 

In the same category: The Running Shoe Debate: How Barefoot Runners are Shaping the Shoe Industry

 

 

The Fifty-Plus Triathlete (Or, I May Be Slow, but I’m Not Last)

 

10 Running Rules to Remember

Yishane Lee
Runner’s World

1. Do Your Own Thing

Whether you’re running or racing, go your own pace, in your own space. "It gets on my nerves when people sprint ahead, then stop and walk in front of me," says a high school harrier who goes by Sonic Runner online. "When you catch back up to them, they start sprinting." Conversely, ask before you match strides. A "partner" joined Tricia Lee of Flushing, New York, for the entire length of her very first race. "He kept bumping into me—for 13.1 miles."

What annoys me? Guys that can’t handle being beat by girls and try to sprint by me at the end!" —Kelsey Scheitlin Tallahassee, Florida

2. Know Your Place

With 10.5 million people in races in 2007, starting lines get crowded, especially when ambitious (or impatient) runners and walkers start too far in front. "At the Disney marathon, there were some walkers four or five abreast, holding balloons and singing," says Stephan Pinchac of Jackson, New Jersey. "It was exhausting to get around them." If you find yourself slowing down, pull over to one side to let faster runners pass by.

3. Keep it Down

Sure, chatting helps pass the miles, but not everyone wants to eavesdrop. "I had to listen to three ladies discuss their bathroom schedules, and the impact of calcium on their you-know-what," says Margaret Vento-Wilson of Long Beach, California. Other irritants: too-loud iPods, slapping footfalls, jangling keys, and beeping heart-rate monitors. "I ran a 5K next to a guy who kept screaming, ‘Hell, hell, hell,’" says Tom McKlin of Decatur, Georgia. "It was hell!"

4. Leash Your Best Friend

Bringing your pooch to road races is discouraged by most race directors, but many of your fellow competitors won’t mind too much, as long as you keep your four-legged friend close. "At a crowded 8K last fall, a guy running with two dogs refused to tighten up their leashes, so they were constantly moving around and tripping people," says Gwyneth Shaw of Tucson. And no dog imitating, either, please. "A guy at the Lilac Bloomsday Run, in Spokane, Washington, barked like a dog for 7.46 miles," says John Hildebrand of Saint Regis, Montana.

5. Watch Your Step

There is a reason why aid stations are often on both sides of crowded race courses—so you don’t have to cut people off to get to them. "One year at the Lilac Bloomsday, a young runner crossed right in front of me to get to one of the tables, forcing me to come to a near-abrupt stop," says Rod Steadman of Spokane. "After a sip or two, he did it again!" Doing a run-walk plan? "Pull over to the side so you don’t hurt someone behind you," says Laresa McIntyre of Singer Island, Florida.

"To the guy at the Napa marathon who used his cell to let his friends know the view at mile 14 was great: Please hang up the phone!" —Ron Harvey Tracy, California

6. Aim Fluids Carefully

Yes, sometimes the fastest thing running is your nose. But please, focus on where you aim your snot rocket, or your spit. "One guy actually nailed me with a giant loogey during a training run on a path," says Wendy Shulik of Chicago. "I was behind him, unfortunately. I’ve also been splattered by spitters during many a race. So gross!" Also watch where you toss your half-finished cup of water. "I have never had blisters so huge, thanks to the butterfingers who poured a cupful down the back of my legs during the Miami Marathon," says Chris Sahs of Miami.

7. Don’t Stink

"I once got stuck on a treadmill next to a person who reeked of smoke," says C.J. Epperson. Unpleasant odors carry outdoors, too. It should go without saying, but wear clean clothes and limit your use of personal products. "I ran the Chicago Marathon next to a guy who had slathered on smelly menthol stuff," says Pat Agnello of Brook Park, Ohio. "Phew-ee!" Runners tend to be forgiving of bodily functions, but there’s a limit. "I ran behind a guy who smelled like he ate a ton of bean burritos and drank a gallon of green chile before the race," Joe McLennan of Denver says. "He stunk, bad."

8. Dress for Your Mom

Unless it’s part of the program, as with San Francisco’s Bay to Breakers, refrain from silly costumes and minimalist attire. "Some friends and I ran the ING Georgia Marathon in Atlanta last year, and if you were there, you’ll remember the guy who was wearing nothing but a canary-yellow Speedo," Tom McKlin of Decatur, Georgia says. "Mr. Banana Hammock was a little doughy, and once the sweat seeped through the Speedo…let’s just say that parents were covering their children’s eyes."

9. No Whining

"The ones who quit a quarter of the way through a race because they’re tired—or worse, not beating everyone else—now that’s infuriating!" says Coyla Coblentz of Geneva, Indiana. Lapsed runners who have quit running entirely because they think it has wrecked some aspect of their bodies—and remind you repeatedly it will happen to you, just you wait!—deserve special opprobrium. Michael Chertoff, the secretary of the Department of Homeland Security, notes that his boss warns him off running all the time. The president, he says, "consistently tells me that I’m going to ruin my knees and that I should start to bike. I tell him I’m going to run as long as I can."

"I hate it when people yell, ‘You’re nearly there!’ when there are still several miles to go. When there’s no finish line in sight, I’m not ‘nearly there’!" —Heather Shea Danbury, Connecticut

10. Just Run

"The most annoying runners are those who are sure their way is the only way—no headphones, no loud talking, no this, no that," says Susan Funk of Mystic, Connecticut. "Better to see more people out and exercising than defining who is doing it ‘right.’" Adds Cindy Cauzzort of Zephyrhills, Florida, "I don’t mind making room for someone faster or going around someone slower. After all, we are only in competition with ourselves. It’s not about winning—it’s about finishing what you start."

 

 

 

3 Ways to Stay Cool on the Run

 

By John Hanc
 

Miami Ice: Steve Brookner of the Bikila Athletic Club in Miami came up with this idea while running the marathon leg of Ironman Arizona. "They had thin sponges at each aid station," he says. "So I took one and grabbed a couple of ice cubes." He put the cubes on top of the sponge, then put his hat on over both. As the ice melted into the sponge, it created a cool spot on his head and a nice trickle of water running down his neck.

The Tucson Cold Cap: Randy Accetta, president of the Southern Arizona Roadrunners and a 1996 Olympic Trials marathoner, keeps his head cool in the extreme heat of Tucson with his "cold cap." "I’ll soak a baseball cap in water and put it in the fridge for at least 30 minutes or overnight before a morning run," he says. "An old baseball cap retains the moisture longer than the new technical hats."

The Badwater Bandanna: For years, Denise Jones puzzled over the best way to keep the competitors in the Badwater Ultramarathon cool. Finally, Jones—considered the "dean" of Badwater aid-station volunteers—came up with the answer: Lay a bandanna out in a diamond shape. Place a row of ice cubes in a horizontal line, just below one tip of the bandanna. Then roll it up "like a burrito," and tie it around your neck. "We’ve found that this is the best way to keep runners cool," she says. "It feels wonderful."

 

 

 

7 Ways to Beat the Summer Heat

 

 By John Hanc
 

The members of the 3-year-old Bikila Athletic Club, located in Miami and named in honor of the late Ethiopian marathoner Abebe Bikila, know something about heat training. Those new to the  club, which currently includes 80 runners, are given the following list of tips by Steve Brookner, president of the Bikila AC. A 49-year-old runner, triathlete, and coach, Brookner has been living and training in South Florida since 1979. The list, he says, is designed to help newbies survive Miami’s dreaded "80-80s"–days where both the temperature and the humidity percentage are in the 80s or above. This happens most days from April through October.

Train at 5 a.m.
"The world is so full of promise when viewed at sunrise," Brookner says. True, but equally important, it’s a little cooler. Put in your miles before the sun is high.

Cross-train indoors
Build your cardio base while taking a break from the heat and humidity by swapping an outdoor bike ride for an inside spin class.

Do speedwork on a treadmill
Intensity of exercise is a major factor in heat distress—the harder you run, the higher your risk. Plus, when you try to run fast in extreme heat, Brookner points out, "your perceived effort almost always exceeds your actual effort." To make your intervals safer and more productive, stay in and run as fast as you like in air-conditioned comfort.

Ease into the heat
Do a slow, two- to three-mile walk or very easy run at the hottest part of the day two times per week for three or four weeks to acclimate to the heat. "It makes the morning run feel cool," says Brookner.

Have a hydration plan before you start
Know where your water stops are, either by plotting your runs in areas that have water fountains or by stashing bottles at strategic points along your route ahead of time. Also get in touch with local running clubs and training groups to find out where they might put out jugs, so you can share.

Don’t just drink the water
A combo run-and-swim workout is perfect on really hot days. One of Brookner’s favorites is a three-mile run from the Cocoplum traffic circle to Matheson-Hammock Park in Coral Gables, Florida. There, he and his buddies dive into the cool, clear waters of the nearby lagoon, swim for 15 to 30 minutes, get out, and run back. You can re-create this duathlon anywhere there’s a body of water, or even a local pool.

Plan to race in cool temperatures
For Brookner, registering for a fall marathon "up north," such as Marine Corps or New York, basically guarantees relief from the heat. And the cooler race temperature is like a key unlocking the sultry shackles that have bound his feet throughout the summer. "When I show up in New York for the marathon in November and it’s in the 70s, the New Yorkers are all like ‘ugh,’ and I’m saying, ‘Bring it on!’"