Quantum Me

The other day a friend of mine (a smart one) summarized Stephen Hawking’s recent book on the universe for me. I don’t know much about physics and even less about theoretical physics, so getting me to understand was an uphill battle for her. After all, I’m an archaeologist not a physician. She did an admirable job. She was struck by learning the results of the experiment where buckyballs were shot at a screen with two slits in it. Apparently, the buckyballs don’t go through one slit or another—they go through both at the same time, as they become a probability cloud. To my untrained mind, that means that there are multiple outcomes to this experiment and everything else…and I gather that is the basis of quantum physics. By the way, the physician thing was a joke. I know that people who do physics are called magicians; I was merely making a clever play on words there.

As I was riding my bike on Monday, my mind started to wander. I often let it do that because it distracts from the discomfort I sometimes experience and also keeps me from asking the inevitable, logical question—why am I doing this to myself? Anyway, this quantum thing started percolating in my brain and I realized it explained a lot more than buckyballs. It explains much of what seems to be contradictory human behavior.

How is that someone whose religion teaches to take care of the poor can ignore and even make fun of homeless people? Well, they are a probability cloud. I only see them behaving in one way, but in other universes they actually understand and follow the tenants of their religion.

How is that someone, who three years ago told me that it is unpatriotic to question the President, now tells me they hate the president and think he is a socialist? They are a probability cloud. In other universes, they remain perfectly consistent and fully support the president now just as they did three years ago. I am just experiencing different universes.

How is it that Al Gore invented the internet? Well, Al is a probability cloud and in another universe I believe he did invent the internet. In the same way, I believe there are lots of universes where President Clinton did not have sexual relations with that woman.

This is really quite a relief to me because all of this contradictory behavior that I see in people is unsettling and just plain hard to understand. Now I know they are not to blame. It is the way of the universes. It also is quite liberating because now I don’t have to worry about contradicting myself. In another universe I remain perfectly consistent. I’m just doing what a probability cloud would do.

In addition to providing cover for my behavior, this quantum thing opens up all sorts of new possibilities. If you shot a bunch of Fat Archaeologists at the UCI Pro Tour schedule this year, at least one of me would end up riding the Tour de France. I am really excited because I’ve always wanted to compete at that level. If you end up in that universe, I hope you will see fit to don your devil suit, fat suit, or antlers and run alongside me as I ascend Alpe d‘Huez. You might remind me to just ride through it. 

Thanks for the Mantra

I like mantras. They work for me. I think this is because it is easy for me to empty my mind and allow the mantra to help me focus. Being shallow and vacuous really helps with the mind emptying.  I used a couple of mantras when I was trying to lose weight last year. I have a new mantra this year that I am using to help me focus and train for my first 100-mile ride. And I need it because I really fell out of shape fast over my break in December.

A friend of mine (Clem) inadvertently gave me the mantra last year. He has been cycling for a very long time and had offered me some advice when he learned I was preparing to ride a century. He was thinking I intended to ride a full century, but really I was gearing up for a metric century (100km or 62 miles—big difference). He told me that most people hit some difficulty at around mile 85 and I should plan to ride through it.

Now, Clem is from New Hampshire, so he’s got that understated way of answering questions like many New Englanders. You’ve heard the stories. An out-of-town traveler is lost somewhere in New England and he pulls up to an old guy working in his front yard. The traveler asks, “Can I get to Nashua on this road?” The old guy responds simply, “Nope,” and continues his yard work. The traveler persists with, “Can you tell me how to get to Nashua?” Again the old guy gives only a short reply, this time without looking up from his work, “Ahyep.” Exasperated, the out-of-town traveler drives away.

I once asked Clem why I was experiencing pain in my quads when I did rides longer than 30 miles. His only response was that I was pedaling too slowly. Now, if I had been talking to him face-to-face I could have stared at him blankly until he expanded his response. Since this was done via email, I was left to be annoyed and wonder what the hell he meant. After some research, I learned that he meant I was using too hard of a gear (therefore pedaling too slowly), overtaxing muscles designed for short, powerful bursts of energy, and wearing those muscles out to the point of pain. If I used an easier gear (and pedal faster), I would use muscles designed for lower effort but longer-term exertion…and my quads wouldn’t hurt and I would be able to ride longer distances. He was right.

So when Clem told me I would experience “some difficulty” on my century, I knew there was a lot more to it than a little spot of trouble.  I’ve done enough endurance kinds of things (hiking the AT, 50 miler canoe trip, long-distance running) to know what he meant by “some difficulty.” That “some difficulty” is an emotional crisis spurred by your body hitting a low physical point. I am sure there is a good biological explanation for when it comes and why and I suppose if I studied it I might find out how to avoid it or mitigate its effects. For now, I am content to know what it feels like…there is self-doubt and even panic as you question whether you can do what you have set out to do. You either convince yourself that you can’t do it and start making plans to quit or force yourself to continue on. Forcing yourself beyond that impulse to quit is not easy, emotionally or physically. Clem’s sage advice…plan to ride through it…is classically understated, but spot on.

So now as I’ve started training for a real century this season, and Clem’s words are planted in my head…plan to ride through it. So now as I visualize doing a century, I think about just riding through different kinds of difficulties…“at mile 85 a beaver will begin to slowly chew your foot off at the ankle—just plan to ride through it…your left lung will slowly collapse leaving you gasping for breath—just plan to ride through it…your lower body will become completely numb and then feel like pins and needles—just plan to ride through it.”

 

I’ve already gotten to put my new mantra to work while riding as well. I want to build a base of about 500 miles on my new bike before I go into any specific training routine this winter and I started that seriously this week. Of course, I’ve started that with a new bike, new body position, and with feet clipped to the pedals. My body needs to get used to all of those changes and it also needs to get back into the idea of riding long distances. Both are proving challenging. I rode Monday and Friday, each about 30 miles, and struggled both days. In part this is because I’ve recruited a whole new set of muscles into my cycling thanks to the clipless pedals, but I also have lost a fair amount of conditioning.

Yesterday was particularly hard. I did the first 15 miles at too fast of a pace and faced a strong head wind on the return ride. The end result was that my last 15 miles was a sufferfest. Fortunately, I knew what I was in for in short order and I just planned to ride through it---which I did.

So, Clem, thanks for the mantra.

Clipless Pedals Have Changed My Life…

Ever since I got my new bike I’ve wanted to get clipless pedals and shoes. All the serious cyclists use them and I want to be a serious cyclist. Now, the point of clipless pedals is to attach your foot directly to the pedal. You may ask yourself, as I once did, why anyone would want to do that. I can understand why you want to attach your foot to say, a ski or snowboard. You don’t want them to come off of you while you are going down the hill and bindings keep them attached. Of course, they come off if you fall. It is harder to see the same connection with bike pedals. I really don’t need anything keeping me on my bike. Gravity does a pretty good job of that and when gravity fails to keep me on I really don’t want anything holding the pedals to my feet. Like ski bindings, clipless pedals will detach from your foot if you fall and you can pull your feet out. But still, it is somehow different.

Now cyclists are a strange lot known to do strange things for dubious reasons. Take shaving legs. What is the point of that? The best explanation I’ve seen is that if you crash and scape the skin off your leg and you haven’t shaven it, then you’ll get real problems with ingrown hairs as the wound heals. OK, maybe. I think it really is just part of a cyclist’s rite of passage. In rites of passage, individuals are removed from the social group, changed in some way, and re-introduced to the group as someone different. It is a way of helping everyone deal with the change in social role of individuals. In this case, the separation comes from long rides away from home, especially group rides with other cyclists. The change is the leg shaving—a physical indication that you have accepted membership in the cycling world. Your re-introduction into society comes when non-cyclists see that you have shaved your legs. I, by the way, have yet to go through this rite.

Is this pedal thing just another odd cycling thing to make us different and also bind us together in the brother and sisterhood of being attached to your bike? That is surely part of it, but the real reason to clip in is that it improves the efficiency of your pedal stroke…because you can pull up as well as push down. I actually read that clipping in can increase the efficiency of your pedaling by 30%.

So, I got some shoes on Friday and Clem gave me some pedals on Saturday. Sunday I had the bike shop to fit me to my bike with the new clipless pedals and shoes…they adjusted the seat height and position to make sure my feet—now attached to the pedals—were in their optimum position.  Even before I took my first ride with the new shoes and pedals, my life improved by 30%. My children were 30% happier, more dedicated to their studies, more likely to listen to me, and, yes, even 30% better looking. My wife and I were 30% more in love and 30% happier with our lives. I took my first ride today and my experience was 30% more satisfying. The traffic was 30% friendlier, the hills were 30% flatter, the route was 30% prettier, the cliff bars tasted 30% better, and the water was 30% more refreshing. The thing was that other things seemed to increase by 30%. There was 30% more traffic on the road, it seemed 30% bumpier, the little rat-dog that chases me on Pincushion Road seemed 30% more determined and 30% faster, and it felt 30% colder. My ass hurt 30% more, I got tired 30% faster, and when I was finished with the ride I was 30% more tired.

So, the big question…did that 30% increase in pedaling efficiency pay dividends on the ride? Well, actually no. I rode my usual 30-mile ride, but I did it at a slower pace than usual. While I did feel how being attached to the pedals allowed me to get more out of the pedaling, it also helped me discover a whole new set of muscles that haven’t been participating in my cycling adventure…the ones that help to pull the pedals up after the down stroke. So now I feel pretty wiped out and drained and I know tomorrow there will be new muscles hurting.

So, all in all, the bump my life got from the new pedals was cancelled out by the bump my life’s challenges got, too. My cycling was not instantly improved, either. The pedals didn’t change my life. But, at this point I have everything I need to start the cycling season. No more obsessing about bikes for sale on EBay or which shoes to buy. No more waiting to get the pedals, shoes, and my bike set up. I have nothing left to focus on except actually riding and getting ready to ride 100 miles.

Of course, there is still that cycling computer that will give me heart rate and cadence data…there are a ton of those in EBay right now.

Don't Tread on My History

I love this flag. I always have. I spent an important, formative part of my childhood in New Hampshire where people are keenly aware of and also very proud of that independence minded spirit that gave birth to the Sons of Liberty. My parents have always both been fiercely independent and at the same time very proud of what our county stands for. I always thought of New England as the epicenter of the American Revolution, until I moved to South Carolina and realized there was more than one.

This flag, called the Gadsden Flag, has an illustrious and interesting history. Most attribute its beginnings to what some call America’s first political cartoon. Of course, it was drawn by none other than Benjamin Franklin in 1754:

 

 [Benjamin Franklin's woodcut from May 9, 1754. Newspaper Serial and Government Publications Division, Library of Congress]

It shows a snake cut into eight pieces, with each piece labeled with a colony name. Its caption reads, “Join, or Die” and it was a plea for colonial unity during the French and Indian War—remember that war? It is part of that on-going unpleasantness between France and Englad that spilled over into North America. It was a fight over territory in North America—territory that was British land, portions of the Thirteen Colonies.

Franklin’s snake caught on in the Colonial independence movement.  It was used on buttons, standards, and even money. It appeared  20 years later in the masthead (engraved by none other than Paul Revere) for a Boston paper called the Massachussets Spy, published by Isiah Thomas and a year later became the central symbol on the newly formed Continental Navy’s standard in 1775.

 [Masthead of Thomas's Boston Journal, July 7, 1774. Newspaper Serial and Government Publications Division, Library of Congress.]

The Marines commissioned to accompany the new Navy on its first mission were observed carrying drums painted with a yellow background on which was a coiled rattlesnake with the words below it reading, “Don’t Tread on Me.”

In December of 1775 an anonymous person who was listed only as the American Guesser, wrote into the Philadelphia Journal about the image on those drums. ..”in order to divert an idle hour.” The Guesser first asserted that the rattlesnake must have been chosen as a distinctly American symbol presumably because it is a distinctly American snake (only found in the Americas). He or she further observed that the rattlesnake had sharp eyes and therefore must represent vigilence and then went on to say:

"She never begins an attack, nor, when once engaged, ever surrenders: She is therefore an emblem of magnanimity and true courage. ... she never wounds 'till she has generously given notice, even to her enemy, and cautioned him against the danger of treading on her."

The rattles apparently puzzled the Guesser until he or she realized that there were exactly 13 of them on the snake—the same number as the Colonies…causing further reflection:

"'Tis curious and amazing to observe how distinct and independent of each other the rattles of this animal are, and yet how firmly they are united together, so as never to be separated but by breaking them to pieces. One of those rattles singly, is incapable of producing sound, but the ringing of thirteen together, is sufficient to alarm the boldest man living."

Most scholars agree that the American Guesser was Benjamin Franklin…and I suppose logically it was Franklin who painted the snakes on the drums of those first Marines. All I can say is that Franklin was one brilliant guy who knew how to use symbols and words to influnce minds and inspire action. By comparison our politicians today are a bunch of crass, screaming, slobbering idoits…regardless of their political leanings.

The flag is generally known as the Gadsden Flag, not the Franklin Flag. Part of the brilliance of Franklin was his ability to take his famous personality out of the communication and convince regular people that his views were their views. Written by the American Guesser, the symbolism and ideals communicated in that letter were disseminated without being associated with Franklin. It is called the Gadsden Flag because Christopher Gadsden, leader of the Sons of Liberty in South Carolina and a patriot’s patriot, gave a version of the flag to the first commander of the Continental Navy during the Continental Congress. From there it was widely used by various militias during the Revolution and has come to us now as a symbol of the Sons of Liberty and the American Revolution.

Today the Gadsden Flag has been adopted as a symbol of the Tea Party Movement. I really don’t have anything against the Tea Party Movement…really, I don’t. I surely don’t agree with their political direction, but I do respect their right to be and to get involved. Actually I am glad they formed and I wish they would become a new and separate political party. Our political system is dominated by two parties, each too embedded within our economic and social power structures to bring about any meaningful change. The only way we can really bring democracy back to our system is by having multiple parties.

Like any movement or ideology, it has its fringe adherents—people who might call for the assissination of a presidential candidate in a public setting, for example. I know that most Tea Party peeps are not that radical, anti-social, or disturbed. Most are rational people, like me, that I could sit and have a civil and even productive conversation with about the direction of our country. For better or worse, the tea party makes its news through its more radical wing.

Co-opting old symbols is a classic part of political movements. In this case, it connects the Tea Party Movement to our glorious American past—a past that no good American would ever question or disparage. How can you criticize or question a patriot? By using the flag, they are calling themselves patriots. Webster’s Dictionary defines a partriot as “one who loves his or her country and supports its authority and interests.”  I think we can probably all agree that questioning your government can be patriotic. We can also agree that patriot is a pretty fluid term that can and has been defined to meet different purposes in different times…the same is true for all words.

Now most dictionaries use a version of the definition of patriot found in Webster’s. When you look online at Dictionary.com, however, you find a second definition included: “a person who regards himself or herself as a defender, esp. of individual rights, against presumed interference by the federal government. “ Obviously, that is a definition pulled from a particular perspective and a distinctly modern context. It is a pretty narrow definition of patriot and one that I wouldn’t necessarily subscribe to.

All of this is not new…it is perfectly human…but I can still object. The meaning of words and symbols are being shaded and disseminated en masse and I don’t like where the shades take us. That flag is a symbol of my history and that history is not a conservative or a liberal history. The tricky thing about co-opting symbols and shading meanings for political gain is that it becomes possible to conflate symbols, meanings, and history with a particular ideological perspective. While that is a recipe for political success, it also is one that tends to limit discourse and makes it possible to demonize opposing views. Just think, for example, if one political viewpoint co-opted religion (for the sake of argument, Christianity) or the capitalistic ideals of the American Dream. Think how easy it would become to replace rational political discourse with labels like godless socialist. Think how divisive that would be for our country and how it would thwart the very things that make democracy work—conversation and compromise.

I can’t stop the Gadsden Flag—an American symbol—from being associated with a political movement that does not represent all of America—it is, after all, speech that is protected by our Constitution. Fortunately, at least for now, I can raise objections to its use in this context without being labeled an enemy of the Fatherland…at least for now.