As long as I can remember, I’ve done quite a bit of physical activity – from riding on the back of somebody’s bicycle at 3 or 4 to lots of snow shoveling this winter. The first-named led to a bleeding ankle; the last-named led to a sore back. Not all my physical activity has led to injury, but there have been quite a few “incidents”.
In between I’ve climbed trees, sledded, rode bicycles, played pickup games of baseball, touch football, and basketball, canoed, hiked, and a few organized sports.
In the summer of 1952, nine or more of the boys I hung out with formed a Class F Baseball team. I sometimes pitched, sometimes played third-base, and maybe sat on the bench. The most memorable incident was that I pitched a 0-1 no-hitter. The other team got their run by a combination of walks and stealing. This “feat” made it to the Cleveland Plain Dealer, but they misspelled my name as Melvyn MacGree.
Class F baseball still exists in Cleveland and is still sponsored by the Cleveland Baseball Federation.
In my first year of high school gym, I ran a “mile” in 5:12 and 5:19. The coach suggested I join cross-country team. I never made the cut for the seven that counted, just part of the crowd that might push some in the other sevens down in finish ranking. In one race I did slow down to help one of our seven who had been hit in some way by an opposing runner.
I also joined the cross-country team in my second year of college. But I didn’t do so well as I developed “shin splints”. I got some therapy for them, but they plagued me now and then.
I did take a fitness class at a Y in my forties. That included gradually increasing running distance. I was proud of myself when I ran a mile in about eight minutes.
Now it’s a big deal for me to walk from my house to UMD.
A high-school classmate recommended that I join the wrestling team. I did and managed to be the 133 lb. wrestler for a couple of years. There was no one else in that weight class. If there was, I generally won the wrestle-off for a meet. I had a miserable record. I was often taken down in less than a minute. The coach selected five or so wrestlers to go to state, none me, of course. Every year at least one of those guys won a state title. My last year I had a better record, I think 4-3. It should have been 5-2, but being a January starter, I graduated the night before my last allowed match. Guess what lots of high-school graduates do. At least, I lost on points rather than by a takedown.
I practiced with the Case Institute of Technology wrestling team. I wrestled in intramurals at 147 for a fraternity I didn’t join. The first guy was a well-muscled rock. That was how he behaved. When he had the down position, I could not budge him. I even sat back on my heels to give my opponent a chance to move. He didn’t. When I had the down position he gripped me tight but made no move to get better control. The score: 0-0! I won a referee’s decision for being more aggressive. My second was with another team freshman. This was a much more interesting match: 4-4. Again, I won on referee’s decision. The last match should have been the hardest. I won 7-2. However, I never made the cut to wrestle in a team match.
After I flunked out of Case, I went to Ohio Wesleyan University. I wrestled once in the intramurals at 154 as an independent. I really don’t remember any of the matches, but I won all of them. I had practiced with team, but I never made the cut for a match.
I took up skiing in the early sixties. I took a week off work to learn at Buck Hill. After the class I did snow-plows on my own. On one run I was heading straight for the lift. My best tactic was to fall. One ski came off, windmilled, and hit me below the knee. My four-dollar ski pants have a hole in them! There’s blood in there! I’ll spare you more details, but the doctor put extra-padding on the stitches. I did learn enough that week to move beyond the snow plow.
I do have many more ski stories, but I’m running out of space. In the spirit of my “second rate” career, let me tell a bit about my amateur racing. At Spirit Mountain, I qualified for going to the NASTAR nationals. Why? The top three in each gender-age-speed category qualify. Since there were never more than three male racers in my age and speed category, I qualified five times. I went to Park City in 2004 where I was 21 out of 23 and to Steamboat Springs in 2007 where I was 14 out of 15. My times were about twice those of the winners!
I still have a season pass at Spirit Mountain, but I’m getting wimpy about when I go. If the temperature is not above ten degrees Fahrenheit, I’m not too interested.
So, other than sporadic visits to the Essentia Fitness Center, my exercise is some woodcutting, some lawn-mowing, and some snow-shoveling. Now I have a sore back from all this season’s snow shoveling.
Hey, when my back doesn’t bother me, I can do over 30 pushups!
