Garbage in, garbage out: Sports Performance!

 

You’ve probably heard the nutritional advice “garbage in, garbage out.” If you’re really interested in athletic performance, you will pay attention to that.

For that matter, if you’re really interested in good health, you will heed that advice. But, you might ask, “what is garbage” when it comes to what you eat?

It’s easy to jump on the fast food companies in this category but with a little effort, you can eat decent at fast food places. Look for those places that have grilled offerings. You do have to pay attention to the sodium content in a lot of fast foods but there are possibilities out there.

A lot of places provide customers with a list of ingredients and nutritional value on their menu. Several years ago, an attempt was made to require that, but somehow that set of information was squashed.

The hidden salt and sugar in a lot of restaurant items and condiments is absurdly high. And that’s coming from a condiment guy. I love my condiments. I share a genuine love of ketchup with one of my grandsons. He wants it on everything.

Salt, sugar, and flour. If what you’re eating is high in any of those three, you probably qualify for the “garbage in” category. Don’t get me wrong, it’s impossible to avoid all three and I don’t. Moderation is the most we can ask for, most of the time.

I do believe that food is there to enjoy. Big Ed’s pizza. Zaxby’s chicken strips. What my wife cooked for Thanksgiving. A burger from Smalltown BBQ. I do have my weaknesses. Anything from the Italian Apron.

But for the most part, I eat smart. Vegetables. Fruits. Lean meats. I go to the grocery store and look for items with only one name. Asparagus. Carrots. Chicken. Bananas. Bacon (OK, I guess that last one was wishful thinking).

Athletes too often neglect the nutritional aspect of training. On one stint working at the Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs, I was amazed at the volume of food many of the athletes consumed. Mass quantities of mostly healthy food to replace the incredible amount of calories they were burning off in training.

Most athletes aren’t working that hard. Most tend to respond to hunger by eating anything that won’t move. What they’re missing is that what they eat is the fuel for their performance.

Athletes need a balance of protein, complex carbohydrates, and fat. We ignored the fat part for a long time, thinking that all fats were bad. Fats are essential but they have to be good fats. That means avocados, not French fries. 

No one diet is the best for every athlete. You either have to be open to learning on your own (which takes a lot of trial and error) or seek the advice of a nutritionist. What we do know is that the right food can help you compete and to train (we often forget that part).

A pre-game meal used to be whatever you had available. Now, a lot of teams have organized pre-game meals so that their athletes get lean meats, vegetables, and some carbs. Eating a light snack right up to game time works for a lot of people. You can’t run on an empty tank.

Food at halftime used to be taboo. We now know that it is important. Eating a high glycogen meal soon after competing or a hard training session is also important to give you the energy to go again the following day.

You have to find what works for you but it’s safe to say that the burger and fries is not your best option.

You Might Be 70...

 

As I’ve said before, I get ideas for this space from a variety of places.  As my wife pointed out, I got a little too historical last week. She suggested I leave that to Christy Martin, who writes a regular column (and whose writing I look forward to).

A former educator, she is a walking library of Blount County history. I’m not from here but I’ve been here 44 years and definitely have a appreciation for the history of the area.

My point last week was to encourage everyone to get outside and partake! Hike, bike, walk, paddle—whatever. Exercise, history, and culture are available around every corner. There’s a ton of history in tiny Jarvis Park.

This morning, a patient made a comment that has put me off on one of the wildest tangents of my tangent-filled life. Maybe the reason I keep coming up with ideas for this space is that my brain travels wildly.

I blame part of that on growing up with the Encyclopedia Britannica. Those vast volumes were my travel agent, my historical perspective, my window to a world I thought I would never know. I read them with the passion and fervor that I do now with any new John Grisham novel.

A little background, amid all this rambling. I’ve told the story before about how important Boy Scouts were to me. I remember well one Scout leader that had a little knife and could carve the most wonderful of things out of any block of wood.

I was fascinated by it and made many meager attempts at duplicating his work through the years. I was particularly fond of his ball inside a cage and his chain links. It became what I did to occupy times on backpacking and canoeing trips.

I’m not very good at it but I do like to do it and when I told this patient/friend about it, he made the comment “you know, if you’ve taken up whittling, you might be 70!”

Well, uh, yeah. I’m 70 now (although it still doesn’t feel like it). What transpired next was a typical screaming train of thought and now you get to hear all about it. With all due respect to Jeff Foxworthy, here we go

If you take up whittling, you might be 70. Ok, I’ve been whittling my whole life but that new scroll saw is opening a lot of new carving doors.

If you were your family’s remote control when you were a kid, you might be 70. And there weren’t but three channels and ABC was on channel 26 and didn’t come in very well.

If you remember using the card catalog at the library, you might be 70. These days, we just jump on the computer and libraries have become so much more than just a repository for books.

If you ever visited the airport to watch planes take off, you might be 70. We did that. Old McGhee-Tyson Airport. It was fascinating. And now I’ve flown in one enough that it’s almost like riding in a bus.

If you remember who Mr. Green Jeans was, you might be 70. And Howdy Doody. And Dudley Do-Right. Spanky and Our Gang. The Three Stooges.

If you can’t really remember the last time you literally “hopped” out of bed in the morning, you might be 70. Now you stop, stretch, make sure you have feeling in your feet, then slowly pull yourself up.

If you’ve ever bragged about your lawn mower, you might be 70. OK. Guilty. And for the record, it’s a Scag that feels like it is fast enough to compete on the NASCAR circuit.

The Meigs Line

 

I love our Smoky Mountains. Always have. I’m sure it started with my parents, who made regular trips into the Smokies.  I have early memories of those trips and photos that predate my memories.

When it came time to go through my mom’s stuff, I kept all her photos. In going through those, I found a photo that I hadn’t seen before. It was my much younger parents standing in front of their car with the Newfound Gap monument in the background.

It appears that my parents attended the dedication ceremony opening the Great Smoky Mountain National Park in 1940. They never told me that. My dad was about to head to World War II so I guess it faded into a distant memory.

I have a photo of myself when I was probably about three.  I’m standing in snow up to my waist, somewhere in the Smokies. I remember my dad would put chains on the tires of his vehicle and go anywhere.

Boys Scouts just perpetuated my love for these mountains. And when it came time to pick the place to live the rest of my life, there wasn’t but one choice. Along the way, I built a house on a high ridge out in the county with a spectacular view of my beloved mountains.

I’ve always had an interest in the history of the area.  I remember when Durwood Dunn’s book, “Cades Cove-The Life and Death of a Southern Appalachian Community 1818-1937” came out. I was fascinated. Later, I found “The Cades Cove Story” by Dr. Randolph Shields, who grove up in the Cove, graduated from Walland High and Maryville College, then later was Biology Professor at Maryville College.

 

A couple of weeks ago, in one of my columns, I mentioned the Oak trees on Big Springs Road that were part of the Hawkins-Pickens Line of 1797. These trees marked the southern boundary of America and the northern boundary of the Cherokee Nation. You may remember that the Hawkins-Pickens Line later became the Meigs Line, which runs from the Southwest Point Fortress near Kingston straight through Blount County to Meigs Mountain in the Smokies and then on into North Carolina.

How cool is that?!? I have since delved deeper into that story, first reading “Meigs Line” by Dwight McCarter and Joe Kelley, then inhaling a series of books about these mountains.

Among the other books I couldn’t put down are Horace Kephart’s “Our Southern Highlands” and Inez Burns’ “History of Blount County.” And I’m only getting started.

My point is this: There is a rich cultural heritage here, literally in our back door. Durwood Dunn pointed out that this wasn’t an area of dumb hillbillies. Indeed, it was filled with intelligent, resourceful people with integrity and ambition.

And we get to explore it. Pretty much anytime we want to. I can leave my office and be in the foothills in 10 minutes and the national park in another 15. Easy.

I don’t take advantage of it as often as I would like to. I love Cades Cove, but I don’t go there. Too many cars. I love Jarvis Park but I’ve only been there a couple of times and it could not be any more convenient. Indian Flats Falls. Messer Barn and the old Smoky Mountain Hiking Club Cabin along the Porter's Creek Trail. The Walker Sisters Cabin.

We are surrounded by so much glory and grandeur that I couldn’t list all the places on my short list in this little space. You just need to go out and check them out for yourself.

You will be healthier, happier, better adjusted, and a better partner. You have problems that are stressing you out? Go for a walk. Need to clear your head? Find a quiet spot by Little River. Life just seeming to be overwhelming? Go to the forest and be absorbed in the sights and sounds.

But here’s my best advice: Go where the people aren’t. You will figure it out.

Blue Jeans & Running Shoes

 

I love my blue jeans. Blue jeans and a t-shirt are my favorites. Alas, you don’t see me in that attire much. It just doesn’t fit with my lifestyle. Or at least not as much as I would hope it would.

At work, my uniform is khakis and a polo. Every day. (Can you say “boring?”) When I finished physical therapy school, the uniform was etched in stone. White jacket. Dark pants. Shirt with tie. To wear anything else was blasphemy.

Along the way, I abandoned the dress shoes for running shoes. Makes sense, if you think about it. Exercise and an active lifestyle are ingrained in physical therapy. Then I shed the tie and white jacket. To me, a more casual look is more compatible with the work we do of encouraging fitness and healthy choices.

When I visit Nashville for legislative purposes, it’s a suit and bow tie (a Tennessee bow tie, no less). Same for our big national physical therapy meetings. People there don’t recognize me without the bow tie.

So, where am I going with this? Have you checked out sports clothing these days? I guess it started with shoes. I believe that the shoe industry was the first to embrace technology.

There is a local fellow who is a retired UT Professor of Exercise Science, Dr. Ed Howley. At one time, Dr. Howley did research for Nike, at a time when their shoes were taking advantage of the science of running and running shoes.

When I was a teen athlete, there was one athletic shoe—canvas Converse All-Stars. You may not know it, but you’ve seen them around. Kids today have discovered those shoes and wear them all the time. They were as basic as you get and we referred to them as “tennis shoes” or “sneakers.”

About the time I was in high school, Adidas came out with running shoe that by today’s standards was pretty crude. Ronnie McNabb and I bought the first pair of those at the old Athletic House on Gay Street in Knoxville.

Along came Reebok’s aerobics shoes and some shoes made specifically for tennis, then the shoe industry seemed to explode. I remember when Michael Jordan’s basketball shoes came out. Everyone wanted them.

Now, there is a shoe for every sport and every subset of sports. For runners, you’ve got shoes for sprinting, hurdling, jumping, distance running, and everything in between. You’ve got different shoes for discus throwing, depending on which technique you use. Tennis shoes are made to be specific to the surface you’re playing on.

Somewhere along the way, hiking boots were these incredibly stiff shoes, built for rigorous trails. Those sometimes took years to break in. Now we have hiking boots based on running shoe technology that can take you most anywhere you want to go and be comfortable the minute you put them on.

When I first started rock climbing, we climbed in whatever was handy. Now there are shoes for whatever type of climbing you are doing. There seem to be shoes for everything. I can remember when, where, and who was wearing the first set of shoes made specifically for heavy weight lifting.

So how are we to know what shoe to wear? Do we need a different shoe for everything that we do?

No, not really. Most of us aren’t going to run a four minute mile so a good, basic running shoe is all we need. Maybe you need a shoe that works better for your foot or running style, but a good shoe store can help you with that. You can use that shoe every day, for every day activities.

You don’t need boots that allow you to climb Mt. Everest. I’ve seen plenty of people climb Mt. LeConte in running shoes which proves only that you just need a good pair of all-purpose hiking boots to hike almost everything around here. And I wear those to work from time to time.

My shoes supposedly made for tennis aren’t that much different than the running shoes I wear to work. You just need to look at what is comfortable and suited to your abilities.  And no prejudice intended, but if your shoe salesperson doesn’t look like they could do the activity you are buying for, maybe go someplace else.

 

Don't be a Jerk

 

Not too long ago, there was a Letter to the Editor of the local newspaper complaining about a bicycle rider on the Greenbelt that frightened a walker (she fell).  Apparently, this rider didn’t stop to check on them either.

Let me say first that I wasn’t there, and I know there are often two sides to every story.  With that being said, the behavior described by the writer was totally unacceptable.

Once, years ago, I wrote that I didn’t think bicycles belonged on the Greenbelt. I was advocating for bike lanes. It was pointed out to me rather quickly that the original grant for the Greenbelt was engineered by the bike riders as a way to bike-commute around our cities. In other words, we have the bicyclists to thank for our Greenbelt.

I’ve had many arguments about bicycles on roads but the fact remains that it is legal in Tennessee to be on most roads. That doesn’t mean that it smart to ride most roads, just that it’s legal. There are certain roads that just aren’t safe for bicycles. Anywhere in town. Montvale Road, Morganton Road, Old Niles Ferry, and others—until you get way out in the county.

There aren’t really many roads with a shoulder adequate for bicycle riders, and even when you find them, they might narrow down quickly to no shoulder at all. And all the glass and debris on the shoulder guarantees a flat.

I don’t know a single road cyclist that has not been threatened or harassed by someone in a motorized vehicle. Lots of folks simply hate everyone on a bicycle, despite the fact that we are spouses and parents and somebody’s child.

So we have a dilemma—the walkers don’t want us on the Greenbelt and the cars don’t want us on the road.

It used to be that you could ride out in the country. South Blount County and Rocky Branch have always been favorites of mine. But now, there is so much development that traffic even in some of our most remote areas is intolerable.

And with increased traffic, you get more harassment. Too many people see a bicycle on the road and embrace their worst behaviors. A group I was with one time got harassed by a man in a truck bearing the markings of a local business. The problem was that we were riding according to the law (no more than two abreast, riding toward the right side of the lane) and this guy had plenty of room to pass.

For whatever reason, he felt compelled to dog-cuss us for being on his (expletive deleted) road. I wanted to tell him that it is likely that I pay far more in taxes to use these roads than he does. I did and I still do.

I’ve always ridden with a group of riders, knowing that there was some safety in numbers. But because of the traffic and trucks and some other issues, I’m not riding much on the roads.

It’s sad, really. I have great memories of riding with a cadre of friends on remote and scenic roads. Road biking in a group is a special event. You are really working together as a team to help each other, draft off of each other, and ride safely.

Oh, I’m still on the bike. A lot. But it’s mostly mountain biking now, which is really a return to my roots. I was a mountain biker before I had my first real mountain bike. Heck, go back far enough and you would find me riding the streets of downtown Memphis while my wife took our only car to work.

But back to that guy that (allegedly, but probably) ran the lady off the Greenbelt. I still insist that the Greenbelt is not the place for serious bikers. We’re just going too fast. But for casual riders, it is a great place to ride and I will fight for their right to do so.

You will even find me on it from time to time. My 10 year old grandson loves to ride it on Sunday afternoon. And if you haven’t been on the segment from Alcoa Elementary School to Clayton, then you have missed out. It is spectacular.

But use common sense and courtesy on the Greenbelt. It is no place to race or even go fast. As you approach walkers, well before you get to them gently call out “on your left,” and slow down as you pass.

And if you do happen to frighten someone, please stop, apologize, and help them. People tend to put all bikers into the same pot so that person might hate me because you were a jerk.

My Little Tree

 

I’ve mentioned the little tree behind the building where I park for work a few times. It was emblematic of all the changing seasons. Budded out in the spring. Green in the summer. Colorful in the fall. Barren in the winter. I’ve used it as a metaphor for life.

 

The bigger Maple trees in the parking lot in front of the building are already magnificent in their red attire. And they’ve not yet reached their peak. I had a quick trip to the mountains last weekend, and I can tell you that the foliage is already showing off its fall colors.

 

Folks around here make a big deal out of the fall display. It’s one of the great things about living around here. I know that the leaf peepers make the Cades Cove Loop Road a bit of a nightmare and you will never find me there this time of the year, but there are sights to see wherever you go.

 

There is one stretch of road on my way home that was always as pretty as I would imagine the northeast must be (according to all the folks that visit there), but the necessity of keeping electric wires cleared has sort of put a damper on that corridor.

 

That’s OK.  Progress, I guess. I know that I don’t want to be without power for very long. A hot shower and fewer worries about losing a freezer full of food are part of the reason I’m a huge fan of the linemen that work at Fort Loudon Utilities.

 

Those people are truly heroes. It just so happens that our worst weather days happen to be when they are needed the most. Bad lightning storm? They’re out there. Roads and wires are iced over? On the job, while we call in forty-eleven times that our power is out.

 

Despite the growth around here, when you fly over, most of what you see is green. That’s because it is. Despite a population approaching 150,000, we are still largely rural, not even counting the third of the county that lies in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park (known as “The Park”).

 

I love it. I’ve spoken quite a bit about “Green Therapy,” or the value of getting outside. There is no denying that it is good for our health. Emotionally. Physically. Mentally. It’s why we build parks.

 

Also on my way home is the last remaining of the three oaks on Big Springs Road that marked the Hawkins/Pickens Line of 1797 which was to form a boundary between white settlers and the Cherokee Nation. It marked what was then the southern boundary of the United States. Settlers were supposed to respect this border and leave all lands south of the Line to the Cherokees but we know how that worked out.

 

This line was revised in 1802 and then became known as the Meigs Line, running from Meigs Mountain in Blount County to Meigs Post on Mount Collins and into North Carolina.

 

Those three Oaks were planted in 1797 and are directly on the original Hawkins/Pickens Line. Local outdoors rock star Dwight McCarter wrote a book about the Meigs Line in 2009. The second of those Oak trees fell earlier this year after the first one succumbed several years ago.

 

I miss those trees and now there is just one to remind curious minds of a piece of the local history. To me, it is an important remnant of the Cherokee Nation that thrived in these hills and valleys. It helps me to re-imagine what life would have been like for a native tribe that was here long before Columbus.

 

A group that was sophisticated, with a written language and organized social order, living life in the most perfect place on earth.

 

What’s all this got to do with sports. Not much, I imagine. I guess I just want folks to appreciate what we have around here. And get out amongst it. It’ll be good for you.

I Shall Return

 

"Upon the fields of friendly strife are sown the seeds that upon other fields on other days will bear the fruits of victory," said Gen. Douglas MacArthur.

Every cadet at West Point is required to memorize that quote. It is also required of all cadets to participate in some type of competitive athletics. The Academy believes that sports participation aids in leadership development. I happen to agree.

General MacArthur’s intent may have been preparation for military combat, but his words ring true for how sports can impact life. My friend Ken Bell has often said that sports are “life lessons.” That’s very true.

The opportunities for learning life lessons are everywhere in sports.  Look at teamwork. In sports, a team depends on effective teamwork for success. One of the beautiful aspects of sport is watching teamwork in action.

Think of a football play, where all eleven team members are moving in concert, moving parts executing with precision to achieve a common goal. Although it can look like chaos, movement on the soccer pitch is orchestrated to achieve the same objective.

Watch a volleyball match, where every movement is purposeful and coordinated.  I happen to think it is a thing of beauty. But take away that teamwork and execution and it all falls apart.

It doesn’t take much imagination to extrapolate those lessons to life, relationships, jobs, and just getting through a typical day. Learning to work as a team will carry you far. We are always better together. A five stranded rope is stronger than a single cord.

We learn social skills through sports. You have the opportunity to be a gracious winner and a good loser. You have the opportunity to learn how to be a good teammate.

We all want to win every time out but it is often through losing that we discover more about ourselves. We can learn what our shortcomings are. We can learn who we can depend on when things get tough. We can learn how best to work together.

If we’re paying attention, our failures will teach us what we need to work on. I remember working with a nephew one time on his strength training. A two-sport high school athlete, he only wanted to work on what he was good at. I insisted on working on the things that he hated to do.

He always wanted to do bench press and arm curls. He was good at those. But he needed better core strength and explosive power. He didn’t like those, but we did them anyway. I didn’t care how much he could bench but I did care how effectively he moved his body.

I’ve heard people say “we just need to learn how to be winners.” The context is that you need to learn how to win by winning, which might lead to an attitude of win at all costs. I don’t agree with that at all.

We learn how to be winners by learning HOW to win, not in the winning itself. Does that make sense? We learn how to be winners by understanding our strengths and weaknesses, learning how to work as a team, by being the best version of ourselves.

We learn how to be winners by executing, by being coachable, by being fully prepared, by being good teammates. We learn how to be winners by discovering how hard we can push through pain and hard times.  We learn how to be winners by doing the little things, like eating right, getting enough sleep, and by putting in the work.

Winning isn’t everything—striving to win is everything. Doing what you need to do to succeed is everything, whatever the game you’re playing.