Imagine all the athletes...

Two blog posts in one week? Craziness! I must have hit my head during the quake... 

IMAGINE. Okay people... I'm going to share some thoughts on the fascinating world of sports. But first, please put on your imagination hats:

Imagine that after Tom Brady got sacked for the first time in the Patriots versus Broncos game, Peyton Manning came trotting out onto the field and said, "Hey Tom, that must have been rough but I've got a few tips for you..." and proceeded to share thoughts on how Brady could avoid what became three more smack downs.

Imagine that when New England's Jamie Collins had his back injury start acting up, Denver's Von Miller ran out onto the field and said, "No worries, guys! I got this! I'll play for you for a bit!" And he did... truly trying his best.

Imagine that when Patriot's Coach Bill Belichick got caught in his sweatshirt trying to wrestle it off to look professional for a moment, rival Coach Gary Kubiak slid over to the New England side of the field and took over, legitimately trying to help them win. Calling innovative plays, even sharing Denver secrets, Kubiak guided the Pats to shine, until Belichick got his cotton un-bunched.

What is this, you ask? John Lennon's vision for football?

Maybe. But this is also the spirit of the Native Youth Olympic (NYO) games. NYO is practiced after school and on weekends, like any other seasonal sport, by students all over Alaska. They don't have to be Native Alaskan either - they just have to want to participate, be in 1st-12th grade, and be academically eligible with strong grades and attendance. Athletes build skills in a variety of events that test strength, endurance, balance, and agility. And (I think this is super cool) all events stem from actual survival tasks in Native culture. So for example, the Scissor Broad Jump models jumping from ice flow to ice flow, while the Indian Stick Pull mimics the feel of gripping a slippery salmon, and the One-Foot High Kick was traditionally used to signal a successful hunt from a far distance.

And please don't imagine some silly little school gym obstacle course with hoola hoops and bouncy balls - the moves these kids can do will blow your mind. We were enamored watching for hours...

One-Foot High Kick - like dunking a basketball but touching the top of the backboard with your toe at the same time (http://citci.org)

Two-Foot High Kick - like doing a sit-up... but while you're flying  (http://citci.org)

Wrist Carry - one student, the caribou, supports his full weight on a single wrist over a pole, while the hunters carry him as fast and far as they can (here in Kenai)

And several times a year, teams of NYO athletes gather together to compete... against themselves. Yes, the culture of these sporting events is that it's all about doing your personal best. Here's the idea: If each athlete is supported and pushed and encouraged to be their best, that will make the community stronger... which is absolutely key for any community to survive in the long run. Think about it: In the game of life, the the team is you, your family and your neighbors, when push comes to shove. In Alaska, push can often come to shove. Make sense?

So when each student or small group of students comes forward to attempt their event, everyone roots for them. Everyone. And everyone from peer athletes to coaches from different teams to the event judges themselves offer advice on how to improve. The girl that just set a state record sits to the side watching the next athlete and guiding her to potentially beat it. The team of two that needs a third for the Wrist Carry, a physically exhausting event,  gets individual volunteers from teams that haven't run it yet.  And when only one student is left at the Alaskan High Kick having just nicked the suspended ball at a staggering 8 feet up, the event isn't over - the judges keep raising the ball higher, inch by inch, so that student can really achieve his personal best. And the crowd goes wild.

What's SHAKING?

A grocery store, post quake. More at http://www.adn.com/article/20160124/strong-earthquake-felt-throughout-southcentral-alaska

What's SHAKING? I'll tell you what: We were! J and I lived in the Bay Area for years with the San Andreas at our doorstep but we hadn't really lived through a significant quake until 2AM last night.

Bed starts shaking and then seriously jouncing up and down.
Indigo (having serendipitously climbed into our bed around midnight): "Mama? Daddy? What's happening?"
Kim and J (sitting up together): "We're having an earthquake."
ZigZag leaps off the bed, jets into the hallway, retreats, and dives back under the bed.
Indigo (The Practical Soul): "Should we climb under the bed too? Should we go outside? Aren't we supposed to do something to be safe?"
Bed starts sloshing back and forth, house is creaking, sounds of things falling.
Kim (The Academic, in her head): Those other ones were P waves, but these are S waves...This is super cool! Hmm... They're getting stronger... They're not stopping... Shit.
J (The Field Scientist, counting the duration out loud): "28, 29, 30..."
Indigo: "Mama! What do we do?!?"
Kim: "Stay here, in bed, where nothing can fall on us, and hold each other tight, until it stops. We're okay, sweetie."
J: "56, 57, 58..."

Sirens blaring in the streets (homes a mile away had parts of them explode with gas leaks), but the rocking has finally stopped, so Team Leslie steps out of the bedroom to scope out the scene.

Observation #1: The windows are open. They have slid open sideways and freezing cold air is pouring in.
Observation #2: Everything that can tip over, has tipped over. Books, art, bottles, lamps, shelving. Miraculously, only one glass thing, a Coleman lantern in the garage, has broken.
Observation #3: The fridge has migrated almost a foot out into the kitchen. Upon further inspection, so has the washer and dryer.
Observation #4: If we open a cabinet, everything in the cabinet falls out on us. (We stop opening cabinets.)
Observation #5: The fish bowl's water has sloshed out all over the counter. Oh God, where's the fish? The fish, Berry, is still in his bowl. Phew.

And that's it. Our electricity works, our gas and water lines are intact, and after checking a few geo websites and getting the 7.1 stat, we cuddle back in to bed. Amazingly, no one in the community is seriously injured and although most grocery stores have a lot of clean-up to do, the damage is minimal. So in an ideal sort of way, this quake serves as a great reminder of what it means to live along the Ring of Fire, without having actually been burned. On the agenda for this week:

1. Get a honking big wrench to be able to turn off the gas easily if we need to. We prefer not to explode.
2. Put our headlamps in a consistent and easily accessible spot (not in our jacket pocket in a bin in the garage).
3. Reconsider having glass jars of sea glass on shelves... or anything glass, anywhere.
4. Remember that we have a fish. And that the rule of thumb is to check on living things first... 
5. Remember that we have a fish. 

STAY TUNED. So believe it or not, I actually had a blog post in the works this weekend re: the incredible Native Youth Olympics events we've been going to see... feats of athleticism and sportsmanship that are in stark contrast to the NFL shenanigans that get a bit more attention.  I'll carve out some time this week to share. If you're a die-hard American football fan, I apologize in advance.