The Little Lights Aren't Twinkling

I’ve decided to devote the remaining post titles in December to one of my favorite dysfunctional holiday movies of all time: Christmas Vacation. It’s the third in a 4 part odyssey of the Griswold family. The first one, Vacation, was okay. The second one, European Vacation, was a disappointment. And the final one, Vegas Vacation, was an abomination. But tucked in the middle of this supremely forgettable series was a little gem of a Christmas movie. It’d be like if Harold and Kumar made Harold and Kumar Go To The Hurt Locker right in the middle of their other two crappy films.

Of course, one of the main reasons I like it is because it’s ridiculous. I’m ridiculous. And I’m pretty sure you’re ridiculous too.* Besides, like The Godfather, there are life lessons abound sprinkled through-out the film. You learn how to fix a newel post, how to quickly replace a damaged Christmas tree, and the dangers of a plastic plate – instead of a metal one - in your head.

Mrs. Nitmos and I (and now the kids) quote from it all year ‘round. If I start complaining about some minor detail of something or other – which I often do – either the kids or Mrs. Nitmos are apt to say “the little lights aren’t twinkling”** which is our code for reminding me that everything is okay and stop focusing on the one little hair out of place.

This is a good lesson to apply to running as well. I often come home from my track 800 intervals annoyed because one of the six 800’s fell outside of my goal range. And by “outside” I mean by no more than 1-2 seconds. Never mind that I exceeded my goal on several of the other intervals…and that my overall pace was right on target…and that I looked extremely handsome accomplishing all this. The one damn 800 ruined the whole bunch (except the handsome part).

The little lights aren’t twinkling.

I’ve done the same in marathons. Twenty-five miles went pretty much to expectation but CURSE THAT WALKING BREAK IN MILE 23. ARGGGHHH!!!

The little lights aren’t twinkling.

I’ve seen it around on various blogs as well. It was my first marathon…I came up 5 minutes short of my goal. –or- I set a PR in the 15k but my bloody nipple ruined my favorite white shirt. – or- Angelina Jolie is pretty but she smells of orphan.***

The little lights aren’t twinkling.

This holiday season, let’s all take advice from the modern philosopher’s known as the Griswolds.

Forget about the 2 seconds you missed for your 800 interval. Never mind the rose blossom on your PR soaked shirt. So what if Angelina smells of orphan – they make perfume. And who cares if Cousin Eddie is bat shit crazy in real life? Look at the big picture.

The next time you notice some minor detail is out of place, one little mile of a training run is out of whack compared to an otherwise perfectly paced run, heck, even one whole run stunk amongst a training log of good ones, don’t let your Inner Art get you down.

Art: The little lights aren’t twinkling.
Clark: I know Art. And thanks for noticing.

Happy trails.

* Otherwise why would you continue to return here?
** After an exasperated Clark finally lights the outdoor Christmas lights, Clark’s father-in-law Art points out to him that some of the little lights aren’t twinkling as they should while ignoring the grandeur of the illuminated home.
*** I don’t just read running blogs you know.
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I’m sorry but there simply was not enough of a creative response about what kind of abuse you would like to heap onto a treadmill in the last post. Your punishment? No post about bears and farting. Hey, you called out the bull, take the horns…