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!


You can find more of my wierd thoughts at http://magree.blogspot.com