A Perfect Day

My life can be mundane at times. Well, most of the time. However, yesterday was an exceptional day. I ran some errands in the morning, and it was warm and sunny enough (in late October!) to roll the windows down and put on sunglasses. I glanced in the rearview mirror and admired how cool I look in shades, and almost rear ended a car in front of me that had stopped for a light.


Then, I went to the gym and lifted. I enjoy running, cycling and swimming but I really enjoy weightlifting. As I had focused on cycling in the spring for the Pole Pedal Paddle and ran all summer in preparation for the Maui Marathon, it had been months since I was in the gym. I saw a buddy name Seamus and we chatted and he remarked how good I looked with all the weight loss. It was a nice moment of narcississm and to catch up with him.


Then, I took Kadie to a park and threw a ball for her until she was near collapsed. I love watching her run. She kept returning the ball though and when I saw that she would have barely enough energy to even jump into the truck I grabbed her and heaved her up.


Then, with the opportunity of sunshine and dry leaves (a rare occurence in the Portland fall) I worked in the yard. Out came the leaf blower. Of course I had purchased an expensive, powerful leaf blower and relished the experience of moving those leaves closer to their destiny in a black leaf bag waiting to be banished to the mulching plant. Still wearing a sleeveless workout shirt I was showing off my biceps a little bit. The sun was an orb in the sky and my biceps were like two moons in my yard.


Then, Kadie had recovered and wanted me to throw the ball again. Tired now from lifting and carrying the leaf blower I went to throw the ball and unfortunately my massive bicep finally said "enough" and the ball rolled off of my hand and bopped me right on the head. Kadie was amused. I was not. I returned to blowing leaves around and leaned around a corner. The intake for the blower sucked part of my untucked shirt into it and I had a moment of panic thinking it would rip my shirt right off of my body and expose my six pack abs and massive chest to the neighbors. Fortunately for my neighbors I managed to extricate the shirt.


Still enamored with blowing everything not tied down around (you should have seen the cat go! Not really but I thought about it) I had remembered that I had thrown a pair of running shoes into the washer and set them out to dry. Ha! Leaf blower to the rescue. I stuck the nozzle into one of the shoes and let 'er rip. A bit full of myself for being so clever I proceeded to blow one of the shoes into the pile of leaves. I was able to find it.


Then, I thought it was time for a run! I sat down in the sun to rest a little bit. As the rays bathed me in warmth I thought it would be nice to have a beer. I fetched a beer and returned to the sun.


Then, I thought it would be nice to sit in the sun, drink a beer and read. I fetched a book on philosophy and read Socrates, Plato and that other guy. I dozed off and dreamt a little bit that I was a philosopher in Athens pontificating to the rapt audience. Then I woke up.


What a wonderful day it was!

Highway Haiku

Rain is falling hard,

wipers are barely working,

Grip faithful tires - hold fast!

Silver car speeding,

passing cars recklessly now,

slow your @$$ down idiot!

Maui Marathon 2007

I had decided in the winter of 2006 that 2007 would be a marathon year for me. The term can sometimes be used to signify the exertion of energy to obtain various goals in life, but I meant it in the literal sense - once again I would rise up on these massive pillars of energy I call my legs and transport my body over 26.2 miles of road. Although the Portland marathon in my home town is consistently rated as one of the best marathons in the U.S. I thought if I'm going to spend that much time training then I wanted to do a destination marathon. We go to Maui every other year, and 2007 was our year. I found that Maui indeed has a marathon, and we planned accordingly.

Our condo is on the west side of the island, and the marathon start is near the airport in the town of Kahului, then south on the 380 to the Honoapiilani highway where we then run northwest through Lahaina to the finish at the Westin Maui at Whalers Village. You can visit a detailed map of the route here.

The race would be at the end of our stay, so we had plenty of activities to look forward to with the marathon being the capstone. I decided to get in a few runs to acclimate myself to the island but being careful to not burn out so close to the marathon. Sherry and I have a nice route that we enjoy through lower Honoapiiliani highway and then winds up a steep hill to a luxuriousy neighborhood with fantastic multi million homes. I ran great and blasted up the hill like it was nothing. Later in the week I ran a few short runs on the treadmill at the resort. Our resort has a fitness center with four treadmills, two looking out at the pool and the other two facing a wall sized mirror. The two 'good' treadmills were occupied so I took one facing the mirror. It was interesting to watch my gait. As I ran I noticed that my right leg splays outward at a very slight angle, maybe 2-3 degrees. I had a remarkable moment of clarity! When I tire on a long run, I've noticed a peculiar very light scuffing, actually more of a brushing; as I lightly touch my left heel with my right heel. Now I could see that it was because of the slight angle when I run. Mystery solved.

Race day! The buses left the Maui Westin at 3:30 AM to deposit us in Kahului with plenty of time before the 5:30 AM start. I need time to wake up and not be rushed, so I set the alarm for 2:30 AM (the Westin was a 10 minute drive from our condo). I had carefully laid out my running gear the night before, so I enjoyed a leisurely shower and dressed with a half hour to spare to sip coffee and enjoy the pre-dawn warm breeze on the lanai. Sherry rose about 3:00 AM and drove me to the buses, kissed me goodbye and wished me a great run. I boarded the first bus out of the Westin and we headed down the highway on the marathon course. It was not lost on me that in the pre-dawn blackness that many hours later I would arrive back at the same place with my only means of transportation being the legs beneath me.

We arrived at the start line with more than an hour to kill. The time went fast though, wandering around, looking at everybody and stretching for the race. As I watched everyone gear up it dawned on me that I had not brought my goo! I was munching on some sourdough pretzel bites I took on the bus and realized that they must suffice to be my energy source throughout the race. I crammed the back pocket of my running shorts with bites.

Soon it was time to move to the start line. A nervous energy was apparent, everyone was ready to get the show on the road! As we queued up, the announcer asked us to observe the singing of the national anthem. Tears welled up in my eyes as groups all around the crowd (there were about 1,200 runners total) softly sang along with the singer. Then, we received a traditional Hawai'in blessing. I'm not sure what the words were, but it lifted my heart nonetheless. Instead of a starting gun - a blowing of the conch shell set us off!

I don't see well without my glasses, OK I'm probably close to legally blind but Sherry and I did not know what to expect. I was hoping she could meet me on the course and swap my prescription sunglasses for my regular clear glasses that I would need to start in the darkness with. Not wanting to risk it though I decided to leave my glasses at the condo and start with my sunglasses even in the dark. I bought some croakies to let them rest around my neck so I ran the first 5-6 miles in darkness, and with some focus issues! However, there were runners all around me and it did not present a problem.

As we began the run, some people around me were chatting and I met a girl from Beaverton Oregon, which borders my town of Tigard! Cool to meet a neighbor at a race on Maui. I broke a rule of racing three times - I have a tenet of never trying anything new in a race. So here I was - a hat on my head, which I've never done; carrying pretzel bites to eat; which I've never done in a race, and running a race with my iPod. We'll come back to that in a moment.

As we ran down the highway bordered by tall sugar cane fields, an unusual sight began to appear in my blurry vision. Ghosts were coming out of the sugar cane! Multiple apparitions began to move in and out of the cane. Indulge me in an indiscrete moment gentle reader - I realized that it was runners leaving the road to relieve themselves in the privacy of the sugar cane fields. I would NEVER do anything like that...

Anyway, as the light of the dawn broke behind us I saw a shadow of what appeared to be the horns of a bull behind me! Glancing back I saw a guy running with a Viking helmet. OK, whatever. But he had hand written on his shirt "running for peace". In a Viking helmet. Well, we all know that in our history classes we were taught that Vikings were a gentle race, interested only in a peaceful harmony and coexistence with those that they came into contact with.

Soon I saw Ma'alea harbor, and our first glimpse of the ocean. It was inspiring to then see, even without my glasses, Molokini rising up out of the sea. I had created a running playlist and as OMC started singing "How Bizarre" a bizarre thing happened. Two Japanese runners dressed as bowling pins passed me. Bowling pins? I had no idea what the significance was but it was truly bizarre.

The miles went by, and for the rest of the course I would have the ocean in view. It was overcast but not cloudy, just a haze that took the edge of the sun off. About mile 10 I figured it was time for a little sustenance. Hmmm - the sourdough pretzel bites to the rescue! Well, let me brutally honest at the risk of being potentially disgusting. The miles and the sweat had began to break down the bites, so you might say they were kind of mushy and pre-digested if you will. Hey, it's just carbohydrates - a little mushy, I just pretended they were salty oatmeal and gagged them down.

I suppose it was mile 13 when Sweet Child 'o Mine by Guns and Roses came on. I was in my moment - a good solid pace, the ocean next to me, and slowing a bit so I could sing at the top of my weary lungs "she's got a smile that seems to me, reminds me of childhood memories, where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky". Seeing some local surfer dudes and wahines I nodded to them like "hey, we're cool - your're surfin and I'm running, and like we are so cool doing our thing man". I thought they would understand as I started wailing the chorus "ooooOOOOO sweeeEEEEeeet cHilD 'o MiNe". I tried to flash them the Hawai'in 'hang loose' salute but got confused and flipped them off. OK, just kidding.

However, I'm sure that there is a luau going on somewhere right now on Maui, and as the Poi and the pork is flowing that same group are watching some waves ushering in a sunset, and one of them is saying "hey remember that dork on the race" and they will all laugh except for the beautiful girl with the long brown hair and green eyes who secretly thinks I'm the most studly thing she ever saw - I swear I saw it in her eyes as a smile creased her delicate face as I plodded by, but then perhaps it was just gas.

Mile 16 approached and went into mile 17. I stopped at a water station and grabbed cup of water. As I slowed to drink it, my knee started hurting bad. Real bad. I'd never had the kind of pain I was experiencing. The thought even crossed my mind that I may DNF (did not finish). I have never, ever not finished a race. I walked, nay limped; for about a quarter mile before I started to run again. Oddly enough it did not hurt when I ran. But I could tell my pace was in ruins. That's OK though, my goal was just to finish.

At mile 19 I was struggling. I thought I would disassociate from the pain and selected a philosophy lecture I had on the iPod. I started to listen and contemplate the relationship between the material brain and our soul, mind and matter. Does the mind matter? Never mind. What's the matter? Oh yes I pondered the breadth and depth of our metaphysical, existential lives. And had slowed down to about a mile per hour pace! OK Dave, time to start associating with the race again.

I cranked up the playlists to some running favorites - "dum, dum dum dum, dum dum dum, dum - dum. It's the eye of the tiger it's the thrill of the fight, rising up to the challenge of our rival". Like Rocky Balboa I pummeled the air with my fists and summoned the courage and energy from deep inside and passed a 70 old runner. Who then passed me back. I kicked him in the shin and kept going.

Finally - mile 20! Six miles to go. Six miles is nothing. Six miles is not even a warm up. In my training I was consistently running 8 mile plus runs without even breaking a sweat, negating any need to apply deodorant to my underarms. But six miles after 20 was a little daunting. At mile 22 there were some Japanese kids with a big basket of treats. One of them handed me something, I don't know what it was; in a cellophane wrapper. It kind of looked like a round Hostess Twinkie. I tried to talk to them but the langauge barrier was insurmountable. I still don't know what it was I ate that day, but it was good and I was grateful.

Mile 23 was painful. It was just flat hard. My knee was still hurting bad, and everything in me was screaming to stop. But with only 3 miles to go I perservered. The 70 year old guy had caught up with me, and I had to kick his oxygen bottle away from him to get him behind me again. Running through the Front Street mile, past Snorkel Bob's and the Jesus Coming Soon church (yes, right about now would be fine with me Lord) I had two miles to go. Then I saw something that brought tears to my eyes. A purple unicorn was offering me a latte! Oh, sorry that was another hallucination talking.

There was a sign on the road that said "BELIEVE IN YOURSELF". It was a very emotional moment. Seriously, I had to brush away a few tears. It wasn't a commercial made-Nike logo'd Alberto Salazar type of bling - it was just a piece of cardboard that someone had scrawled on with a felt tip pen. I was so moved, I'll never forget that as long as I live - two miles to go now - I believe in myself! I could do anything for two miles. I could do cartwheels for two miles. I could hopscotch two miles. I could crawl for two miles, grinding the asphalt into my knees and leaving a trail of blood, sweat and tears as my legacy as I hobble across the finish lines on the stumps of my legs. But of course that was not necessary.

Oh dear reader, lest you think I'm bloviating, do let me assure you that those two miles were painful. But, I dug deep down inside again and actually ran those last two miles hard. I earned those miles. I had just run TWENTY FOUR MILES and two measly more were not going to stop me. As I looked across the water to the Maui Westin it seemed 30 miles away, but it grew gradually closer and closer until finally I had one mile to go. Perhaps it was coincidence, but the timing couldn't be better - the familiar strains of one of rock's most famous songs caressed my tired ears. To some, the Maui Marathon may have been run on the "Highway to Hell", but I finished to "Stairway to Heaven"! Isn't that awesome. And then, there was Sherry. Screaming her lungs out for me, ahh it lifted my heart! Seeing the finish line at last! "And as I wind on down the road, my shadow taller than my soul...yes I'm buying the stairway, to..heaven". I DID IT! I FINISHED THE MAUI MARATHON! I had just enough energy to blow air kisses to the crowd.

And I'll probably never do it again!

Hood to Coast 2007 - The Race

A long race such as Hood to Coast is a series of many small events. Here's a few from this year!

The first major exchange (where we hand off one van to another) took place at the Sandy Fred Meyer. With no exaggeration there were hundreds of runners and the parking lot was clogged with people. Not that they were wearing clogs, running shoes were the fashion statement. Sing with me now to the tune of "My Favorite Things" (bonus points if you sound like Julie Andrews) and you will start to get a sense for event:

Addidas and Brooks and racing flats too,

Velcro and arch support and running socks for you,

running shoes laced up with twine and with string,

These are a few of my favorite things,

Shorts made for running with liners so sweet,

Fashion statements matching the shoes on your feet,

Tops made for women and shirts made for guys,

Beautiful and handsome just made for your eyes,

Mizuno, New Balance, Asics, Saucony also,

Competitive shoes that you don't sing with falsetto,

So many Nikes it looks like a zoo,

Never five feet away from a swoosh it is true,

When the blisters start,

When the thirst kicks in,

When the sun is in my eyes,

I simply reach into my gear bag for relief,

And smear Bodyglide......on my thighs!

Well, didn't that set a lovely tone. Anyway it was amazing. Parked next to us was a team from europe with runners from Germany, Switzerland and Denmark. No kidding. We engaged them in conversation just to hear the broken english and the lilt of their native languages.

Soon our Van 1 runner came in and handed off to Jesse, our first runner in Van 2. As we egressed the exchange and began our first set of legs, there were a few demonstrators holding signs demanding troop withdrawals from Iraq. Now I'm all for that, but it was just kind of a twilight zone moment - thousands of runners and 2 demonstrators. But hey, whatever!

Jesse sucked up the miles like Jimmy Buffet on Long Island Teas. Kelly then ran like a duck on a June bug. Steve ran hard and fast like Oprah on a ham. Lauren blew away her competition like leaves before the unassailable force of a gas powered leafblower. Lauren handed off to yours truly for my first leg. I advised the newbies not to blow themselves out on their first leg, but enjoy the experience, run just hard enough but save energy for later in the race when you will need it. Of course I ignored my own advice. I left the exchange like the Road Runner fleeing from Wile E. Coyote. Bam! I passed 2 runners. And then it happened - the thing we all dread. Not blisters mind you, a red light - with a race official! He kindly informed me that if I crossed on a red my team would be disqualified. I watched in frustration as the 2 runners I passed caught up with me. When the light turned green we all bolted and I had to pass them yet again! But I felt great and ran strong.

I kicked it up at the exchange and ran in to handoff to Alisha. As I walked around a bit to regain my breath, one of my favorite things on Hood to Coast happened. Put this into perspective - there are one thousand teams with 12 runners - yes, do the math and that means there are twelve thousand runners on the course! I love seeing someone I know out there. At my first exchange I saw a guy named Jerry that was on our team in 1995 or 1996, I don't remember for sure. It was his first Hood to Coast and at that time he had just taken up running and it was awesome catching up with him and seeing that he was still running.


Alisha ran us in to Portland, and we met with Van 1 for the exchange. They took off and we drove to Hillsboro to Corillian, where half the team works. I don't remember the exact time but it was around 10:00 PM. We have a "Campus Center" that includes a small gym and locker rooms. We all prepared to take showers but...realized that my badge gave me access to the men's locker room, but not the women's! Sure, that makes sense but it left Lauren and Alisha in a small predicament. Gallantly, the gentlemen invited them to shower first while we stood guard. Everything was going fine until a guy from our neighboring business wandered in and headed for the men's locker room door! We screamed "hey don't go in in there!" Puzzled, he turned to look at us and I explained that there were women in there. Now, he really looked puzzled! I can only imagine (or maybe not) what was going through his head.


We quickly showered and jumped in the van to head down to the Old Spaghetti Factory (in Hillsboro not in Portland). I didn't want to gorge myself so I ordered a half portion of lasagna. Mmm good! Off to highway 30 and St Helens where we met Van 1 again for the major exchange. We started about 12:30 AM as I recall. At the exhange I was trying on Kelly's headlamp. I was in the middle of probably 60-70 runners, and I looked down so as not to blind anyone and flipped the light on. It was a surreal moment as in the dark, dozens of reflective piping on running tights and shoes lit up like the fourth of July. Very cool!


Soon it was time for me to begin my second leg. I'm guessing at this point it was around 3:00 - 3:30 AM. The exchange was very dark, with harsh divisions between the black night and the glare of the generator powered floodlights. I heard the race official down the road yell out our team number, and knew that Lauren would imminently come into the exchange and hand off to me. Sure enough, she came flying into the exchange and I stepped into the exchange zone to accept the wristband. She slowed down and I detected a funny look in the glare. She bolted past me to exchange with another runner! I realized then that 'she' was the wrong 'she'. I sheepishly (haha get it? she? she-eplishly?) turned toward the crowd and in a self deprecating confession mentioned that it is not unusual for girls to run toward me then at the last minute turn away! Everyone got a good laugh as Lauren did run in and handoff to me.


Another easy one where I could run strong and hard, but save enough gas for my third leg. Speaking of gas....as I ran in the pitch black, sweeping my flashlight along the road; I saw ahead of me another runner. I realized that at my pace I would pass her soon. Suddenly, being familiar with my bodily functions I knew that soon I would also engage, how can I say this delicately; in a wee bit of flatulence. Everyone says I'm a stinker but I don't think they mean it in a wooden, literal sense. But maybe so! Well, not to embarrass myself I timed the 'release' with the passing of a van at the same time I passed her. My strategy worked where the noise of the van effectively masked an audio expression, if you will; of the workings of my intestinal system. But, I also knew that an odiferous occurrence would likely hit our olfactory senses. In plain words, yes - I was a stinker. Thinking quickly, as I passed (get it - passed her, 'passed' gas? Hahaha again) I remarked "wow, that's a catalytic converter that's seen better days!". She agreed. My reputation intact, I trundled on through the night.

At the next major exchange we handed off to Van 2 as they began their 3rd and final set of legs. We managed to grab a few hours of much needed sleep. Steve G (driver extraordinaire, on my left in the pic) had the forsight to bring some camp chairs and a canopy. I pulled a blanked over me and in the chilly pre-dawn comfort quickly began to snooze. I awoke though to the sound of a train! I didn't think we were near any tracks. Puzzled, I looked back to see Steve in his sleeping bag on the ground behind me. He was snoring like a gas powered leaf blower in the Portland fall!

Soon we all awoke and readied ourselves for the last set of legs! This is the one where the excitement of the finish line keeps us motivated. We began to run in the same order as the previous two set of legs, with Jesse again leading us out into the early afternoon. Here's a pic of Steve A handing off to his wife Lauren. Aren't they just the cutest?!?

Soon Lauren handed off to me for my 3rd and final leg! It was a hard one, especially at mile 6 or so where I began to wear down. 3 runners passed me, but I was so excited when at last I saw the exchange and knowing that my race was almost done I summoned the last bit of energy and ran past them into the finish! Alisha then completed her final and last leg of the race. At the finish line on the beach at Seaside, the teams all gather and when the runner comes in we all run across the finish line together. It was an emotional moment for Alisha, and for the team as well! Well done, "They ran fine in January" (our team name). Here's to 2008!

Hood to Coast 2007 - The Van 2 Team

One of the most important things about Hood to Coast is the team. Although I trained hard for the race this year and was probably in the best running shape I've been in for five years, I know that I'm not looking for a competitive team. I've witnessed some nasty altercations out on the course with runners literally screaming at each other because they were a few minutes off of their projected times. That's not for me.

Not having the opportunity to spend a lot of time with the Van 1 runners, I have to limit my relational ruminations to Van 2!

I recruit runners for our van who are fun to be with. Actually, over the years I now recruit people who are fun to be with and if they can run too - bonus! When you are stuck in a van for 24-28 hours with 5 other sweaty tired runners, trust me - character counts.

This year, we had a crack team lined up for Van 2 - meet the team!

Starting from the left we have Kelly. He's a very funny guy and great to be around. I met Kelly at work, and he left over 2 years ago and is still missed. He's also a black belt in Karate. Trust me, I laugh at all of his jokes!

Next up is Alisha, a family friend of Sherry and I, and this was her first Hood to Coast. She's training for a marathon in San Francisco that is right around the corner, and one day at a camping trip we went for a long run and I thought she would be a great addition to the team. Bless her heart, I told her that newbies have a tradition of baking cookies for the team. She knew I was kidding, but made cookies anyway! Mmmm they were awesome, oatmeal with butterscotch chips.

But I digress. Continuing to move on, we have Squawk. He's our mascot, and although it may seem juvenile he has important contributions to make. At a major exchange there are hundreds of runners milling around look for their team mates. Hoisting Squawk into the air allows us to come together quickly. This year we even fitted him with lights on his little wings and he became a beacon in the night.

The handsome guy kneeling is me. Don't let the easy smile fool you. The crouch is reminiscent of a wild beast, ready to launch upon its prey and vanquish its foes. Similarly, the muscles in my legs are like coiled springs, pent up energy to unleash upon my competition. Whatever.

Kneeling next to me is my neighbor Jesse. Jesse is the kind of neighbor everyone should have. He's a great guy, kind and considerate. For years now I've been trying to talk Jesse into doing a race with me! To my surprise and delight, this year he said sure.

We end the introductions with Steve and Lauren. They are great friends and a lot of fun to be around. Lauren's a personal trainer, and she and Steve are both marathoners.

Not pictured is Steve G. Steve G is our driver. I'll freely admit that after many Hood to Coasts, Steve is a world class driver. He watches out for the team, makes sure everyone is OK and threads his way through some difficult and tight spaces. He can get the van into places you would never expect.

Now, let's get racing!

Dream Diary #4

I dreamt that I was in a mash up combination of locales. Somehow I was in the Portland area, but then connected to Hawaii also. I don't know which island. I had ridden my bike out to Sherwood (a town about 15 miles from my home in Tigard) but not taken a water bottle with me, which never happens. I got lost in Sherwood (which did happen one day while on a 17 mile run) and as I was not carrying any water I became extremely thirsty.


In my seat bag I had a tiny bottle of eyedrops. I drank it. Then I was rummaging around behind a store and saw a plastic bottle. It turned out to be one of those blue ice bottle things that you chuck in the freezer and then put in your cooler. It was thawed and I opened it and took a whiff thinking it might satiate my thirst. Hmmm, no - the advent of a slow painful poison death was attached to the viscous threat.

There was a water hose also behind the store, thankfully I was able to assuage the threat of imminent dehydration.

Realizing that I should not pedal home in that fragile state, I decided to take a train. I was then on a commuter train station in Hawaii. I got on the train with my bike by way of the very last car, and decided to walk to the front of the train. The train was something like a mile long, and at last when I made my way into the front car I was exhausted and thirsty again. I reached up to grab a hand rail to support myself, and the conductor threw me a bone chilling nasty look.

I decided it was time to go for a little walk. I left the train, consciously leaving my bike on the train knowing I would come back for it. I walked across the street with the caress of a warm breeze on my face and palm trees swaying back and forth. There was a little park area and a curb where water was running down the street. Suddenly there was an explosion of noise and a guy on a jet ski punched out of the water and onto the street! Engine revving he screeched his way across the asphalt. Some bystanders who were apparently locals exclaimed that they hate it when he does that.

I thought it would be a nice walk back to the end of the train, staying on the same side of the street there was a groomed path through the tropical vegetation. I walked and I walked and I walked and realized I had to again cross the street to access the train.

But there was barbed wire blocking my way! I came across an odd looking gate, some kind of contraption. The opening was too small for me to fit through, so I continued walking. I heard some voices behind me, and turned to see a guy and a girl, tucking themselves through the gate.

I ran back to them and asked for help. "Sorry", the guy explained; "this gate is a mantrap and will crush you if you attempt to get through it".

Then I woke up.