Two kinds of pain

Before the weather took a turn for the milder, I got in a final session of snowboarding at Earl Bales Park. In the 5C weather, the man made snow had the consistency of a Slushee. Joe and I reached speeds that we never wanted and, hence, the inevitable falls were all the more painful.

After one particularly violent skid across the bottom of the hill that bestowed a minor case of whiplash, it occurred to me that I now have an inkling of what MMA fighters go through. Fighters can become exhausted even after little exertion because getting beaten is, apparently, exhausting. Never having been in a physical fight, it took the heavy hand of mother nature on my backside, my shins, my shoulder, and my neck to make me a believer.

Speaking of painful and exhausting, the last episode of "Battlestar Galactica" is slated to air this Friday. As much as I love "Battlestar Galactica", I feel some relief at a foreseeable end to the stress and crying fits I experience every time I watch the show - a testament to the ruthless brilliance of the cast and crew. In the absence of "Battlestar Galactica", when mediocrity and escapism start getting tired, I'll have to get my fix of harrowing reality elsewhere. Those who would suggest the nightly news underestimate the dulling effect that crying wolf about the recession can have.