Let me begin by stating shamefully, "I saw Rocky XI".
In my defense, let me say that I had been driving six hours that morning, from Angel Fire to Ruidoso, and I just wanted to unwind in front of a movie. The problem is that the aforementioned Ruidoso-cineplex has only four movies, and only one of these was suitable for anyone over twelve-years-old. As I flipped my coin between Charlotte's Web and Rocky, thank God it landed on heads, and so to Rocky Balboa I cheerily went. After all, who doesn't love a good Rocky movie?
Secondly, let me admit equally shamefully, "I enjoyed Rocky XI".
Though I normally go for the mentally stimulating, thought-provoking movies that cause one to consider life and oneself more closely, this was pure Rocky-fun. It was full of those surprising twists and turns that you never expect in a Rocky film. Believe it or not, he was a common man from Philadelphia who was an underdog to the much younger, more experienced title fighter. There is a training montage where, yes, he drinks raw eggs, runs up the steps a-la Rocky I, and he even boxes a raw piece of meat, all to the rhythm of some inspirational pop song. He nearly gets knocked out, but his seeing his family brings him back, and he fights strong to the end. Like I said, very surprising stuff, but it was good. The final scene, by the way; greatness. Rocky is shown with arms upraised, and the American flag is shown clear as day in the background. What Rocky movie would be complete without some patriotic overtones? The Great-White-Hope, right? I cannot say that I noticed the American flag behind the cocky, lazy, thug-life black fighter. Coincidence?
To the reason for this post:
Two days later, after several dry and warm days in the Ruidoso mountains, we awoke one morning to this.
Overnight there had fallen about 7-8 inches of snow where the day before there had been none. I ran into a dilemma. Each morning, that I had stayed there I had run down the hill to the several-mile track that outlined the golf course and ran 6-7 miles in the mountain air. It had been the highlight of my mornings, because the hills and the thin air made it as tough as any workout I ever experienced in thick-aired, flat Texas.
That is when I was reminded of this:
I remembered that Rocky IV, the one with Drago the evil Russian, was complete with yet another training-montage that featured Rocky running in the mountains in several inches of snow. He's a great patriot, so am I. He had a tobaggon-hat, so do I. He was fighting for the sake of democracy and against communism, so....maybe there are some differences. Either way, I was inspired.
So, I put on my snowboarding books, my toboggan, and about several layers of clothes, and I set off down the hill towards the snow covered track. I had never had both so much fun and so hard a workout. Each step buried me mid-shin in the snow, and for a Texas-boy this was really great. I ran three and almost turned around, but with the Rocky scene coming to mind, I pushed on through the complete seven miles and made it back home.
I believe I am now qualified to fight the steroid-ridden, communist-touting Drago.
In my defense, let me say that I had been driving six hours that morning, from Angel Fire to Ruidoso, and I just wanted to unwind in front of a movie. The problem is that the aforementioned Ruidoso-cineplex has only four movies, and only one of these was suitable for anyone over twelve-years-old. As I flipped my coin between Charlotte's Web and Rocky, thank God it landed on heads, and so to Rocky Balboa I cheerily went. After all, who doesn't love a good Rocky movie?
Secondly, let me admit equally shamefully, "I enjoyed Rocky XI".
Though I normally go for the mentally stimulating, thought-provoking movies that cause one to consider life and oneself more closely, this was pure Rocky-fun. It was full of those surprising twists and turns that you never expect in a Rocky film. Believe it or not, he was a common man from Philadelphia who was an underdog to the much younger, more experienced title fighter. There is a training montage where, yes, he drinks raw eggs, runs up the steps a-la Rocky I, and he even boxes a raw piece of meat, all to the rhythm of some inspirational pop song. He nearly gets knocked out, but his seeing his family brings him back, and he fights strong to the end. Like I said, very surprising stuff, but it was good. The final scene, by the way; greatness. Rocky is shown with arms upraised, and the American flag is shown clear as day in the background. What Rocky movie would be complete without some patriotic overtones? The Great-White-Hope, right? I cannot say that I noticed the American flag behind the cocky, lazy, thug-life black fighter. Coincidence?
To the reason for this post:
Two days later, after several dry and warm days in the Ruidoso mountains, we awoke one morning to this.
Overnight there had fallen about 7-8 inches of snow where the day before there had been none. I ran into a dilemma. Each morning, that I had stayed there I had run down the hill to the several-mile track that outlined the golf course and ran 6-7 miles in the mountain air. It had been the highlight of my mornings, because the hills and the thin air made it as tough as any workout I ever experienced in thick-aired, flat Texas.
That is when I was reminded of this:
I remembered that Rocky IV, the one with Drago the evil Russian, was complete with yet another training-montage that featured Rocky running in the mountains in several inches of snow. He's a great patriot, so am I. He had a tobaggon-hat, so do I. He was fighting for the sake of democracy and against communism, so....maybe there are some differences. Either way, I was inspired.
So, I put on my snowboarding books, my toboggan, and about several layers of clothes, and I set off down the hill towards the snow covered track. I had never had both so much fun and so hard a workout. Each step buried me mid-shin in the snow, and for a Texas-boy this was really great. I ran three and almost turned around, but with the Rocky scene coming to mind, I pushed on through the complete seven miles and made it back home.
I believe I am now qualified to fight the steroid-ridden, communist-touting Drago.
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