Plastic surgery

As I write this in my little black notebook, I’m sitting in the “chalet” at Batawa Ski Hill. It’s Sunday and it’s the annual Fat Ass Trail Run day. Yup, go ahead and laugh at all the possible slogans and logos for the run. Anyone who has participated in the Fat Ass has some piece of memorabilia with all of those “fat ass” kinds of sayings on them. “Does my ass look fat in this? Yes, my ass is fat enough.” Well, you get the picture. I drive the family saggin’ wagon. Over the years, I have attended hundreds of runs and races with LOML and have been the protector of the clean, dry clothing, the wallet and the car keys, and the safe-guarder of the snacks and replenishing fluids. I have participated in two of the races and suffice to say, I am not “the one to watch,” I am the one who watches.

What I have noticed, over the years, is the changes in all things sports-related. Shoes are much more expensive; ya hafta pay for the research and technology. Runners don’t wear knee-high tube socks or all-court sneakers or those bizarre shorts, often fitting so tightly it was a wonder there could be a next generation of runners. As for fuelling the sport, let’s just say the sports beverage and sports snack industry probably didn’t exist in the 1970s, but it’s a multi-multi-million dollar business now. What surprises me about the beverage part is the explosion of the “water” market. Everyone (runners or not) can’t seem to get through their day without a bottle of some kind of water in their hand, on their desk or within reach. And, as much as we now know about disposable, plastic drink bottles, they are the vessel of choice. Indeed, less that two feet from where I sit and write is a bank of humming, droning, electricity sucking vending machines waiting to deliver a variety of beverages from soda to vitamin water, all 500 or so in disposable plastic bottles. Don’t get me wrong; back in the early days of LOML’s running, I often wished I didn’t have to pack a cooler full of thermoses and bags of ice. I could have made millions had I just gone a step or two further in my line of thinking. What if vending machines had something other than Coke and Pepsi in them? Mmm and arrgh. I could have been so wealthy as to hire someone to workout for me. Sheesh.

I’m not really sorry I missed an opportunity to invent “vitamin water” or “source” water—well, maybe just a bit sorry. Who wouldn’t want enough money on the card to be able to hire someone else to do their work out, right. However, I am sorry we haven’t moved on from plastics. Why are we still accepting plastics derived from petroleum products when we could be demanding starch-based or nature- based containers? Landfills all around the world are filled with our plastic garbage. Not in any lifetime can we expect petroleum-based plastic products to biodegrade. It just isn’t going to happen. We know this, yet we continue to be fused to the plastic industry. The road to ecologically safe packaging is on a huge upward grade. It is a steep grade created by the petrochemical industry, smoothly paved with petroleum products, and they aren’t afraid to tell us all about how “recyclable” their products are. Indeed, petroleum- based plastic is recyclable, but products created from recycled plastic are not. Period. It’s all about chemistry. I slept through most of those classes, but I know most of us think we can just melt the old and mould the new. Not so much. Something about “molecular weight” and “enthalpy” and “phase boundaries.” I think I just “phase separated.”

We could be the community who gets it all together and says “No” to petroleumbased plastic products, in a big way. We could demand starch-based products. We could think long and hard about purchasing products that are made of plastic and are for short-term use only. We could refuse to purchase products that have been “overpackaged” or leave the packaging with the retailer (I’ve actually done this—left the 700 cubic metres of styrofoam packaging behind—much to the surprise and chagrin of the retailer). Use a travel mug. And, most definitely, we could get serious about the Thermos or the reusable drink bottles and save the $2.75 we would drop in the slot of the vending machine for a bottle of “vitamin water.”

So, as I sat here writing this, I got thirsty and (d’oh) left my water bottle in the car. I could pick up all of the bags I’m watching and walk out to the parking lot. I stare at the machines. I’ve got the cash, but decide to suck it up and head over to the kitchen area (where volunteers are prepping a Fat Ass lunch) and I ask for a glass of water. You guessed it. A styrofoam “glass” of water, it was.

theresa@wellingtontimes.ca