The Big Race

Thirty solid days of rain in May put a big dent in my Red Hook Brewery 5k training. I felt pretty good going into the race. I was twenty pounds lighter and had hit the free weights and elliptical for five days a week for a few months. Unfortunately all that air conditioned gym time didn't prepare me for the outdoors.

For starters it was like running on the frigging sun. It was arguably the hottest day of the damn summer and there was zero shade. I have pretty Irish skin so I greased up with the SPF3000. Sadly I didn't think to drink any water before the race. I did, however, whiskey myself to sleep the night before and of course drank a big ass coffee that morning. I realized this about ten minutes into the race when my left calve suddenly cramped and gave out.

Now would be a good point to introduce the second joy of outdoor running - Pavement. Normally hell on the knees, doubly so when you are effectively pogo-sticking down the road on one leg.

I was running along at a decent clip when it happened, poof, one leg gone. I thought I was going to eat pavement. I was pitching dangerously forward when I found myself flanked by a high school cheer leading team. Twiggy little things in matching pink outfits. It would have been like bowling if I fell just then. An absolute pink horror show. By sheer force of will I hobbled along at a hop scurry until they all went safely by.

Then I watched a pregnant woman trot past me. Then a few little kids. I could hear a drumming sound behind me and some coughing. I wanted to look back to see how far back the end of the crowd was. Bare minimum out of seventeen hundred something people I didn't want to finish dead last. I turned my head mid-stride and it was like the Old Country Buffet back there. Like church just let out. Grey hair as far as the eye can see. There were younger people too, but that was mostly because they were stuck behind the shambling pack of senior citizens. I was mortified. They were gaining on me.

I cut across to the far side of the street and used the curb to limber up my calve. I did a few stretches. And then I put a little comfort room between me and the greys. I caught up to the pregnant woman too.

The tables lined up with water signified we had reached the first mile and a half. This was the only water stop so I threw down a few cups and took one for the road. I dropped that one when my stomach squeezed in pain. I didn't throw up but it was close.

I finished in 45 minutes. Seven hundred or so people finished behind me. My brother finished in 27 minutes. He's taller. After the race there was free beer for anyone that donated to the charity. I like free beer.

For the next four days I walked like a crab. Thighs totally shot.

I'm running another one in October. I'm a slow learner.

Training for the 5K

Memorial Day weekend I'm running a 5k with my brother. This will be the first race of my life.
Generally I don't believe a body ought to run unless chased but I was sold on the idea that the race
ended at a brewery.

I avoid WebMD. Type in the symptom soft pain in the armpit and the f#cking thing says you have the plague. Not, you may have an ingrown hair. Not, it could be a really big zit. Nope, they suggest you may have The Black Death, like its a common toss off event.

My knee was making snap, crackle, pop noises last week so I looked up the symptoms everywhere except WebMD and it looks like I have runners knee. Essentially my knee wasn't travelling up and down properly and it shaved off some cartilage. Fun stuff.

The internet suggested I could be laid up for weeks and I believed them. My left leg wouldn't bend all the way and my right leg wasn't much better. I popped a few pills and learned the acronym R.I.C.E (Rest, Ice, Compression and Elevation).

I'm back on the elliptical now. Mild resistance, no incline.

Some days you just don't feel like going to the gym. You have no pep for cardio and no strength for weight training. This is my Rise to the Occasion playlist, if you don't have one already I highly suggest you create one.

Eye of the Tiger- Survivor
Living in America- James Brown
The Power of Love- Huey Lewis and the News
Burning Heart- Survivor
Neutron Dance- Pointer Sisters
Glory of Love- Peter Cetera
Good Enough- Cyndi Lauper
The Heat is On- Glenn Frey
Real American- Jim Johnston

Even hung over if I pop this on I am slaying dragons on that elliptical.
In the comments section below feel free to share your playlist.

The gym

I'd like to introduce you to my metabolism.

I can hit the gym hard, seven days a week, for six months. I can sustain myself by chewing one green leaf a day like the bald kid in The Golden Child. And all I have to do is walk past a McDonalds and all the weight comes rushing back. This is because I have a sloth for a metabolism and he thinks it's funny to torment me.

A few months ago at work a team photo was taken. I looked like one of those fat, wrinkly Chinese dogs. I've been in the gym ever since. So far I've lost six pounds and have developed some semblance of my old muscle tone. In my mind that translates to like twenty pounds and Arnold Schwarzenegger so I'm strutting around like  Charlie Sheen's ego right now.

The guy who works the breakfast grill at work calls me big guy, as in "Heya Big Guy, what can I get you?"

And I'm thinking 'Hey, hey, hey man...easy with the Big Guy sh*t. I'm five foot freaking eight, that means you're just calling me fat. I'm down six pounds. Can't you see that?'

I don't say anything. He's the kind of guy that calls all the female customers honey or darling. Besides, as a general rule of thumb, I do not argue with people who cook my food. I used to work in the restaurant industry. Believe me, angering the folks that handle your grub is not wise. 

I have a nemesis at the gym.

He looks a little like Lindsay Lohan's father. By that I mean you can just tell by looking at him that he's a prick. He stomps around. He slaps his membership badge down audibly at each station he works out at.

I don't even take the sweat yellowed T-shirts, hot pants-esque-old school basketball shorts/ flood water socks thing against him. Nope. I just think he lacks gym etiquette and I find that annoying.

He doesn't wipe up after himself and he sweats like a lawn sprinkler on full blast. He erratically moves from machine to machine doing cardio. Slamming the equipment and just overdoing it in general. He swings his whole body so that he can curl and push weights that are way out of his range. One day he's going to snap his back and a dumbbell is going to cruise across the sky. The guy is a menace.

Last week I'm on the elliptical next to him and he starts passing gas. I couldn't believe it. I'm clinging to my machine for dear life, pedaling like mad to keep my heart rate up and this SOB is dropping ruthless farts like it is no big deal. What do you even say to such an animal?

I coughed.

I gave him a dirty look.

"Thanks a lot guy." I said as I dismounted the machine. Dude didn't even break stride.

This weekend I'm auditioning new gyms. Thanks Mr. Lohan.

So what all is this?

Technology hates me. I don't know why. It just does.

All manner of electronic wonders have malfunctioned within the confines of my home. Cell phones, DVD players, TVs, stereos, Playstations, computers. You name it and it has fizzled and died on my floor. I'm like leprosy for high tech items, I touch them and instantly they begin to crumble and fall apart.

No, thanks, I don't want to play with your Iphone. Damn thing'll explode in my hand and I'll be owing you a chunk of money. I'll pass.

I roll lean. 

I have a giant f*ck off cellphone that I've carried for four years. I'm totally satisfied with the old school, long Ipod shuffle my brother got me for Christmas years ago. I own a ghetto blaster. I have CDs. Hell, I even have cassette tapes. Basic technology functions fine around me. It's all I can use.

Hence the drawings on this blog are made on Microsoft Paint, the electronic equivalent of sticks and stones. 

That said I just bought the new Itouch. So far so good. I just spent three hundred bucks to throw cartoon birds at little green pigs. Best investment I've ever made.

By the magic of my new I-thingy I bring you a decoy coyote in the wild. Note the intent stare and realistic bushy tail. Also note the single peg leg. I'm totally slapping an eye patch on this guy.

Apparently the decoys are the animal friendly method to discourage the geese from hanging out behind office buildings and crapping all over everything. There are also decoy crocodiles. I hope they get those where I work too. 

I've been dating this particular Precor for the past few months. Between work, the gym and hating on those little green pigs I haven't posted as much as I should. I've also been holding back because it takes a long damn time to make the pictures on Paint.

In the interest of providing more content I'll be adding freehand drawings and photos from the Itouch to supplement my ramblings. 

Stay tuned...

Hey There. Hi.

So much for updating every week...

It's like trekking all the way through the burning lands of Mordor to find out the great red eye is taking a smoke break....well, ok, maybe not all that...but close. You've been showing up but I haven't been updating.

Lately I have been putting all my creative drive into my first novel The Spark. After catching the Stewie-Brian "how's that book coming along" bit a few times I knew I had to push all projects aside and focus.

Which kind of sucks because I've had a few other wild ideas I've neglected to share in the meantime.

Like, why is all the good Valentines schwag gone by the 1st of February? WTF is up with that? I was literally in CVS on the 1st and the shelves looked barren.

There were Valentines squids, hissing-heart adorned possums and the few teddy bears that remained looked like they limped out of the opening scene of Saving Private Ryan. Some missing limbs, some carrying them.

It isn't as if I waited to the absolute last minute.Valentines Day was two weeks away and already the stores had replaced the teddy bears with Easter Bunnies and the heart shaped chocolates with Peeps. 

The new way of the world; the ongoing, ever bolder encroachment of one holiday onto the next. Its why you hear Jingle Bell Rock on the friggin' radio in early November.

I propose a push back. If you are picturing turkeys chasing elves back into December then you are beginning to see what this would mean. War of the Holiday Icons. COMING SOON!!!

By request: My Bruce Willis moment

I was in PJs and bare feet making an omelet on the stove. The morning coffee had just finished brewing.

I slid the perfectly bronzed fold of egg and cheese to a plate and placed it on the counter to cool for a second while I finished emptying the dishwasher. I opened the cabinet and the door came right off the hinge, crashing down to the counter and shattering/ scattering a bunch of wines glasses.

So now I'm toes to the floorboard with a wide semicircle of shardy, pointy glass pieces on the floor behind me. Trapped. There was also glass dust all over the counter and that put my omelet into question. Whatever came next was guaranteed to be a pain in the ass, all I wanted to do was eat my breakfast first.  So I examined the eggs. Played a little 'Is it salt or is it glass dust?'

 Eventually I ate the omelet.  It was ok.

Leaping across the floor was out, as was climbing on the counter.  I couldn't reach the dish towel or the broom.  I did throw some silverware at both objects and that was useless. Then I spotted some large Tupperware containers, wore them like shoes and shuffled to safety.

On my triumphant step out of the Tupper-shoes I stepped on a small piece of glass and I left a few tiny blood prints on the floor- my Bruce Willis moment.  

Introducing the Snow-o-meter

From left to right here is the Snow-o-meter:

Practically beach weather:

Let's face it, the weather forecasters

almost never get it right.  We all know the jokes.  Sometimes when they call for a blizzard we end up with sunny and clear.   

Bread and milk:

The irrational New England phenomenon of hoarding food and supplies before a snow storm.  I'm talking full parking lots and lines from the checkout lanes down the actual shopping aisles.  Total panic city. In my thirty odd years I've yet to be completely snowbound.  I think its all just a conspiracy between the news stations and the supermarkets. Hello! Domino's Pizza!  Expect two inches tops.

Fun snow:

Oh fun snow, how I once loved thee.  I remember when I was a kid nothing was cooler than playing in the snow.  I'd run out of the house with my mother trying to put a hat on  my head and I would roll, sled, throw and wade through that fluffy white stuff until I was dragged back inside for dinner.  I'm still a polar bear at heart, but even I now dread that five minutes in the morning waiting for the car to warm up watching my breath fog up the windows.  What a difference time makes.

War with the plow folk:

This is when you get six inches or more of snow.  Not only do you have to shovel the stairs and sidewalk but in addition to the mound of snow on your car the plow people have left you an impenetrable four foot wall of snow along the side of your car.  The best part of this is the knowledge that after you clear it away eventually the plow will bring it back.

Freaking buried:

This is when you get a foot or more of snow.  It is rare.  This is calling out of work, heart attack level snow shoveling territory. During storms like this if you wait long enough you might see an abominable snow person stroll by your second floor window.  

 This is what I woke up to today.  I opened the door and there was a foot of snow slanted across the porch.  The plow people hadn't even bothered to swing by.  Those humps of snow out there are cars, they look like igloos with no doors.  Total snowpocalypse.