Back To The Grind.

Tomorrow is my first day back from holidays.

I'm almost looking forward to it.

You see, I've discovered that I'm a creature of routine - I sleep, go to the gym, work, run, and poop. (I do many exciting things as well, but that's pretty much the basis of my existence.) When you take 8+ hours a day out of that routine - things start to fall apart.

Such as:

• My Diet - I've been eating like shit on these holidays. Sure, I've been going to the gym, but without the regular lifting and moving that my job requires, I'm just not doing enough to justify the calories. (I'd still like to drop about 10 pounds before the 8K in Vic, and that's only 42 days away.)
  
• My Motivation - When there's no time frame for things to be done, I'm in no rush to do them. I run in the mornings because I have to - after work is tied up with the kids and such - but if I can run anytime, the urgency to do it is gone, and I either skip it, or do it half-assed.
• My Sleep - Normally I can't nap in the middle of the day, (God, I miss the couch in Oyster River) so I just keep moving and burning my energy up. I napped at least an hour for each of the last three days, and it kept me up later each night. My sleep cycle is going to be a bitch to get straightened out.
• My Brain - I need the interaction that work gives me. Spending time with my kids is great, but talking to other people is where I get my spark - my humor and wit. The Boys understand that farting is funny, but they don't get sarcasm yet, and I'm not allowed to tell them any blowjob jokes. Even my thought process for the blog has been affected. I've blogged more on holidays when I wasn't even in town.

So breaking this evil cycle will be a good thing. I know going back to work will still be semi- shitty, but just getting back to the routine will be a welcome relief.

But I'm saying that now - tomorrow may be a different story.





Later.

Stagnation

It's not that Holidays have rotted my brain - really, it isn't.

It's just that with nothing to really say, I've effectively have nothing to say.

I could tell you stories of the gym, but you've heard all those. I could tell you that I've been doing dramatic and astounding things, but I haven't.

Why lie about it?


Later.

I Feel...

1. That when it rains for your entire holidays, you should be able to call a "do over".
2. That spending 2 hours in Butterfly World made me a better Dad, and not an emasculated shell of a man. (It just felt that way.)
   
3. That just because I gained three pounds binging over the weekend, it's still alright to take it out on my workout partner in the gym. ("We're gonna bench what?")
4. That the crazy looks I get from people when I run in the rain are just as funny as the crazy looks I get for running when it's 24° outside.
5. That my downfall will be Peanut Butter. Don't ask.
6. That I shall have to watch 14 hours of cinematic masterpieces to erase from my mind the horror that is Hot Rod.
7. That the next time I agree to rent such a horror, I am attacked by midgets and punched in the gonads at least three times.
8. That getting up at 5:45am to go to the gym at 6 on my holidays means I'm committed, not retarded.
9. That Barack Obama should have picked Hillary as Veep - pickin' a white guy just gives the rednecks another reason to shoot at him.
10. That phoning me and asking if I'm going to vote Liberal or Conservative if there is a fall election is like asking me if I want to be kicked in the right or left testicle - I don't want to do it, and no matter what I choose, I'm not going to like it.

Later.

Lee Meriweather Was A Stone Cold Fox.

I just watched Batman: The Movie with The Boys the other night. It's good camp, they love it, and where else are you going to hear the line: " Sometimes you just can't get rid of a bomb."

I must admit, though - I have a new appreciation for Lee Meriweather. That woman was a total package. I think I prefer her as "Miss Kitka" the Russian journalist, but she does fill out the Catwoman suit quite nicely.

I think The Boys and I were appreciating that movie on two different levels, that's for sure.


Later.

Kenyan Or Jamaican?

I'm having trouble deciding on a nationality.

I'd love to be able to cover the grueling marathon distance like the Kenyans do, but can't overlook Jamaica's dominance in the short track events. (Which is better ladies - a quick sprint or a long run?)

The main problem I have is that I'm the whitest Canadian I know - even with running outside, I've only got a pseudo-tan, not even worth bragging about. I'd never fit in.

Maybe I should incorporate time in the tanning booth into my training regimen.

Or, maybe I should just run more.

Yeah, that's it.


Later.




P.S. - I did my 5K outside today, as opposed to the treadmill, and did it in about 26:00 (give or take 5 seconds.) Although not below the 25 min mark like I hoped, it was nice to be close.

Fall To The Dark Side.

I had a chance to play the demo for Star Wars: The Force Unleashed yesterday. (And today, and on my lunch, and after dinner..)

I'm impressed.

It looks great, and although the gameplay is a bit tricky at first, it plays well. I hope the storyline is as compelling as it seems, because I like the fact that they went with a "bad guy" to start. But it is Star Wars, so I know there will be eventual redemption and at least a minor shift toward the light. Until then, I'll gladly Force Choke any whiny bitch that even hints at Toshi Station and power converters.

It's too bad that I have to wait 26 more days to get it, though - I guess even Sith Apprentices have to wait sometimes.



Later.

Greased Lightning

Today I ran 5K (on the Treadmill) in 24:40.

That's my new personal best. (It's also 45 seconds faster than the last time I consciously timed myself on a Treadmill 4 months ago.)

I think I'll time my next run outside and see how long it takes - it would be interesting to see the difference. I know it'll be somewhat slower, but to be around the 25:00 mark is my goal.


Catch me if you can.




Later.

$1.41/Litre will change my mind..

I used to think these guys were losers.





I used to think they were riding toys. (Toys for losers, in fact.)



Now I wonder how the mileage is, and if their insurance is cheap or not.....




Later.

S-A-B-O-T-A-G-E

Every once in a while I get the feeling that my other half doesn't like the improvements in my physical appearance.

Oh, I know she likes it, but I get the feeling she felt a lot better when I was a chubby bastard. (Now that I'm just a bastard, and not chubby as well, it's got her rattled.)

She's been doing things lately that seem like she's actively working towards undermining my efforts. She brought me home a coffee the other evening (awesome) and a couple of donuts as well. She knows they are my weakness, and how horribly bad they are for you, and she got upset with me when I said that although I appreciate it, I didn't want them. As soon as I could see the fight starting, I capitulated and ate one.

It's not just donuts, either - it's extra stuff, under the guise of "for the kids" - my house is full of muffins, chips, cheese knots, breads, etc. She says they are just snack foods for the kids to nibble on, but since when do the kids "nibble on" 2 dozen muffins? Why are there three cheese knots when we only have two kids? (And she doesn't like cheese knots.) I avoid eating the stuff as much as I can, but what do you do when it's the only stuff in the house?

I've learned from before that diet is the most important part of weight loss and maintenance. I've also witnessed countless other people fail at their goals because they were not getting the support of the people in their household when it comes to food do's and don'ts.

I don't want to be one of those people.

I think I'll embark on a mission of counter espionage - soon every chocolate chip in the house will be replaced by a stalk of celery. I'll arrange the fridge so you don't have to reach past the jug of chocolate milk to get to the skim, and alarm bells will ring if a donut even enters my front yard.

I have seven weeks until my 8K run in Victoria and eight until the Miracle Beach 10K - my goal is to be ten pounds lighter by then, and I'm going to do it.

I'll be on the lookout for traps and tricks - but if I wake up and she's intravenously pumping whip cream into my arm, I think I might need some help.





Later.

Herpes It Isn't.

For the first time in over three years, (at least) I got hit with a virus.

And it was a nasty one too.

It's called Xp Antivirus 2008, and I think I got it from a page that was supposed to link to article from the Chicago Sun-Times. My browser went funny after that, and a couple hours later my computer started acting up. It masquerades as part of Windows Security Centre, and claims that your computer is massively infected. (Which it is, but just by itself.)

Thank God I've trained my wife not to just randomly click "Ok" when she sees something like this. She called me at work and asked what she could do. I told her to get out of the chair and leave the room.

With the help of some trusty programs and skillful scrubbing of the registry, it's all gone now. In my research for removal and purging, I also found out that I'm not the only one who has been recently hit - it's cutting a path around the Internet right now - so it makes me feel somewhat relieved that I'm not the only idiot out there.

Careful browsing habits, people - I should practice what I preach.

Remember - double wrap before going in.




Later.

Superman May Be A Dick....

But I never realized The Flash was so gangsta'.




There were three separate times when I almost spit my coffee on my monitor from laughing so hard. That either means it's funny, or I've developed some strange caffeine-related gag reflex.


Later.

Wordle.

This is my blog.

This is my blog in Wordle:


It's pretty cool, I think. It scans your blog or whatever and makes word jumbles out of the content. (The site calls them "Beautiful Word Clouds", but there's no way in hell I'm calling them that.)

Just to see how accurate it is, I put a couple more blogs in it.

Bish's:




& The Sidekick's:

I think it shows an accurate representation of what we write about. I was sure that mine was going to say "My Penis" about 10 million times.

Funny how that worked out.

Check it out, it's a good way to waste 10 minutes - and you've already wasted that time here, so what's another 10 minutes?



Later.

Lack Of Content.

Don't worry; I'm not dead.

I know that I usually post everyday, and that my infrequent updates of late may have left you wondering if I was still among the living or that maybe I cast aside my mortal coil and moved to a higher plane of existence. (Port Alberni)

I'm still here, it's just that I don't have anything to say right now. There's thoughts percolating, but nothing cohesive or interesting enough to write down.

You can do without me for another day or two, right?


Yeah, I thought so.




Later.

IJustWantedToSeeHowLongOfATitleBloggerWouldLetMeTypeBeforeFreakingOut.

150 Characters. (The page margins won't show you the rest, so I cut it off.)

Well, at least I got Fiona Apple beat for Most Useless Fucking Title Ever.

That's something.



Later.

Of Playgrounds & Panty Lines.

(As much as the above title sounds Pedo, it's not - no children were harmed in the following post.)


Even though I felt like shit today, I had promised my kids I'd take them to the park. If there's one thing I've learned since the little tykes came along, it's that when you promise them something, you have to deliver.

So we head to the playground. When we arrive, it's overrun with kids from a daycare next door. My kids are thrilled because there are tons of other children for them to play with, and I'm thrilled because the 3 guardians of these little angels are all wearing my all-time favorite outfit on women aged 21-40, yoga pants.

So I sat at the playground, watching my kids run around and play, and also made some small talk with the ladies. The sun was shining, there was a nice breeze, my coffee was just right, and I was surrounded by God's wonderful creations wrapped in Man's greatest fashion accomplishment.

I knew it had to end sometime.

After a while, the daycare kids had to go back inside, and my kids were wiped from all the running around and playing. As I was getting our stuff together, The Boy asked "Can we come back and play with the daycare kids on your next day off, Daddy?". I looked over my shoulder at the lycra-enveloped wonders exiting the playground and replied:

"Absolutely, son - My days off can't come fast enough."





Later.

Jesus Was A Runner.

And a damn good one, too.

I have to say that right now, more than anything, I'm digging the outside running.

The breeze, the sun, all of it comes together so nicely that I don't even feel my legs moving. I used to think the treadmill was a great way to zone out - now I'm convinced that outside is the way to go. (Did you happen to notice how girl runner's bouncy bits really bounce when they are running? It's an added perk, I'd say.)

Tonight I did just over 6K - I went slowly because I was tackling a monster hill right at the start, and I wanted to save my energy. I finished it in just over forty minutes, which also includes stopping to talk to the Sidekick. (See? When is the last time you ran into anybody on the treadmill? It just doesn't happen.) I had so much energy left at the end I almost chided myself for not going faster.

Bish was right - The me of a year ago would have scoffed at just going out for a run. "Outside? To run? Where? - I'll go if it's a donut shop." I'm impressed with the progress so far.

I figure if Jesus can walk with the cross on his back, I can run. I ain't got shit on mine.(and there's nothing tied to my ass, either.)




Later.

In Absentia

Later

I Love Shitty Movies.

Got home from work tonight and watched Harold & Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay.

That makes 3 "shitty" movies I've watched in the past week: Semi-Pro, The Heartbreak Kid, and H&K2. What can I say? They're funny, you don't have to think about them, and it's a mindless way to veg out for 118 minutes.

Do I like deeper, more substantial movies? Yes, yes I do. But if you are just in the mood for mindless lowbrow humor, why not go with what works? I also like comedy that makes me think - but at the end of a long day, that is precisely what I don't want to do - think.

So pull up the couch and bring on the dick and fart jokes - I need to de-stress.



Later.

Inner Rock Spectre.

Have you ever been driving your car, and all of a sudden can't recall the last few minutes of your trip?

You know you did it - you're still in your car - but you can't recall turning left, right, left, left, right. It's like your brain switched off, but you were still able to drive.

That's how I am when I play Guitar Hero 3.

I'll be crusin' along, rockin' out - and I'll see a complicated note pattern coming up. As long as it takes to think to myself "You're gonna fuck this up bad.", I'm through it and done. I can't recall even thinking about what buttons to push - it just happened.

The only explanation I can come up with is that I'm possessed by some Rock God. They somehow take over my body and allow me to progress along the path they must have taken years before. (But in real life, not a video game.) It's either that or I have to believe that I'm just a lucky spaz who happens to hit the right keys when he's flailing away like an idiot.

You can see why I went with the first guess.

Possession would explain so many things - Why I like groupies so much, my lifelong desire to live on a bus, and my secret yearning for leather pants. (Those must be the signs of a restless spirit.)


So when I start hitting 98-99% on Through Fire & Flames - you have to thank the two of us.


Me and my Inner Rock God.




Later.