Defeetist Attitude.

I'm at a loss for what to put on my feet.

You see, for years I only had two pairs of shoes: The ones I wore to work, and some sneakers I wore with everything else. No sandals or flip-flops for me - I wouldn't wear shorts unless I had to, so my summertime footwear was the same as my wintertime stuff.

But it's all changed now.

Since I started the whole gym/running thing, I've really become accustomed to wearing shorts. I'll wear shorts all day long now - if you'd let me. (With legs like mine, why not show them off?) I'm even hoping I can get away with shorts on a casual day at work - so you can see how the insanity has spread.

But when wearing "dressier" shorts, instead of gym ones, I realize that my choice of footwear really is - for lack of a better word - shitty. Scuffed sneakers just don't jive with the kakhi shorts.

So I'm looking to upgrade, and there's 3 ways I think I can go:

• The Boat Shoe: Looks good, comfortable, and classy. I actually used to wear this with jeans and a popped-collar polo shirt circa '87... which kinda scares me now.
• Flip Flops: I'd like to try flip flops, I really would - but my only problems are 1) I hate having something shoved in between my toes, and 2) can you run after a 3yr old in flip flops?
• Mocs: I like the look of these, and I've heard they are comfortable. But would they look good in shorts? And if I'm not wearing socks, would everything just get funky?

I'm at a crossroads in my decision making process. I'm not in a hurry - I've looked like a shlub for so long I don't think a couple of weeks more will make a difference - but I do want something I can break in and use before summer's over.

Please don't say Crocs - they are the most retarded thing to hit peoples feet in years. I don't care how comfortable they may be - I think they're stupid.


Help me, Internet - you're my only hope.




Later.

I Feel:

1. That nothing beats running outside. The gym is nice; but the sun in the sky, the wind in your face, and women honking as they drive by just can't be beat.
2. That with the gym and the tanning, I'm never gonna get tired of hearing "Hey, you look skinny and dark now."
3. That with 28 days until my 37th birthday, it's ironic that I'm in better shape than when I was 26.
4. That as shameful as it is to admit, watching Boomer Phillips on Video on Trial can sometimes be the comedic highlight of my day.
5. That the Sidekick being so far away kinda sucks - not having a go-to coffee buddy really blows. (And I'm not just saying that 'cause he sent me an uber-gay text message.)
6. That with the pathetic performance by my Avalanche this year, the Sidekick's going to get He's Just Not That Into You and The Princess Bride as his DVD rewards. (Hey - the bet was two DVDs, not which two DVDs. Hahahaha.)
7. That being insanely jealous of everyone I see who has a new cellphone isn't really bad - it just means that I'll have to deliberately break my piece of shit phone (opps!) to get a new one.
   
8. That playing in the park with the kids, as fun as it is, can be both the most uplifting and yet most aggravating experience of a lifetime.
   
9. That as soon as I cross 1000 miles, I'm getting this shirt. Seeing as I'm only 330 miles away, I should have it by August for sure.
10. That once again, I leave you hanging with number 10.....

Later.

The Most Disgusting Thing in The World.

I don't mind dealing with the general public at work - but there's one thing they do that disgusts me more than anything else, and it involves tissue.

(Don't even think it - I'm not going in the direction you're thinking.)

For some reason, as I'm walking about doing my job, I always seem to find some tissue that someone has inadvertently dropped on the floor. (At least I hope it's by accident - if they're doing it on purpose it'll piss me off.)

I'm always loathe to pick it up.

I know it's probably nothing - just fell out of some old ladies pocket - but I still cringe when I pick it up.

How do I know what's in there? Could be snot, mucus, blood - could be the tears of a sainted angel for all I know - but the act of reaching out and picking it up off the floor is enough to gag me.

It's just awful.

I think I'll start to carry one of those metal hot-dog sticks around - that way I can just stab the tissue, and not even have to have it come near me. I think that would work.

Or I could just ignore it and keep on walking - that's what everyone else does.



Later.

Watch Out, Gary Carter...

There's a new kid in town.

That's The Boy and I at his T-Ball game. He's really liking it so far, and his favorite position is catcher. (Why a catcher in a t-ball game? Someone has to put the ball on the tee, and this is better than him laying down in right field and not paying attention.)

He's has 4 hits, one run, and one outfield catch. He's all over this game as oppossed to Soccer, where he ran around for 45 minutes and didn't feel like he accomplished anything. (It might have something to do with the T-Ball championship I won at his age - must be in the blood.)

The thing I like the most is that the games are Monday and Wednesday evenings - so I , a guy who works most weekends, can actually go. It's even been suggested that I help coach, (I dare say I'd be better than the sham of a coach that they have now.) but we'll take it one step at a time.

I know that most of you probably looked at the title and went "Gary Carter? Wasn't he Arnold on Different Strokes?". And you'd be wrong, 'cause that's Gary Coleman - Gary Carter was the only cool batcatcher to play for a Canadian team when I was growing up.

At least until my boy hits the Majors.....




Later.

Bubblicious.

Tip #1: Never look at yourself in the mirror while running on the treadmill. (Side profile)
Tip #2: If you do look, don't look at your ass.


Cold and Dreary - that means the treadmill. As I zoned out and lost my mind to the rhythm of the music and the pounding of my legs, I happened to glance around the gym, as I am wont to do.

Big mistake.

I was on a different treadmill than my usual one, and as my regular unit isn't in the line of sight of any of the mirrors, I never pay any attention to them. But My Baby's being used by someone else, so I'm on a treadmill next to the mirrored wall. I happen to glance downward - looking at my feet, for some reason. (I forget why.)

The first thing I notice is that - damn! - My legs are nice! Then I happen to glance up...

What the Fuck is That?

You see, I was always told I had no ass. As a fat guy with no ass, I just assumed that there was a straight line from my shoulders to my ankles. But I guess all the running changed more than just my frontal appearance.

...I should have realized it, too - running is mainly the work of your quads, glutes and hamstrings - quads lift the leg up and forward, but the propulsion power comes from the back of your legs and your ass.

I knew this. And appreciated it too - I've seen women runners in spandex, remember? I just never thought it would affect me.

I have a Bubble Ass.

I guess it's not a bad thing, as it's not a jiggly Bubble Ass, but still, since I've seen it I'm a little self conscious of people looking back there.

I think I'm going to need to get some new, baggier shorts - just so I don't feel funny while I'm running. It makes me think that all those comments about "looking good" I get when I'm running on the Seawalk weren't about my running posture and form...

Oh God - I feel so dirty...




Later.

Guilty Conscience

When it's cold, I don't like to run in the rain.

It seems that whenever I run when it's either really cold or raining and cold, it's inevitable that I get a cold or congested chest afterwards.

Because of this, when ever it's too chilly or chilly & wet, I hit the treadmill to get my mileage in. There's no shame in it, and at least I'm staying active and healthy.

So why do I feel so guilty if I see someone else running in the rain?

Take today: it's raining and cold - which means I'm heading to the gym to hit the 'mill and bust out 6 or 7 miles. As I'm driving there, I notice at least 3 sets of people running along the side of the road- jackets zipped up and hats pulled low. I'm cozy in my car, headed to my nice dry gym, to do the exact same thing they are doing.

So why do I feel like less of a runner?

Does not wanting to brave the elements make the distance that I run less?
Does not running against the wind and rain mean that I'm not really running?
Does it make me a pussy?

I know that in the grand scheme of things, it's not a big deal - both of us are better than the guy who never gets off the couch - but for some reason it bothers me. Like they're snickering at me as they run.."Look at the pansy in his truck, going to run on the spot in a room!"


I'm not a pansy - I'm a runner.
I just get a little stuffed up is all...




Later.

Herd Mentality.

Please take the time to watch the following Video and then ask yourself one question:




Don't you think it's ironic that at a party that's "Celebrating Originality", everyone is wearing the same brand of clothes?

Did the guys at the marketing meeting not somehow see this?

And would I have been ostracized if I showed up wearing my Reebok's?
(They are pretty sweet shoes, yo.)


Later.

It's That Time Again...

Time for me to bitch about being fucked over by Tim Horton's.

It's getting pathetic. The last couple of times they did the "Roll Up the Rim" promotion, I just bitched about only winning the occasional coffee or donut. I think they must have heard my complaining, because this time around, I haven't won a fucking thing.

No Coffee.
No Donut.
Nothing.

How fucking discouraging is that?

I know I'm not their best customer anymore, but c'mon, don't they even want to try and lure me back? It's not like I won't eat a donut - especially if it's free.

It makes me want to never go there again, and just drink Skinny Chai Tea Lattes all day. (Except for the fact that they're $4 a pop and sound kinda gay.)

Fuckin' Tim Horton's.
Buncha meanies, that's what they are.




Later.

Holiday, Shmaliday.

After enjoying Turkey with all the trimmings post-late shift last night, I was looking forward to hitting the gym this morning. (Yes, I'm the sad type of person who looks forward to punishing their body physically.) Something about eating that much that late at night makes me crave the workout - like if I give the fat molecules any extra time to stay in my body, they'll never leave.

I had even planned on having a tan - with lotion!

I got up at my usual time, (5am) and headed off to the gym. It's never a shock to be the only car in the parking lot - when you go as early as I do, sometimes you're the only car there. But after 5 minutes, when none of the other regular's cars were showing up in the parking lot, I decided to go and see what was going on...

Closed.

Not reduced hours, not opening later - closed for the whole day.
(For Easter Monday? Really? We close a business for a Zombie Holiday?)


Fuck.

I'm awake already, so I don't want to go back to sleep. It's too cold at this time of the morning to run outside, so I'm at a loss as to what to do.

So I go home, make some coffee, and read until the sun comes up.

As much as I enjoyed the quiet time, I really wanted to get a workout in. I'll go for a run later, but nothing beats that 5:30am sweat - makes every calorie I consume later on feel guilt-free.

Goddamn Catholics and their fucking holidays - (right, Sidekick?) ruining my routine...




Later.

Step Up.

There's been a bit of a shuffle at work.

Our Head/General Manager has quit, and that means that things are going to change fairly quickly. I don't think it's a bad thing, as it only looks good for me.
More money, better environment, and an opportunity for advancement.

You see, I'm in the favored group for the "regime change" as we've come to call it at work. I'm still doing the same job, but my opinions count a lot more with the new leadership. In fact, after it was announced that my old Boss was leaving, I had three phone calls (happened on my day off) telling me that I shouldn't worry and I'll be looked after.

After the corporate mess and double talk (except from the Sidekick) at the last job, it's a good thing to hear.

I'm already enjoying the change - I've been working the last two days and already I can see how the pressure's going to be and where I'm going to fit in. More responsibility, sure, but also more perks and more input into the operation of the "Big Picture" - and isn't that what we all want to be - part of the Big Picture?

There may be some growing pains, as we're moving people around from other locations and forming a mix of people that haven't ever worked together before, but it shouldn't be that bad - I'm optimistic about the whole thing.


(Please don't quote this post if I'm bitching about work in three weeks time.)


Change is good.
Let's keep it that way.




Later.

Enlightening Experience.

I am a bronzed God.

Not really; I'm still the pasty-white guy you all know and love - but I am a wee bit darker today.

I had my first fake-n-bake experience today.

I won a punch-pass for tanning as part of my Biggest Loser prize package. Since my normal skin tone is translucent, I figured I'd give the booth a try. I did tan a bit last year, due to all the running I did outside, and since I expect my mileage to go up this summer, I think a base coat is a must-have. So with some trepidation this morning, I stepped up and hit the bed.

It's an odd feeling for someone who's never seen the inside of a booth - it was like standing in a vertical coffin, naked, and then suddenly the eyes of God are upon you. For the first minute I kept my eyes closed, for fear of having my retinas singed. (Did I mention that I didn't get a very through walkthrough on this machine?) But eventually I did open them, and found that it's like playing with a blacklight when you were a teenager - the only difference being that my grey chest hairs didn't stand out quite so much as a teenager. (God, I'm old.)

I did find it oddly refreshing, which makes sense if you figure I compressed a half-day's sun into less than 10 minutes. All that melatonin coursing through your system has to make you feel a bit giddy.

I do have nine more times inside this thing, so hopefully at the end of it I come out looking ready for outdoor fun, and not like some orangeish-leathery-freak.


See you in the booth - next time: Lotions!!




Later.

Mourning My Mornings.

Usually my mornings go like this:

• 5am - Wake up, get dressed, go to gym.
• 6:45am - Leave gym, head home. Have coffee, check email, and relax before anyone's awake at -
• 7:15am Get kids up, get them ready, take Boy to school by 8:15, go to work.

But due to the fact that it's Spring Break for the Boy right now and we don't even have them 'cause they are staying at their Uncle's for three days and I'm working late shift three days in a row, my morning looks like this:

• 7am - Wake up, get dressed for the gym, wait for Wife to get ready for work.
• 8:15am - Drop Wife off at work, go to gym.
• 9:30am - Leave gym, go home and have coffee, eat etc.

My routine's all fucked up.

I don't mind the sleeping in, but the main thing I miss is the morning group at the gym and my quiet time by myself in the early morning.

Going to the gym with the later crowd is different - in the morning group, we're all fairly dedicated people, who realize that we are there that early for a reason: to work out and get on with our day. The people who go to the gym at 8:30 , for the most part, don't have jobs to go to - they are retired or just to old to work.

So a lot of talking happens with that crowd.

I'm not anti-social - far from it - but I don't go to the gym to socialize, so leave me the fuck alone and quit chattering to me. I swear to God I could have slapped three people today for nattering away at me.

I also miss the quietness of the house at 6:45am - nobody's up, the place is my own, and the day has yet to begin. It just isn't the same at 9:30 in the morning.


It'll all go back to normal soon - the kids are coming back tomorrow night - and once I'm done with the late shifts, my routine can settle once again.

And I'll never let it go.




Later.

1:08:54

See that up there?

That's my finish time for the Merville 15K.

I think I did great. I had fun, it was easier than I thought, and I left it all on the road - I ran the best I could and exceeded my expectations.

I ran almost 30 secs/mile faster over this race than I did at my last one, two weeks ago. My average mile was 7:24, which works out to a 4:36 Km. If I keep going at this rate, I'll be in the money in no time.

I placed tenth in my age group, which is an accomplishment, and came in 97th out of 348. Not bad numbers for a former Fat Bastard. (Now just a Bastard.)

The strangest thing was that during the race, at the 9K mark, me and another guy were having a conversation. If you would have told me a year ago that I would be talking to someone as I ran a distance race and still place well, I would have told you that you were nuts. (Who has time to talk when you can't even breathe?) But there I was, talking running (albeit in a slightly labored tone) as we crossed the kilometer marker. We even had a chuckle about that.

As much as I like running, I'm starting to get addicted to these races. It's so invigorating to have the competition, camaraderie, and to just be out.

I've found my new drug.


God help us all.




Later.

Excuses.

Reasons why I haven't blogged lately:

1. I'm lazy.
2. I have absolutely nothing interesting to say, unless you want to hear about Running or Dairy Products.
3. I watched Quantum of Solace last night, and after seeing James Bond kill everybody who even remotely wronged him, my rant didn't seem that important.
4. I was busy carb-loading for my 15K race tomorrow.
5. For some reason, clean clothes and dishes won out over blogging, so I did laundry and housework instead.
6. My kids won't leave me alone. They demand constant attention, and since I'm the greatest Dad in the world, I oblige.
7. When I do have a half-hour to myself, I "relieve stress" - otherwise the world would be an unhappy place.
8. I do have a job, you know - and it's not blogging. (Although it should be, I think I'd like that.)
9. The sun was shining.
10. After staring at the monitor for 15 minutes, I drew a complete blank.

I know they aren't good excuses, but there they are.

I will get back to something regular, I promise; after this race and once everything else (drama) settles down, I'll be back on track and regular updates of pointless observations and my bitching will continue.




Later.

Fool of April.

April Fools is the only Holiday on the Calender that you really outgrow.

No matter what your age, you still acknowledge Christmas, St Patrick's and even Valentine's Day. But April Fool's? That's the one you leave behind.

There's something about pranking other people that just doesn't translate well to the age I'm at now. I think as I matured, I grew to understand that Saran Wrapping a toilet bowl may seem hilariously funny, but it's also a huge, disgusting mess. Yes, Son, that shit is funny - just not when it's on my floor.

Sure, there's always one guy who's still out greasing doorknobs and trying to fool those around him. But to me, it seems like they're just tolerated now, not revered like they were when I was 9.

There were no pranks pulled in my life today.


And I don't really feel bad about that.


Shit, I'm getting old.




Later.