Tuesday, July 28, 2009


As you could tell from my Twitter post on Sunday, I did two important things:
  1. Did a 13.1 mile training run in 1 hour and 41 minutes, which shaved two minutes off my previous half marathon time. (Woo!)
  2. Crossed the 1000 mile marker with my Nike + Sportband.

But there's a problem.

You see, normally over to your right there would be a big-ass Nike Certificate and I'd be bragging about shit over here. But on the run previous to my Sunday run, something happened to my Sportband.

It won't upload.

It plugs into it's USB port and charges fine, but that's it. No activation, nothing registers with the computer that anything is even plugged in. The port works fine, as anything else I stick in there works, and the Sportband did the same thing on another computer that I tried it on.

It still works great for everything else (except for the display), but it just won't upload. So now I'm stuck with 28 miles of runs that I can't post, and I'm getting a bit pissed. (So can't wait for my new Sportband 2.0 to arrive.)

Sure, I know I've logged the miles, and I know the time I did, but it's a satisfaction to see that reward up on the screen. Imagine how Pavlov's dogs felt when that fucker rang the bell and they didn't get anything.

(Fuck, Pavlov was a bastard.)

I'll get it fixed eventually, I hope, and am willing to listen to any ideas anyone has - If you wanted to earn my eternal gratitude, now's the time.


Thursday, July 23, 2009

Hangin' Around.

Hey, I just flew into this blog, and boy, are my arms tired.
(Ba-dum Kssh)

Lame jokes aside, my arms are tired - from rock climbing.

I had no wife and no kids today, so like any normal guy I had coffee, read the paper, mowed the lawn, and then decided to try my hand at Indoor Rock Climbing.

I drive by On the Rocks at least once a week, (it's on the way to my parent's place) and having heard about it from other people, it seemed like something I'd like to try. But with always having the Boys, I've never gone in.

It was great.

For $20, I got shoes, a harness, and a quick introduction into the wonders of an auto-belay system. (The great thing is, it's $20 for an all-day pass - I'm going back after dinner tonight.) The auto-belay means you can climb alone, and once you reach the top, you can either climb back down (yeah right) or fling yourself into space, where it lowers you down gently rappel-style.

The gym was busier than I thought, with quite a few people there. Nobody seemed judgmental or rude, and everyone was enjoying themselves. The biggest shock to me was seeing a 8 year old boy scamper up the wall, racing his sister saying he's a "Spider Monkey". Once he hit the top, he just lowered himself down, unhooked and raced off to another area.

It may not be something that I'll do every week, but it's a nice alternative to have. (I'll tell you how nice tomorrow, depending how sore I am.)

I will say this: hardest upper body workout ever.


Monday, July 13, 2009

Your Chocolate in My Peanut Butter..

Below is a amalgamation of two of the best things in my universe: Kings of Leon and Pulp Fiction.


Sweet Christmas, is that awesome or what?

By the way, in case I haven't mentioned it a thousand times already - in 32 days 'till Kings of Leon in Van!
(Fuck, I feel like a giddy schoolgirl...)


Friday, July 10, 2009

Band -Aid.

My Nike+ Sportband is starting to give up the proverbial ghost.

It works fine, syncs well, and the calibration and everything are all right. The problem is that the display is starting to fade - all the numbers/letters on the left are illegible, and it's only getting worse.

Luckily, Nike knows about this and has the product covered under warranty - I contacted them, and was told that they'll replace it free of charge. I'll even get lucky, as the old, not working Sportband has been discontinued and I'll get one of the new, Version 2 Sportbands.

Because of my training for the RVM in October, I was concerned about sending it in and having to wait for the new one to get here - but Nike said if I went to where I bought it, I'll be able to exchange it there.

After talking to the people at Intersport, (Where I got it) I'm convinced I have the best of both worlds. The new Sportbands aren't out yet, but they have me down to do an exchange as soon as they get in - and until then, I can still use my old one for recording all my miles and such. (Which is great, because I'm only about 76 miles away from my 1000 mile mark - wooo!)

I can't wait.

I think that a big part of the success and continuing motivation I've had with running is because of the Sportband. Being able to see all the information I need right away, along with the tracking on the Nike+ website, make it easy for a Nerd like me to stay interested and challenged.

I hope the new one lasts for at least another 1000 miles. (Or until I go completely running obsessed and get a Garmin 405.)


Wednesday, July 08, 2009

Maintenance is Key.

I have high standards when it comes to my DVDs.

Maybe not in what I watch, (ask the Sidekick, and he'll say my copy of The Princess Bride proves that) but in how I take care of what I have.

So it drives me nuts when I see people treat their DVDs like shit.

I had a guy at work lend me Wild Hogs. (Not my choice, but the Wife liked it.) He brought the disc in for me and when he handed me the case I was appalled.

The outer case was scuffed, the cover slide was ripped, and it still had the price tag on it. It may sound trivial, but I don't need to know that he paid $24.95 for Wild Hogs - if he did, he needs to get a refund. I was almost terrified to open the case and see the disc.- I figured it would look like cats played hacky-sack with it.

I just don't understand how people can treat their stuff like that, especially if they are willing to lend it out to other people. Bad enough that you're going to get judged on your viewing choices - but to hand out beat up, badly treated stuff? It just tells me you can't take care of your shit.

And if you don't take care of your stuff, why would the people you lend it to bother to take care of it? They know you don't give a shit, so why should they? When I hand someone an immaculate disc in packaging that looks like I bought it yesterday, that's how I expect to receive it back.

Do I go overboard? Probably. But to present my things, and by extension, myself as uncared and unkempt is just unacceptable to me.

I'm going to end it at that.
I gotta go dust my collection anyways.


Tuesday, July 07, 2009

Of Bears, Beers, and Aching Calves.

Of all the golf courses I've played at, Bear Mountain reigns supreme.

Forget reigning - Bear Mountain takes the other golf courses, kicks their whinny little asses and sends them packing like the bitches they are.

As you can tell, I'm somewhat enamored with the course. As thrilled as I was to get a chance to play in the Thrifty Foods tourney, it was where we were playing that excited me the most, and the course didn't disappoint.

The treatment by the staff was phenomenal - it was like I was a touring Pro, not some shmoe from the sticks. The place just screams class and money, and the only other place I've been to that has the same feel in the air would be Whistler.

The greens, the fairways, the course is immaculate and in tip top condition. Too bad there were a bunch of drunks playing on it, but we had a fun time.

My team was a great group - I knew one guy already, and the other two were really nice. My cart-buddy was the most fantastic bastard of an Englishman I've ever met, and I could have sat and listened to him drink, curse, and laugh all day.

And drink I did. At Campbell River events, you have a choice of Lucky, Kokanee, or Coors Light. Not bad, but not my favorite brews. Yesterday I drank nothing but Sleemans, Alexander Keith's, Stella, and the odd G&T. And that was all from the Beer Cart. They must have known we had an Englishman in the group because the cart never seemed to be more than 3 minutes away.

So after a Lunch that stuffed me, 18 holes that drowned me in Beer, and a Dinner where the steak was cut with a butter knife, what do I regret?

I regret not resting my calves today. Although there was a cart, there's lots of walking in golf, and I was on the side of a mountain... Of my 3 mile run today, it wasn't until mile 2.5 that they started to loosen up and not be stiff as boards. (Putting them through 6 miles of hills tomorrow to show 'em who's boss.)

I'd love to be able to go back to Bear Mountain. And here's to hoping I get my wish.


Thursday, July 02, 2009

All In One Shot..

I bet everyone thought I forgot about this place. Hard to believe I used to bitch at the Sidekick for posting so haphazardly, and then I become almost as bad as him.

I've come to realize that some days there just isn't enough time to juggle everything. Between work, the Kids, family/social obligations and running, by the time I do sit down in front of the monitor, I'm wiped and unable to focus a coherent thought - unless you want to hear about my latest run or maybe the annoyance of Ball Sweat.

I also feel that sometimes I just don't care enough to comment. Do I have thoughts on Michael Jackson's death? Sure I do, and they are probably the same as every other guy my age: Micheal Jackson died years ago, halfway through recording Bad, and was replaced by a pasty white guy I don't know anymore. Why bother commenting on something that everyone is sick of hearing about anyway?

I'd talk about Hockey, but it's no fun making cracks about the Leafs when my Avs are acting like all the high-level decisions are being made by Corky from Life Goes On, and he's using a dartboard with suggestions from Mike Millbury pinned to it.

Ranting about the economy doesn't do any good: I'm still poor. Bitching about the shitty drivers in Campbell River doesn't work - if they can't read road signs or speed limits, they aren't reading this blog. Plus, on the days it's too hot, I just can't get worked up about the little things like the elections in Iran or Obama smacking a fly and pissing off PETA.

I swear to God (like he/she is listening) I'm gonna post more. But think of me more like a posting Ninja: you're not sure when I'll strike, but when I do, you'll know.