I Feel:

That my ability to hold back from punching ignorant, rude, and stinky people is the hallmark of my career in customer service.

That the main reason I don't is because these hands are made for lovin', not fightin'.

That in order to balance out workouts, housework, work, the things I want to read and write, and have an actual sleep schedule, I'm going to need the day to be extended by about 6 hours.

That with starting my Half-Marathon training, I've become reacquainted with my old Nemesis, chafing. Someone start praying for my thighs.

That the weather phenomenon known as a "Pineapple Express" is shittier than the movie of the same name, and lazier than James Franco's eye. Enough with the rain already - can't it just be Spring all the time?

That watching The Lord of The Rings: The Return of The King on television instead of DVD is an exercise in couch sitting of world-record proportions.  I almost made it too, but I couldn't sit and watch the homo-eroticism of Hobbits jumping on a bed at the end. Halfway through that movie, I just wanted Sam and Frodo to get a room already. I'm not one to judge, but I don't want to watch.

 That with the fact that I'm either fiercely hot or freezing cold, I'm starting to wonder if there is such a thing as Male Menopause, or maybe God's just fucking with me.

That if we're being Honest, the only reason anyone would go to the Winter Classic is for the spectacle of it all - because really, those seats would be shitty for watching hockey.

That my deisre to go home and workout is going to have to compete with my desire to go home and sleep. Pillow versus weights: let's see who wins.

That unless I try really hard, I can never make it to 10 on these....

Later.

Write Off.

Possibly more energetic than I was today.

Today is a write off.

Sure, I got up at 7am with the Wife when she went to work, and I even did a workout with some of the stuff I got for Christmas. Coffee was involved too.

After that, the day went downhill.

You know those people who spend January 1st taking down all the Christmas Decorations, reorganizing the house, and getting everything straightened away to start the New Year?

Yeah - not me, not today.

The Boys and I played some games that they got for Christmas (I have the steady hand for Operation), but it was pretty much just a do-what-ya-like kinda day. Books were read, hockey was played, and I was even tempted to take a nap while they were watching a movie. (I may or may not have dozed off for a couple of minutes - it's all kinda fuzzy.)

It's not like we were up terribly late for New Years - pretty sure we hit the sack by 1am at the latest - but I'm just bagged today. Seeing people doing inspired work like this makes me feel incredibly lazy, and I have sworn that tomorrow is going to be Accomplishment Day - believe me, shit will get done.

 I'm off to watch a movie now, and then possibly hit the sack.

All this doing nothing has me feeling sleepy.






Later.

Fuck You, 5am.

Is that too bitter?

Don’t get me wrong - I’m enjoying my new routine - the legs are a little bit sore from the different weight program, but everything seems great so far - with one exception:

5am sucks.

I used to do it no prob - 5am, jump out of bed, head to the gym or out for a run. But when I started letting things slide this summer, the first thing to change was how much I hit the snooze button. Not good.

I read somewhere that the best way to establish a habit is to do it (or not do it, as the case may be) for 21 days. After 3 weeks, your body adjusts to the change and you just accept it. So my goal is to make sure that I’m getting up for that morning workout or run on a regular basis.

Yesterday the combination of getting up at 5, the new weight workout, and heading back from holidays to bust my ass at work had me in bed by 10:15! (Really - how sad is that?) Today is the same, except now it’s a night shift, which meant that the whole night drrrrraaaggged. (Sure, I could have slowed down and left myself with work to keep me busy, but that’s not how I roll.) And do you know how hard it is to stay awake when there’s nothing to do? I felt like taking a nap on the Bakery Table - and don’t say coffee, the stuff at work is a crime against man.

But I overcame that, and soon it’ll be Marathons while shoulder-pressing 120lbs on 4 hours sleep.

Ha! If that’s the case I must be dreaming - I’m off to bed.

5am comes early, ya know.


Later.

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.


Later.

Dirty Songs Make Me Laugh

I've always wanted to rhyme "hootchie" with "cootchie".

Really, what else does a song need?

This song speaks to the 17-year old boy that lives deep within my soul.




Later.

I Feel:

1. That I just don't sit in front of the monitor that much anymore.
   
2. That being told I look like Edward Norton isn't such a bad thing. (At least they didn't say fat Edward Norton.)
3. That being told someone from your company is going to run with the Olympic Torch, but it isn't going to be you, sucks.
4. That having a Full House and losing out to a higher Full House on the river sucks almost as much as not running with the torch.
5. That after a massive Crossfit workout yesterday, riding the Quad with the Boys last night, and running 7.5 miles this morning, my legs feel pretty good. I can't get up from the chair, but they do feel good.
6. That my son talking to me about Ben10 all the time is just payback for me talking to my Dad about The A-Team when I was 6. ("And then B.A. drank the milk and Murdoch got him on the plane.")
7. That some days I just want coffee pumped into my system intravenously, so I don't have to wait for the caffeine to kick in.
8. That some days it only takes 15 seconds for my kids to go from normal to batshit-crazy.
9. That they must get that from their Mom. (ha - she'll kill me if she reads this.)
10. That it must be disappointing to not see an update for 5 days and then come back to an "I Feel" list...

Later.

Moment of Zen.

Sometimes when I run, I use the time to sort things out in my head: thoughts, things I have to do, why yellow cars piss me off so much - you know, everyday bullshit.

But lately, my mind just goes blank - total nothing. All I hear is the sound of my breathing and my feet hitting the ground. I look at what's around me, but I don't think of anything pass that.

It's almost refreshing, but also disconcerting - I don't want to be a running zombie, shuffling my ass along the road - I liked being able to organize and catalog my thoughts. Made the run seem a bit more productive.

I think I'll make a mental note to try and multitask - focus on running and thinking at the same time. (I can walk and chew gum, so why not, eh?)

My only fear is that maybe I'm just about to reach Enlightenment - do I really want to miss out on that?

Whatever - I'll work it out as I run.



Later.

Curse The Radio.

I curse public radio.

I curse the radio in general, be it at the gym, the car, or at work.

Why?

Because it got this song stuck in my head. The Fucking Jonas Brothers






And that's just unfair.
Catchy, lighthearted pop, but unfair nonetheless.

Now I have to scrub my brain with some hardcore Death Metal. (That's the audio equivalent of an SOS pad, right?)


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.

What To Wear...

Don't mind me - I'm just boring t-shirt guy.

What's that on my shirt? Oh yeah - nothing. All my t-shirts are blue or grey or black and have absolutely nothing interesting about them. (Except that they are tagless, which is nice, 'cause I hate how the tag can sometime irritate the back of my neck....but I digress)

I got the Sidekick a witty t-shirt for Xmas one year - I'm pretty sure it got him laid, but he'll never give me the credit for that one. I've never needed a shirt's help to accomplish the deed, but it would be reassuring to know I have backup.

I think I tried to wear a funny t-shirt once. I'm fuzzy on the details, but I don't recall it getting a lot of laughs. I think the sweater I was wearing overtop had something to do with it.

I 'm sure that I'm over the age of people who can successfully get away with wearing something witty splashed across their chest. I don't know where to go for guidelines on this, but I'm sure not going to listen to the girl down at Jeans Warehouse.

No matter what I have on my chest and back, just remember - I know when you're looking at my ass.




Later.