Frustdata'd

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.

Later.

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.


Later.

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.

Uuummaa.



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...)


Later.

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.)


Later.

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.


Later.

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.


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.

Denim 2.0

Remember Jeans Guy?

Pretty sure I met his Dad tonight.

I was at the gym, just starting my workout, when I see these two guys come in. There's nothing remarkable about either of them, except the one thing that stands out in a gym: One of the guys is wearing jeans.

I tried not to judge right away, but as he took his jacket off the stereotype clicked right into place - tight white t-shirt stretched over a beer gut, the jeans all ratty and shitty, and the only thing I saw him do was arm exercises. If that's not a redneck, I don't know what is. I almost looked out into the parking lot to see if his truck had a camper and Nascar stickers on it.

(He did remember to bring his workout gloves, towel and water bottle, so I'm sure the jeans were intentional.)

I just find it nasty and gross to work out in jeans, but like I said - I try not to judge. Otherwise people are going to talk about all the time I spend in the tanning booth.

Stay real, Jeans Guy - you're a rebel. Don't ever change.
(I imagine with the inbreeding, that won;t happen anyway.)




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.

Inspiration, or Insanity?

I'm going to do it.

I've thought about it, I've debated, I've weighed the pros and cons.

I'm going to run the Royal Victoria Marathon in October.

That's right - Marathon - not Half - the full deal - 26.2 miles.

My goals?

1. Just to finish.
2. Finish in under 4 hours.
3. Finish as close to 3:30:00 as possible.

Why am I posting this now? Because I'm going to have to start training on Monday. I'm following a modified plan from Runner's World for their Fall Marathon Challenge. Do I expect it to kick my ass? Yes - yes, I do. But I'm doing it anyways.

Why do it?

Why not just do the Half, like I planned, and then do the Marathon next year?

I want to challenge myself. A Half Marathon is a great accomplishment, and after this, it'll probably be the race that I end up running the most - I really did enjoy it. But I want to push myself that little bit farther, and I think that this is the type of long term goal that will keep me focused on the training - simply out of fear of failure. And with it being the 30th Anniversary of the Marathon, I was hoping for a perfect-storm of Fate, Karma, and Timing to align and allow me to attain my goals.

We'll see what happens down the road. There's a lot of miles between then and now.


Wish me luck.


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.

Man of Many Marinades.

With the summer season in full swing, I've gone to almost exclusively cooking outdoors every chance I get.

I'm a huge fan of marinades, and use them as much as I can. I like to prepare stuff in advance, so being able to whip together a marinade for whatever's hitting the grill the next night is a bonus. I've also found that having the meat sit in the marinade overnight in the chill-chest helps tenderize and add even more flavor throughout.

Do I follow a recipe? Not really - I treat marinades like I treat sex - some experimentation, throw in whatever you can, mix it up, and always check for flavor. Although I do use some standard ingredients, I can vary some of the complimentary flavors depending if I want heat or sweetness - or just go with ones that accentuate the flavor of whatever we're having.

Just typing that made me hungry - and it's almost time to fire up the grill..Mmmm


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.

Literary Impact

David Eddings has died.

I first came across David's work when I was 13 years old. A friend of mine was reading Pawn of Prophecy and couldn't put it down. After I borrowed the book from him, I voraciously tracked down the rest of the books in the series.

I've read almost everything that David and his wife, Leigh, put out. Something about the way the characters interacted in all of their novels made them a very easy, enjoyable read. Curling up with The Belgariad, The Malloreon, The Elenium, and The Tamuli became something I did once or twice a year. If I could find nothing else new or exciting to read, I could always depend on Eddings.

During the last move, when I culled through all my books, discarding and donating, I never hesitated to keep any of David's books. I put them on the top shelf of my Fantasy section - right beside Tolkien. (And I think J.R.R. would understand.)

Mr. Eddings will be missed.
But his work will live on - I know, because I'm saving my copies for my boys to read.



Later.

Twitterpatied

If you'll look to your right, you'll notice that I've recently started using Twitter, and stuck it in my blog.

Yes, it's a blatant ripoff from another blog I read. (Didn't someone say imitation is the highest form of flattery?)

With the new phone making texting easier, I thought I'd give it a go. There was no point in doing it before - I'd waste so much time on each entry on my ol'school phone that I'd be doing nothing but typing about how sore my thumbs are.

I think Twitter is better suited to my style of humor. I'm all about the quick line and ready quip. If the Sidekick and I could link Twitter accounts, you know there would be some wicked witty banter going on - the Internet would fall before the onslaught of Kevin Smith quotes.

(Sad, really.)

So if you do check back and I haven't posted, look over there - I just might have something Twitty to say.



Later.

The Heat is On.

Holy Shit - it was hot today.

I don't care what the thermometers said, it was broiling. I deal better with the heat now - all the running last summer made me appreciate it a lot more, and this year I've gone from fat and pasty to slim(mer) and light brown.

Today I did something I never would have done years ago to beat the heat - I went to the lake.

Now before you start thinking about Frankie & Annette, I did bring the kids with me, so it was a family type day.

We had a blast. The kids played at the edge of the water, we threw rocks, and Daddy got to enjoy the beautiful scenery that surrounds the lake in the summer. A great time was had by all. I wasn't sure how the kids would handle the heat, but the only time they even kicked up a fuss was when we had to leave.

They want to go back tomorrow - I'm hoping we'll be able to. (First I have to do all the yardwork and shit, and then we can go play.)

Here's to not sitting in the house in front of the fan - summer fucking rocks.



Later.

Change Up.

There are 2 things I like to have with me when I run:

1. Music - Not always critical, but nice to have.
2. Phone - When you are doing 10+ miles on back roads or wherever, it's nice to have in case I have trouble or am needed.

My problem is I don't like to carry both.

Don't even mention a pack or belt - hate running with those, so they are out of the question completely.

Thus I feel my only solution is a phone that combines the two. As much as I would love an iPhone, it's just not possible - both to buy the phone and to pay for the data usage I know I would accumulate. I'm also on Telus Prepaid, so my selection is fairly limited.

I've decided to go with the Samsung Slyde that Telus offers - it's got an mp3 player, camera, and 1400 other features my current phone doesn't have. I also like that I can put whatever size microSD card in there to hold whatever music I want. I looked at the other phone they have and it just didn't grab my attention. Plus, a guy at work has this phone, and I helped him set it up, so I know how to use it. (Okay, I haven't sold you on the phone, but I've sold myself, and that's what counts.)

I'm going to go get it tomorrow - turns out London Drugs is having a sale on them, and I can get it for $40 dollars cheaper than at the Telus Mobility store.

Change is good.

Shiny, tech-y change is better.




Later.

Request.

Dear Homeless Man on the Seawalk:

For the love of God, please put a shirt on. I know it's summer, and the weather's gorgeous, but you have to think of other people at a time like this. For me to come around the corner by the park and be confronted with your fat blubbery man-tits splayed out for everyone to see not only made me gag uncontrollably, but I almost stumbled and fell - which would have prematurely ended my run.

Now I'm just assuming that by your disheveled, ragged appearance that you are homeless - If you are the fine owner of one of the oceanside mansions that dot the area, I would just ask that you step inside and fetch a shirt, or maybe have your butler do it. If that wasn't the case, maybe you could dig something out of that shopping cart full of shit you were leaning against.

As an aside, I just like to say that you must be the most resourceful homeless guy I've ever seen - most people with addictions such as yours are skinny and malnourished - for you to be as . . rotund as you are only hints at your ability to procure food. I wish you could have conjured up a shirt and maybe some deodorant, but I guess they aren't as high on your priority list as beer and whatever you get out of the dumpster.

If you get a chance, dig in the one behind Canadian Tire - maybe they threw out a tarp or something you could use. It just might have the coverage you need.



Later.

37

1. Atomic Number for Rubidium - 37
   
2. "Normal" Human Body Tempurature - 37° C
3. Holes in the mouthpiece of a rotary phone - 37
4. Number of times Elaine slept with Jerry on Seinfeld - 37
5. Number of plays Shakespeare wrote - 37
6. Seconds it took the Hindenburg to burn - 37
7. Height of the "Green Monster" at Fenway Park, in feet - 37
8. Number of Miracles in the Bible - 37
9. Dicks that Dante's girlfriend has sucked, including him - 37
10. First irregular prime number - 37
11. Characters available for use in personalized license plates - 37
12. Vertebrate in the tail of a Tyrannosaurus Rex - 37
13. Miles equal to 59.5 kilometers - 37
14. Numbers on a French Roulette Wheel - 37
15. Skeletal muscles used to move the Human hand - 37
16. Percentage of men that fantasize about their coworkers - 37
17. Points in a perfect bridge hand - 37
18. Cast members in "Les Mis" - 37
19. Weeks "Thriller" was #1 on the Billboard charts - 37
20. Elephants Hannibal had with him on his conquest of Rome - 37
21. Number of times Monica Lewinsky was cleared to enter the White House after she stopped working there - 37 (wink, wink)
22. Seconds from sighting of iceberg to collision with Titanic - 37
23. Yards in first touchdown pass in Super Bowl history - 37
24. Genes in the Mitochondrial Chromosome - 37
25. Percentage of an AMC Pacer that is glass - 37
26. Alphabetically, where the Casanovas are in my Zune artist listings - 37th
27. Twitter's rank on Alexa's Top 500 sites (as of today) - 37
28. Black Eyed Peas ranking on Amazon's Bestsellers in Music - 37
29. Year Nero (Roman emperor, not Star Trek villain) was born, AD - 37
30. Number of unidentified radio signals received from space - 37
31. Number of the Dease Lake Highway in northern B.C. - 37
32. How many times I stared at Google while typing this out - 37
33. Number of angels dancing on the head of a pin, at any given time - 37
34. Pounds of spices in the World's Largest Meatloaf - 37
35. Tracks in a collection of Beethoven's Symphonies -37
36. Number of minutes it takes, at minimum wage, to earn enough to by a Big Mac - 37
37. Years since I was born - 37

Yep - it's my Birthday today.
Punch and Pie, people - Punch and Pie.



Later.

Buck MotherFucking Rogers.

What's one of the greatest birthday gifts a guy from my generation could get?

(Unless you guessed the A-Team Van or the General Lee, you'd have to pick this.)

Buck Motherfucking Rogers.

You see, of the fabled geeky tv shows from my childhood, two of them stand out from the fog of memory. Battlestar Gallactica was one, and Buck Rogers was the other.

After Star Wars came and blew our minds in 1977, there had to be something to fill the void that was left until George Lucas stopped counting money and decided to make a sequel.

Buck Rogers filled the void.

I was at that age where I was old enough to appreciate Buck's stranger-in-a-strange-land quandary, and yet still naive enough to wonder why Colonel Wilma Deering made me feel funny in my pants.

The show had everything: humor, action, a hinted at sexual tension between Wilma and Buck, and a fucking robot that walked around carrying another robot like Flava Flav wears a clock. (The fact is, I think Flava owes Twiggy & Dr. Theopolis a shout out for the inspiration.) Combine that with different hostile alien races and exptic worlds, and it was enough to keep me sitting four inches from the T.V for a hour once a week.

Big props to The Sidekick for picking this gem up for me for my Birthday - even bigger props for giving it to me early as he won't be here on the fabled day.

I can't wait to sit down and watch my childhood appear again before my eyes in all it's chessy glory. What I can wait for is the uncomfortable dream of a three-way with Deering and Twiggy I know is going to happen.



Later.