I Fear No Scale.

Tomorrow is weigh-in day.

Yes, boys and girls - I've signed up for yet another weigh-loss/ fitness contest at my gym.

Call me crazy, stupid, or insane, but I think I can do well in this one too. (Brief History Lesson: Won the first one I ever went in - lost 42 ponds - Won body fat% lost in 2nd contest - 5.2%)

So Why not try again?

It coincides nicely with my plans for this time of year:

• Training for the Vancouver Marathon.
• Running in the Merville 15K & Comox Half again.
• Keeping my svelte figure. Hahaha

It's not that I have a ton of weight to lose - I know I'm probably going to drop 10 pounds just between now and May with the training, but I also want to work more on my legs and core than I did for the last run - which should help me close the gap and get closer to qualifying for Boston. (Every runner's wet dream)

I find that being involved in something like a simple contest keeps me on-track (Nutritionally wise) for the duration of the training. (Point in fact: So dying for a Peanut Butter Sandwich or two right now..but I'm being strong..)

Having my name and progress posted on a public board where people I know can see and check out really helps. If I don't make progress, everyone in the gym will bug the shit out of me.

I might even post some of my stats here, just for the hell of it - hey, at least I'd be blogging something, right?

I'd say wish me luck - but I think I'm going to be okay on this one... at least for the first week.


Later.

T.V. Gold.

As a child of the 80's, I would have watched the fuck out of this if it was a weekly T.V Show.




How sweet is that?


Later.

Stay of Execution.

Considering that since Christmas, the kids have been playing Lego Batman and Lego Indiana Jones non-stop, just the sight if this comic made me laugh my ass off.

This guy's stuff is hilarious - check it out.


Later.

Resolve

Okay 2010, here's what I'm hoping to do this year:

• Blog more - going a month between posts kinda defeats the purpose, don'tcha think?
• Run more - I have 2 Marathons planned this year, May and October - training starts tomorrow, so this one will be easy to keep.
• Save - I don't know for what, but you have to save for something.
• Read Better - rather than re-reading my bookshelf over and over, I'd like to branch out into some newer territories.

Short, sweet, and to the point.

Kinda describes me, right?


Later.

Someone Save My Baby!

Forgive me if I ramble - I'm a little distraught.

My youngest has been stricken down in his prime - and I'm having trouble dealing with it.

I stop at home on the way to the gym at lunch yesterday, and my wife tells me there's something wrong with Sammy. His full name is Samsung Hp-t4264, but I call him Sammy. (For Sammy Davis Jr, another wonderful black entertainer.) Sammy just shut off and instead of turning on, just makes a "click click" sound.

I immediately started revival procedures - I unplugged him and let him cool down. (Sammy usually did run a bit hot - it's his passion for the cinema that burns inside him.) When I got home after work, and all Sammy did was make that soul-crushing noise, I knew I had to seek professional help.

So this morning I bundled Sammy up in the blanket we brought him home in, snuggled him into the car, and drove him to Comox, where the nearest specialist is. I won't lie, a single tear rolled down my cheek when I left Sammy with the "Technician" (or whatever they call their Doctors.)

They'll let me know by Friday how much it'll cost to "fix" Sammy. I said money wasn't an object - the wife disagreed and said that $300 is the limit she's willing to go. (I don't understand - we've only had Tristan for 18 months longer than we've had Sammy - yet I know she'd pay more if something went wrong with him.)

So I'll wait by the phone until I hear from them - hoping and praying that Sammy will be okay. I can't even look at the spot where he used to be - his 21-inch cousin "Citizen" sits there now - but it isn't the same.


Come back to me Sammy - step away from the light.





Later.

Tattoo Goo.

Yeah - that's my leg.

You can tell by the muscular definition in the calf...and the freckles.

So I just got it done today, and it was an excellent experience. My last Tat was done when I was 19-20, so it's been a while since I've been in a shop. But completing my first marathon deserved something, and I think this was it.

My plan now, for future runs, is to put a small mark of some sort - ( a runner or if I want to sell out - a nike swoosh) under my time for each other marathon I run. Considering I'm doing 2 next year, I think the leg will be seeing some work.

Excuse the shitty, bleeding look to the pic.. remember - it's fresh.

Would ya believe I'm already contemplating my next one? Tattoos are almost as addictive as running. (Almost.) Thank God I'm in control of my addictions.. (Those of you who know me can start laughing now.)


Later.

Made me Laugh.

Saw this today and it made me chuckle.

"Use the Loofah..." Hahahah.



So I guess if you're and exhibitionist, Shiny Suds is for you...


Later

Station Identification.

Just so the world doesn't think I've died, I thought I'd update.

A lot has happened since I last wrote anything down here.

Most importantly, I lost my Father-in-Law - he was a great man and I was saddened by his loss and honored to be chosen to give the eulogy at his service. Trust me, I'm a talker, and getting up in front of those 350 people was both humbling and terror-inducing. From all accounts afterward, I did a good job , and everyone said he would have been pleased.

The two weeks preceding, I was single-dadding it - with all that had happened, my wife stayed with her mother, and even though it's on the same town, I didn't see her at all for 14 days. Juggling the kids and my OCD complex with the house was a challenge but I did it.

And if you think I got a lot of runs in, you're dreaming - check my Twitter - I haven't done much at all. Thank God it doesn't show yet, but I'm just glad to get back to the routine so I can get my shoes back on and just get out there. I'm still planning on Vancouver in May, and Vic again in October - with the Comox Half , Merville 15K, and any other run I can scrounge thrown in there. You have no clue how bad I'm aching for a 10 miler.. does that make me crazy?

Coming up, I have the Sidekick in town soon, and we're going to see the Trews at the Tidemark on the 23rd. (Yes, he's explained how coming to the sticks to see a concert is completly wrong, but he's still coming..)

And in 2 weeks and 2 days, I get my Tattoo. Totally looking forward to it.

Well you've been topped up with the meat and potatoes of my life - and yes, there's tons I'm not telling - but that's probably another post at another time.

Trust me, I'll be back.
(You can't keep a good man down - so a guy like me can only be kept down about 75% of the time.)


Later.

10K, A-Okay.

I ran my last race of the year today.

I finished the Miracle Beach 10k with a blazing fast 44:28 - 5 minutes off my time from last year. I still placed fourth in my age group, which just means the other old bastards (M35-39) have gotten faster too.

It was a great race, and I felt fantastic throughout. I probably could have even pushed a bit harder, but with doing Victoria last Sunday, I didn't think it wise to punish my legs further.

As always, the weather turned out great for the run - I always seem to luck out that way. (Knock on wood if you can.) It was sunny, cool, and the perfect weather to kick ass in.

For most of the race, I was running with a couple of guys, not paying attention to my pace, just running what felt right. It wasn't until one of them commented that we were clocking a 4'30" k that I started to check my pace, and even slowed down a bit - got to have gas in the tank to be able to finish. (Running's like sex - if you start out too fast, you just fall apart at the finish - never a good thing.)

Still, I was well ahead of where I wanted to be - at best I hoped for a time somewhere around the 45 minute mark, so to beat that even by just 30 seconds is a great thing. And as always, having them call out your name at the awards is great, even if it is just 4th place.

I say it's my last race of the year just because of the fact that I know of nothing else that's coming up. I'm contemplating the Vancouver Marathon, but that's not until May - and even then, I can incorporate the Comox Half and the Merville 15K into my training plan. ( I haven't really talked to the Wife about Vancouver - she already thinks I'm nuts, and telling her I want to do 2 Marathons and at least 1 Half next year will have her calling the guys in White Coats.)

So for now, it's back to just running for running's sake. I'm going to be hitting the gym for three days a week and running on the off days. I know there's a six-pack hiding under that last layer of fat - I'm determined to find it.

(Plus - and I won't make any promises - I should be able to blog more, now that I'm not going to be running 5 days a week. Believe it when it happens.)


Later.

Tattoo You.

I'm going to get another Tattoo.

As most of you who read this blog have come to understand, I have become slightly obsessed with running. ("No Shit!" You say - "Tell us something new!")

And as some of you may know, I already have a tattoo - the Japanese symbol for "Love" on my chest. As that Tattoo was wrought from pain and anguish (some of you even know that story), so this Tattoo will rise from pain and success.

I've decided to get the Roman Numerals for 26.2 (XXVI) tattooed vertically down my right calf, and at the bottom have my finish time for my marathon.

"But wait!" You say, "The Roman's didn't use decimals, you schmuck!". I know - I'm going to get a smaller "II" symbol tucked in beside the "I" - Trust me - I've drawn it out already, and it'll look cool.

And though it may seem crazy and weird to get a running tattoo on my leg, my reasoning is thus: I did it - I accomplished what few do, and no matter what else happens in my life, I will have that to be proud of. And it doesn't matter how many more I run, or whether my time improves or decreases - this was my first, and I want to remember it. (The only other thing I might ever get would be something involving my kids, but that's about it.)

The only thing that sucks is I have to wait until November 26th to get it done - the only reputable Tattoo Artist in town that I would trust my skin to is booked up until then.

I'm sure I'll describe the procedure and post photos when it happens.. But for now, I can't wait.


Later.

Good Mail.

Most days, your average Inbox is so full of spam and other assorted debris that it's hard to sort out the good news from the ENLARGE YOUR PENIS NOW!!! - type stuff.

My Telus-assigned email address is the one I use for all my junk. Anyone who needs an actual address I can respond to, but I think is going to send me copious amounts of crap - they get that one. I check it once a week, and it's usually to just shift-select all-delete.

The Real Me uses Gmail.

Even with that, I still get some junk - newsletters I subscribed to but don't read, the one guy I know who still sends out FWD:FWD:FWD:FWD stuff, (even though I've asked him not to), and the occasional spam because the Wife signed up for something and put in the wrong address.

But today was a good mail day. I received 4 emails that brightened my afternoon:

• A reminder from the local running store about the 10K I'm in this weekend. (I placed 4th in my age group last year - going to try and better that)
• Same local running store sending out a congratulatory email to all the local runners in the RVM - sure, it's a bulk email, but everyone gets to see my name in lights - as a finisher.
• Message from the Event Photographers that my race-day photos are online. This one's tough because my finish-line photo looks realllly bad.
• And a confirmation email from the Tidemark that my 6th row tickets to see the Trews are in. (Oh yeah, baby - the Trews.)

So believe me when I say- checking my email, while purely habitual and borderline obsessive-compulsive, was very rewarding today.

And I also got this one from a Nigerian Prince who needs my help to transfer millions of dollars - this could be good.


Later.

Completion.

It's done.

26.2 miles, 42.2 kilometers, 16 weeks of training. And it rocked.

The Royal Victoria Marathon made me feel like I can accomplish anything. I'm still on cloud nine - not only did I meet my goals, I blew them out of the water.

As you can tell from the certificate on the right, I finished in 3:28:20 - almost 2 minutes faster than I figured my best possible time could be. I placed 402nd out of the 2611 who finished the marathon, and 63rd in my age group. (considering that 12 of the first 25 finishers were my age or older, that's a good sign.)

But it was a great day and I had an awesome time. Even when my calves and hammies started cramping up at the 40K mark, I kept going. I paused to walk twice, but my determination to run the race wouldn't let me do it for more than 30 seconds. (I'm stubborn that way.)

It's a beautiful run - from the Seawall to the Parliament Buildings, from Oak Bay to running through the golf course, (even ran by the Twin's Comic Book Store!) it was just amazing to be surrounded by people just as crazy and dedicated as I am.

Some of my memories from the run:

• The line up for the bathrooms - listening to some ladies debate the moralities of sneaking into the wheelchair porta-pottie.
• The Elvis Impersonator on a flatbed truck in Oak Bay - The King kept me going..
• The clothing strewn on the side of the road as runners peeled off thier outer layers.
• The fact that only 1 in 200 runners can hit the trash can at any water station. (which is why we run, instead of being in the NBA.)
• The running club offering "Beer Shots" at the 38K mark.
• Eating my first gelpak - was too much like really sweet chocolate pudding.
• Wondering if being struck by a golf ball means you get to subtract time off your finish..
• Seeing 3:2x:xx as I came toward the finish line - fuck the pain - I ran.
  
• Wanting to hug the lady as she put my finisher's medal around my neck.. (I didn't.)
• The greatest chocolate milk/donut combo ever as I walked out of the food area after the race.

Overall, an amazing experience.
I'll post the photos as soon as I can - with selective editing - no one wants to see me grimacing in pain.

Now, about next year...

Counting Down.

It's 10 days to go until the Royal Victoria Marathon.

And I think my taper madness has set in.

I feel good, I'm confident about finishing - but in the back of my mind, there's this slight shred of doubt about my hip flexor. I think that it may be the only thing that will hold me back from achieving my goal.

And I'm just really excited about the run. My nervous energy is a slight to behold - I've become someone who can't seem to sit still. I normally don't sleep well the night before any of my long runs - I'm sure I'll need to be knocked out the night of the 10th.

With my infrequent posting history as of late, I'm not sure if this will be the only post you see before the big day - I'm hoping not, but who's to say?

If it is, wish me luck - I'm going to try and make 26.2 my bitch.


Later.

A Long Day.

Today was my Long Run Day.

Technically, it's supposed to be tomorrow, but really - when you set out to run 22 miles, does it really matter what day of the week it is? Didn't think so.

The thing that weirds me out about my long runs lately is that I start out in the darkness of the morning (6:30), and before I'm even two-thirds done, the sun is up and the day has completely changed. Sometimes it almost feels like I've been running from one day to the next.

To tell the truth, I'm disappointed in my long runs. Last week, I was supposed to do 20 miles, and came up three-quarters of a mile short because my hip flexor was bugging me, and this week I was 1.5 miles short because of a leg cramp. (I know it was a hydration issue, but it just kills me.) The fact is, after 20 miles, I think my body just says "What the fuck are you doing?'

My Body's going to learn that I'm the one in charge.

I don't have anymore long runs until the Marathon on October 11th. The longest I run is 12 miles. (Ha! Two years ago I would have called you crazy to think I'd run 12 miles. Now I don't consider it "Long".) So now's the time to rest between runs, and just try and stay healthy and injury-free.

As for the Marathon, I'm still hopeful of my time - still want under 4hrs, and as close to 3:30 as possible. I'm confident in my training, and know that between that and adrenaline on race day, I'll do just fine.



Later.

The Inconsistent Blogger.

An Anonymous source has said that Micro-Blogging via Twitter isn't nearly as interesting as Blog posts.

And they couldn't be more right.

Trying to tell an interesting story via Twitter is like someone trying to write Fight Club via Facebook status updates. ("I am Jack's Wall - help me in Farmtown")

So then what's the deal with the lack of posting, you ask?

Just plain laziness and the inability to tell a story. Oh, I can talk a story - trust me. Nobody bullshits better than me. But trying to find something that I want to say and than making the time to say it seem to be my downfall right now.

I think I'll try and change that.

I do miss this place. It used to be my refuge,my place to shout out into the darkness and see what echoed back.

But after such neglect, if I shout is there anyone there to listen?
If you Blog and there's no one to read it, is it really a post?
Welcome to my digital tree - I'm going to chop it down and see if it makes a sound.

Later.

I Feel:

• That there's no excuse for prompt, punctual updates.
• That the previous statement makes me the biggest hypocrite in the world.
• That if you exclude the concert, the drinking, and the time spent with the Sidekick, I didn't get to spend enough time in Vancouver.
• That Twitter is both a boon, a distraction, and an addiction.
• That running 18 miles was the most rewarding solo effort I've done so far.
• That masturbation, although rewarding, can't be included in that declaration.
• That for the first time ever, I doubt my ability in regards to running.
• That looking up random music videos on You Tube is both cathartic and frustrating.
• That work,being work, is work- but sometimes doesn't feel much like work.
• That my inability to let go of a song will be my downfall.
• That reading Love Monkey was almost as good as reading High Fidelity.
• That I have to re-read some Tom Robbins.

Later.

Cream My Jeans.

I know it's only 14 seconds.
I know there's no lyrics.
I know there isn't even pictures of the band.



But there is the sound of Dave Grhol smashing the shit out of some drums. And if Josh Homme and John Paul Jones can keep up with him, this should be fucking Epic.



Later.

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.