Tales From The Eye

Gloomy

2012-02-02T21:56:00.002-06:00

Crazy change of course. Cindy and I on pins and needles as of late. Couldn't sleep last night. Felt like I was burning up. But just as I drift off, Liam makes an appearance. Says he can't sleep. None of us were sleeping. Maybe two in the morning that I drifted off. Maybe.

Up at 6A with the kids. No problem with Meg. Usual recent chatter from Liam. But by lunch, the fit hit the shan. Liam calling because his head is full of cement and what drains out is clobbering up his stomach. When we get home, he gets a fever. And is all nappy. Which will fire up Nurse McDougal's pain points.

Then an unexpected bomb blows up at work. Having to scramble remotely to put all the pieces back together. And a vendor is calling. And coworkers in Las Vegas are calling. And family is calling to check on Liam.

Cindy & Meg dash home. Have a science fair project to cobble together. Usually battle royal there. Comes out nice, with relatively few casualties. The smoke eventually clears.

But we hear from Ye Ol' Reflux, again. Which fires up Nurse McDougal's anxiety.

And to close the night, Meg decides she's too stressed to sleep anywhere other than in my bed. But a prayer and some water and my presence in her bedroom for a half hour calm her down. So everyone is in bed. And even the dog is snoring.

Tomorrow is a new day. Hopefully less gloomy.

A Month Of Letters

2012-02-01T21:03:00.000-06:00

I don't know Mary Robinette Kowal. Never met. Likely never will. Her in OR. Me in MS. But today I sent her a letter. She's thrown down a gauntlet she is calling: The Letter A Month Challenge. And I'm always fond of gauntlet-picking-uping!

Pretty easy rules:

In the month of February, mail at least one item through the post every day it runs. Write a postcard, a letter, send a picture, or a cutting from a newspaper, or a fabric swatch.
Write back to everyone who writes to you. This can count as one of your mailed items.

So, I picked up a pack of pens ($8) some stamps ($9) and a few writing supplies ($10.) I figure I'll surprise several of my friends with letters. Most of them have probably never seen my handwriting.

Less than forty dollars for one of MY experiments? That's cheap. And this time I'll be sharing. Seems like a good idea. We'll see how it goes.

Want a letter? Let me know! I'll send you one.

Marathon Training - Update #4

2012-01-27T22:10:00.000-06:00

Almost a week since I ran. Been icing and soaking each day. Still feel a twinge of pain just from walking around the house. Not nearly as bad as the rest of the week, though. Could barely walk on Monday. Both legs hurting as if I were moving on broken legs. By Wednesday I was able to keep a normal walking pace. But I still feel an odd weakness in my calves. And my right foot turns oddly, as if the toes are wanting to go further to the outside.

Easily the most pain I've had since I started training. Guess it was "shin splints." Which is a generic term, of course. Pretty much means: "pain below the knee and above the ankle." Suggestions included: changing my shoes, odd stretches before and after bed, and compression socks.

Not sure when I'll be able to run again. Thinking it might be at least another week.

If only I hadn't run on that cement...

Orchestrated

2012-01-25T22:19:00.000-06:00

Liam's officially the youngest kid in the Chamber Orchestra. They invited him to join them today! Want him to play the double bass for them. The only 6th grader, he says. Everyone else is in 7th or 8th grade. Cannot wait to see his first event!

Trumped Them All

2012-01-23T22:00:00.000-06:00

Liam challenged a kid for 2nd chair in trumpets today. Surprised us all with that news. Got better though. The kid he beat re-challenged Liam, and lost. Then the kid's best friend challenged Liam, and lost. And a third kid challenged Liam, and lost. Four victories in one day for him. Proud of that kid. He trumped them all.

12 Changes For 2012 - #12 - Remember Your Goals

2012-01-22T21:41:00.002-06:00

Mid-way through my short drive to work, I wake up. Five minutes or five miles completely unremembered. I don't know what I was doing. Or what was on the radio. Or what I was thinking. Just making the motions. Going from one place to the next.

How many of us lead entire days like that? How many times do we forget why we're driving? Or where we're going? Maybe we don't even have a destination at times. We're just driving. Putting distance between us and something else. Or someone else.

It is easy to forget our goals. Our destination. Why we make these motions. Put up with all this toil, or drama, or grief. If we are lucky, we wake up in the middle of our ride, and remember. But usually, we forget and keep driving. I forget all the time. Or I try to forget. Makes things easier.

We have to remember our goals. And do what it takes to achieve them. Maybe that involves multiple challenges. Sometimes multiple years. But losing sight of the goal means losing sight of what it takes to achieve them. And then we quit. Or keep driving in endless circles.

I keep long term and short term goals. The long ones are pretty simple: raise two children into good adults. It will have taken 20 years, or more, by the time I'm done. And I don't really know what I'm doing. I play much of it by ear. But I have a have lots of time to get it right. And most of my toil and drama and grief is done to achieve those long term goals.

My personal short term goals are much easier. They usually involve measurable challenges: drop back down to 185lbs, enter and finish a half marathon, complete more triathlons this year than I did last year, beat all my times last year, remodel the kitchen, and write write write.

I keep these goals in my head. But I'm constantly checking them. And in all cases I try to ask myself the same questions:

What do I want to achieve?
What is stopping me from achieving it?
What am I going to do about that?

Over and over, I'll go through those motions. Almost always finding something that is stopping me. And having to work hard to over come it. Maybe it is eating more sensibly. Or all the difficult training for the half marathon. Or managing all the pieces (and finances!) of completing a home renovation. But eventually, weeks or months later, I will find that nothing is stopping me, and I'll achieve a goal. I'll finish that half marathon. Back down to 185lbs. I'll get the kitchen completed. And one day, God help me, I'll have raised two children.

In the meanwhile, while I'm driving down these long roads, I have to wake up and remember my goals. Keep them in sight. Realize that nothing good is easy, or free. Remember what I want to do. Figure out what is stopping me. And decide what I'm going to do about it. Finally, one day, the ride will be over.

Marathon Training - Update #3

2012-01-22T19:43:00.000-06:00

Did something wrong. Something bad. Real bad. Flew solo and made bad decisions. Already regretting it.

So anyway, I figured I'd do 9 miles today. Went to eFit. Worked out a bit, just to warm up. Stretched. Then hit the road. Or more accurately, I hit the sidewalk. Concrete sidewalk.

About three miles into it, I wasn't feeling right. Feet not lining up. Something pinching in my hip. No right at all. And as I approached 5.5 miles, I couldn't do any more.

Think my shoes need to be replaced. Didn't feel supported at all. And probably should not have run on sidewalk the entire time.

But it is all too late, now.

12 Changes For 2012 - #11 - Eliminate Excuses

2012-01-19T20:30:00.000-06:00

Given enough time and motivation we will convince ourselves of almost anything. And we can create excuses for any situation.

Most of mine appear before I start training. Or before I tackle a big project. I try to talk myself out of it. Put as many mental barriers in place as possible. Kick the can down the road with false promises that I will do it later. But later will never come if I keep listening to my own excuses.

Here's a list of my favorite ones:

"I don't have time to eat healthy."
"Too much work to go to the gym."
"I hate running."
"I don't have the energy for that."
"It is too early for this."
"My back / legs / shoulder hurts."
"I don't want to embarrass myself."

And there's more where that came from. Plenty more.

Any time I'm faced with something difficult or challenging, the voices start distracting me. If I listen or give them validity, I'm screwed.

Even when I start actively training, I'm not safe. I continually try to talk myself into taking it easy. Or cutting a workout short. Or slowing down. Or not giving it my full effort. And of course there's more where that came from. Plenty, PLENTY more.

Many people face the same challenge. To some degree or another. Maybe they call it procrastination? But they're coming up with flimsy reasons to "do it later." And like me, later never happens.

There is only one course of action: stop making excuses and start making progress. Put another way: shutup and do it!

Simple as that.

Eliminate excuses. Don't just stop listening to them. Stop creating them. Replace useless discussions (especially negative internal discussions) with productive actions.

Less talking. More doing.

Talk when it is over.

Terminus Est (1000 Posts Later)

2012-01-18T20:30:00.000-06:00

Terminus Est. Latin. "This is the line of division." A tipping point. Between one stage and another. Between one reality and another. One life and another. Etc. You get the point.

I started writing Tales From The Eye in late 2005. We had just moved from Atlanta, GA, to Gulfport, MS. Liam was 5. Meg was 3. New jobs. New home. We wanted to be closer to our families. Away from the noise and grime and traffic of The Big Peach. But, less than 48hrs after unloading the moving van, Hurricane Katrina came ashore. And she carved my line of division. Abruptly changing everything. Terminus Est.

Tales From The Eye has been personal therapy. A dumping ground for the thoughts and images I find crowding my head. Digital sounding board for my sanity. A place to vent. Unload memories. Celebrate my private victories. One dork's experiment in archiving his soul.

1000 posts later. Everything makes more sense behind my eyes. Learned some lessons. Shed some layers. Earned new scars. Abandoned addictions. Acquired different ones. But overall, I've never been happier or more comfortable in my own skin.

A thousand posts is an odd accomplishment. Didn't expect it. Or plan for it. Just kinda snuck up on me. And I have dozens, if not hundreds, of unposted pieces of my life lingering under the bed sheets. Need to catch up on those. But for now, one more pat on my own back. And once more into the breach.

12 Changes For 2012 - #10 - Pick Your Battles

2012-01-17T22:05:00.000-06:00

I'm passionate about many things. I'm quick to voice my opinion. And I will fight for what I believe. But not on EVERYTHING.

What does drama ever solve? Is yelling productive? How often do we spend more time arguing than we spend trying to fix the problem that caused the issue in the first place? And arguments spread like wildfire, rarely leaving anyone untouched. It isn't uncommon at my house for one person to start yelling, then the other yells back, and eventually we're all involved as I try to defuse the situation but nobody hears unless I'm yelling, too.

I do not believe all disagreements or differences of opinion need to result in knock-down drag-out conflict. Sometimes, it is far easier for everyone involved if we just shutup and do what we're asked, told, required, or needed to do.

We have to pick our battles. Find opportunities to defuse confrontations before they erupt. And we have to realize that relationships are built on supporting one another, not competing against one another. And this is true of personal, social, or work relationships.

I constantly gauge my daily encounters and interactions. If possible, I try to conserve my sanity by resolving problems with the least amount of drama and energy as possible. If I have to do some extra work or clean up somebody else's mess, so be it. But I know that nothing good will ever come from an explosive confrontation. Everyone's going to get wounded if we go to battle. And some wounds take longer to heal than others.

When is it acceptable to put on your gloves and deliver an old fashioned beatdown? That's entirely up to you. Everyone has different tolerances. But consider asking yourself: Is it worth it? And will arguing make this situation better, or worse?

If somebody has to take the moral high ground, it is going to be me. The alternative is more drama, more conflict, and ultimately less sanity for everyone involved. In the long run, that's never a sustainable solution.

12 Changes For 2012 - #9 - Don't Defeat Yourself

2012-01-16T22:41:00.000-06:00

There are two phrases that have repeated throughout my life: "You can't do that!" and "Oh, I could never do that!" Either somebody telling me what I cannot do without any thought of encouraging me rather than defeating me, or somebody telling me what they cannot do without a care that they're defeating themselves.

But don't we all do it? Don't we all tell each other what we can't do? Or say how we shouldn't even try? If something is hard, if it takes dedication and patience and practice and grim determination, why do we think it is somehow impossible? Not even worth trying?

A year ago, I'd never competed in a triathlon. Swimming scared the hell out of me. I hated running. Literally, hated it. And I'd never ridden a bike for two miles, let alone 20. I didn't know if I could finish one piece of a triathlon, let alone all three. I had doubts. And I had fears. But every lap in the pool fed me courage. Every mile on the bike quieted the little voices of fear. And during every run on the road I made it through it by telling myself: You can do it. You can do it. You can do it.

I did five triathlons last year. I didn't win any of them, but I didn't fail. I didn't quit. And I didn't accept defeat.

When I tell my formerly-athletic friends, who grew up playing sports and pursuing their own victories, that they should try to get active again, what do they say? "I can't do that." Why not? You're telling me a life long geek can do something a former athlete cannot? When I tell friends or family that they should join me some time, what is their reaction? "I can't do that." Why not? I was the smallest, clumsiest, least fit person they knew, and somehow I'm more capable than they are?

Don't get me wrong. I still try to defeat myself. Every time I run, I think: "You can slow down. You can walk for a bit. You don't have to go so far." Every time I swim, I have to tell myself: "You won't drown. Just breathe. One arm over the other." Every time I bike, I watch the miles and try to figure how much longer until I can stop. I always try to defeat myself in such small ways. But I'm prepared for it. I know it is all a trick. That I can do more. I can try harder. I can chose to do it. Or I can chose to quit.

Don't defeat yourself. You're going to have doubts and fears and want to quit. But don't give into to those voices. Don't chose to quit. And don't let other people convince you to do it, either. They've defeated themselves for years, or else they'd be encouraging you. They're bad enough, but don't defeat yourself.

You can do it. You can do it. You can do it!

Marathon Training - Update #2

2012-01-14T21:10:00.000-06:00

Another great run, tonight. New personal record: 8 miles. Ran with Luke & Brendan, again. Left their shop and cruised through the industrial seaway. Stopped for a pee break. Doubted myself the whole way. Wanted to stop all the time. Didn't stop except when scheduled. Kept following and telling myself to do it. Got waaaay dark. Headlights throwing off my night vision. Ran through some unknown neighborhoods. Had to keep up. Or get lost if I stopped. So I didn't stop.

Great run. 8 weeks to go. At this pace, I should be good.

12 Changes For 2012 - #8 - Timeshift

2012-01-12T20:52:00.000-06:00

Today's suggested change is no big secret. Most of my friends beat me to it. And I am a late adopter of timeshifting. (Tivo has been out since 1999!) But now I cannot imagine getting through a week without using it.

Timeshifting is simply using a device to record television shows. The two usual choices are buying a Tivo or renting a DVR from your cable company. You save them to save shows and view them later. Or watch a show while it is recording, pause it, then resume where you left off or fast forward through recorded portions. It is very easy once you're used to it. And fairly addictive after that.

Here is why you should timeshift: FREEDOM!

First, you get to watch what you want when you want. No more being forced to watch specific shows at specific times. No more adjusting your schedule to appease the TV. A couple of clicks of the remote and you can record months of episodes, an entire season if you'd like, and view it whenever you please. Timeshifting also allows you to record one channel (or more) and still see another. So you no longer have to pick between shows, if you have multiple favorites playing at the same time.

Second, you can skip what you don't want to see. Namely: commercials! These days, the average hour of television contains seventeen minutes of advertising. And, if you're like me, most of it does not appeal or relate to you. By fast forwarding, you can cut out more than a quarter of wasted time. Do that with just a couple of shows, and you've recovered an entire hour you can use elsewhere. Do that once a week, and by the end of the year you've recovered more than two days of time.

Optionally, Netflix is starting to get a big selection of television series which you could watch. And Hulu is almost as awesome. But those products take a little longer to decipher, and don't have the same variety as if you do all the recording yourself.

Renting a DVR from your cable company might cost a few extra dollars each month. But figure out how much 52 hours of your time is worth. Probably much more than the price of a DVR? And what is the value of living by your schedule rather the the TV guide's?

Give it a try. If you're like me, you'll wish you had done it much, MUCH sooner.

12 Changes For 2012 - #7 - De- Clutter

2012-01-09T22:00:00.000-06:00

At what point do we have enough? What is "too much?" And at what point did we cross the line so that now the things we own have started owning us? All this stuff begins to take up too much space in the house. And even more space in my head. Do I need to get a bigger house? Or do I need to get rid of some of this stuff.

Today's suggested change is based on a practice I've slowly been adopting: Declutter! Get rid of what you do not need. And get rid of what does not have special financial / sentimental value for you. Free up space in your home. And space in your head.

Two examples of simple decluttering that have had small but marked impacts on my personal life.

Last year I examined my "keychain." (You know, that four pound length of steel and brass and oddities we men keep in our front pocket or dangling from our beltloops on a d-ring.) With a little thought, I realized I didn't need to keep: keys for my wife's car (which I never drive,) keys for our storage shed (which I never use,) keys for secure rooms at work (which I've used once in yrs,) a small flashlight (my phone can serve as a light) or a beer bottle opener (since I don't drink at home and bartenders open my beers.) I removed everything and had less than half of what I started with. Fewer things in my pocket. Fewer things to lose. Fewer things to think about each day.
This year, I examined my wallet. (You know, that four inch thick hunk of leather, stuffed with papers and pictures we never look at, but keep stored in our back pocket causing gradual hip dysplasia as we age.) With a little thought, I realized I didn't need to keep: six months of ATM receipts, dozens of business cards from sales weasels I'd never call, business cards of my own I never handed out, and 8 different bank / credit cards (when I only used one regularly.) I bought a VERY minimalist wallet. It only holds four items. So I only carry: ID, bank card, emergency credit card, and some folded cash. It is so small and manageable that I don't notice it. Less space in my pocket. Less things to lose. Less things to think about each day.

When I'm surrounded by stray objects and mounds of unused debris, there is chaos and my mind wanders, finding it harder to focus. Decluttering and having a clean, simple environment gives me peace of mind, purity of thought.

Slowly but surely, I'm scouring my life and finding places to remove the debris. The chaos. And the older I get, the more I understand that less is more.

12 Changes For 2012 - #6 - Decisive Change

2012-01-08T21:43:00.001-06:00

We are creatures of habit. Some more-so than others. I have my morning routine. A certain seating arrangement when eating. Specific pockets for keys and wallet and phone. Such things help to grease the cogs behind our eyes. Make our lives easier, if only slightly.

But the human condition which discourages change is a double-edged sword. We not only stick to those things which work for us, we also cling tenaciously to those things which work against us, things which make our lives less easier.

Think of those people in your life who complain about the same thing every day. Year after year. Doing nothing to fix their issues, except complaing to you. What about your friends who make the same bad decisions, over and over. Again and again. Always with the same bad results. But don't we all have some kind of painful compulsion we chase in endless circles? Some more-so than others.

Today's suggested change could be one of the most difficult ones, but also potentially the most rewarding: Look at your life, find something that is broken, and make a decisive change to fix it. Start small. Very small. The easiest of changes you could make. But make it, and stick to it. Even if nobody notices. Even if it doesn't have any impact on your life. At least you'll know you made one change in your life. And if you can make that one, you can make another. And many more.

But today's suggested change isn't about restructuring every element in your life. And it is not about making an impossibly-long list of things you'll start doing differently tomorrow. It is about picking something that does not contribute toward your happiness, and deciding what other thing will make you happier. Break the endless cycle of knowing what is broken while doing nothing to fix it. Stop complaining. Start changing.

12 Changes For 2012 - #5 - Don't Diet

2012-01-06T20:42:00.000-06:00

Americans spend a tremendous amount to lose weight. In 2010, we spent SIXTY ONE BILLION DOLLARS just to shed a few pounds. Big chains like Jenny Craig and Weight Watchers collected $3B. Diet pills and meal replacements took in $3B. And food delivery operations like Nutrisystem received $1B.

The typical dieter makes four attempts per year. Which means most people fail at least three times. And 80% of dieters do it completely on their own, without any support or professional help.
But despite all that money and all those attempts, as few as 1 in 5 people (in Colorado) and as many as 1 in 3 people (in Mississippi) are still obese.

Do you know anyone who has successfully gone through a "diet" and continued to keep the weight off? Or do you know plenty of people who have gone through all manner of diets, with little or no long term success? Think of all the friends you know that try this fad diet or that fad diet and always seem to be trying something new every other month. And how much money have them spent? Do they seem happy with their results? Sadly, their cycle will probably never end.

Why? The simple answer is: diet's do not work. They never have. And they never will. Sure, a diet may help you take off excess weight, but what happens when you go off the diet? When you resume the habits that cause you to resort to a diet, the weight will inevitably return. And possibly with a vengeance.

Everyone I know who has lost weight and kept it off has succeeded because of long term, long lasting changes to their eating and exercise habits. They all made a commitment to their health and stuck to it. They all eliminated fast food. They all avoid sugar. They all observe some form of portion control. And they all take part in some form of exercise three or more times a week. That's it. No complex formula. No magical devices. No hidden secrets.

So today's tip is suggest change is simple: Don't diet. You're wasting your time and money. Instead, change your lifestyle. And stick to the changes. This means eating better by avoiding fast food, sugar, and excess carbohydrates. And get active so you can burn off anything extra you might be consuming.

You can be healthy. You deserve it. And you can achieve it. But do it right. And in the long run, you'll be much happier.

12 Changes For 2012 - #4 - Track Your Intake

2012-01-05T22:02:00.004-06:00

Most people do not plan to eat poorly. I don't think much planning goes into most meals at all. The vast majority of mine are completely spontaneous and given less thought than what I'm going to wear to work in the morning. With this overly-familiar lack of forethought, we wander through a haze of blissful uncertainty, hoping we eat something remotely nutritional but as least destructive as possible.

One day (shortly after my dearest bride advised that I would soon need to upgrade to larger pants due to the continued growth of my waistline) I made the unusual decision to start tracking my food intake. I picked a simple, easy-to-use website and diligently recorded all my meals. At the end of the month all the data revealed that... ...low and behold... ...I usually consuming far too much fat, way too many carbs, and not nearly enough protein. A poor diet, indeed. Suitable for one thing: packing on layers of blubber.

It didn't take too long to make adjustments, once I knew what to avoid and what was providing good quality fuel for Ye Ol' Guns. Some interesting discoveries: lamb is loaded with protein, fried anything is as fatty as it is delicious, and you can eat as many carrots or celery sticks as you like without concern for your gut.

The moral of today's tip: Pick an internet site that appeals to you, track your intake, and use it to gauge what you're doing to your body. Cut back on the bad stuff. Have an extra serving of the good stuff. And if you over-do it a bit, some extra situps will keep the hounds at bay. If you're anything like me, you'll be amaze to see how quickly the numbers add up. And the reason you've been getting thicker will become all too apparent.

Here's a list of sites. They're all good. Pick the one that you find easiest to use:

BodyTrace
DailyBurn
Eat.ly

FatSecret
FitDay

MyCalorieCounter
SparkPeople

The Calorie Counter

The Daily Plate

Traineo

Weightwatchers

Once you know what you're consuming, you can see where to make adjustments. And I will offer you one final spoiler: the stuff you love the most is also doing the most damage. There, you've been warned.

Last Day Off

2012-01-04T22:11:00.002-06:00

I burned some time to turn this week into a five day vacation. Today marked the end of it. Full of awesomeness and The Happy. Started with some much-needed extra sleep. Progressed into me continuing my quest to de-clutter my life. I abandoned some of the trappings of my life in Atlanta by packing up a truck load of old computers and servers and accessories and hardware and cables then donating it to the local school district. Hopefully they can make use of the equipment. Give it all a new home. Maybe some poor teacher's workstation. Bring her a few extra moments of joy when her copy of Microsoft Word opens ever-so-quicker. Printers, speakers, switches, firewalls, KVMs, spare memory, power supplies, and everything from coax to 100 foot spools of CAT6. Haven't touched any of it in years. It was taking up space in the garage and leasing room behind my eyes. But no more. I'm done with it. And all the clutter in caused in my life.

Then off to lunch. My Mom and Grandma. Chinese food. Super Chinese Buffet, up HW49. My favorite because it has a Mongolian grill. Only I didn't eat off the grill today. Wasn't digging the thought of extra carbs attacking my midline. So I stuck with the essentials: General's Chicken, Pepper Chicken, Steamed Dumplings, Hot & Spicy Beef, Crab Ragoons (which have as much crab as a lunar landing,) and a lone eggroll. Good stuff. Great to see Grandma. She's doing well. My Mom, too. Everyone happy and fine as fish fur after the holidays.

Liam comes home to let me know he made a 100 on his district math test. But he mis-spelled "roommate" on his attempt to join the spelling bee team. Didn't really want to join, he says. "ROOMMATE?" I says. But he did make a 100 on that math test. So I don't hold it against. He doesn't really need any additional activities right now. He has a lot on his plate. Plus, he tried a new chicken dish for supper. So bonus points there.

Then off to the gym. Back & biceps. Bit of a walk around the track to stretch. Then an hour of swimming drills. Grrrrreat workout in the water. Feel 9000% better than I did earlier. Needed that. And a great way to end my last day off!

12 Changes For 2012 - #3 - Avoid Carbs

2012-01-04T20:00:00.000-06:00

I knew all kinds of faddish folks who ate burgers without bread. Or wrapped their sandwiches in a great big lettuce leaf. Same folks would scream like a vampire in Holy Water if a french fry touched their plate. Unfortunately, none of these trendy hipsters could articulate in simple sentences WHY they went all OCD on the carb thingy. Always seemed like bread was some kind of tasty Kryptonite that robbed them of their super powers.

So here's the tip, followed by a simple explanation of why you should try it: Avoid carbs! (Especially white bread, pasta, and the various forms of potatoes.) You should avoid them because carbohydrates (especially refined carbohydrates) disrupt your insulin levels and cause increased fat storage in your fat cells. Want an example? Ever notice that "I need a nap" crash you feel after lunch? Usually carbohydrates goofing with your insulin levels. Multiple that feeling times a couple of years and think about the steady, glacial growth of your waistline. That, my friend, was a result of excess carbohydrate intake

Notice that today's tip is to AVOID carbohydrates? That means to make a personal choice to eat something else, if at all possible. It does NOT mean go all creepy obsessive or freak out about micro-managing carbs. Eliminating carbohydrates completely is no easier than eliminating sugar completely. But do what you can to avoid the biggest sources of carbohydrates. You'll still get plenty of them in everything else you're eating. Don't take my word for it, check the ingredients and you'll see it for yourself. But trust me, it's ugly. Let me know when you pick your jaw off the floor.

How to avoid them? Here's my usual plan: don't eat french fries or chips, don't eat pizza, don't eat pasta, and only eat whole wheat bread with sandwiches. First week I started to aggressively avoid carbs, I dropped 5lbs right off my pale white belly. I still crave pizza. I still eyeball pasta. I eat homemade lasagna because it is impossible to resist. But whenever I can, I avoid carbohydrates. The transition was much easier than I would have thought. And those 5lbs never crawled back on my belly.

Marathon Training - Update #1

2012-01-03T21:13:00.001-06:00

A personal milestone on Saturday: ran 10K. With Luke & Brendan from Run N Tri. A big empty subdivision. Going in loops for an hour and seven minutes. 6.70 miles in all. 10:08 min per mile. Fog was so thick I had to run without my glasses. Felt pretty good, but I was on fumes by the end. Nine weeks until the event in New Orleans and I'll need to add a mile each week to my long runs.

But as proud as I was of my run on Saturday, I'm disappointed by my run tonight. Was only going to do a short one, 5K. But my calves were full of concrete by the first mile and my pace fell off significantly. By 4K, I was clenching my teeth and forcing my legs to move. The pain and tightness was completely unmanageable and I called it quits at 2.6 miles, averaging more than 12 minutes on what distance I did manage to cover.

Don't know what happened. Maybe it was residual effects from the Mexican food yesterday? Maybe not enough stretching? Maybe the colder weather? Or the lack of running partners? Not sure.

Supposed to run 4 miles tomorrow and 3 on Thursday. But I'm going to skip tomorrow and try to cover 4 miles on Thursday. Hopefully I perform better next time. If not, I'll be looking for suggestions.

12 Changes For 2012 - #2 - Sweet Detox

2012-01-03T16:27:00.002-06:00

One of the simplest changes to make is also one of the hardest: give up soda. Even "diet soda." And if you're living in The South this means giving up sweet tea. Just replace soda, diet soda, and sweet tea with water.

My own greatest hurdle was Mountain Dew. When I worked over-night shifts for 12hrs at a stretch, I drank at least three a night. Sometimes six. That was 300% to 600% the recommended daily dose of sugar. 5 days a week. Not to mention all the caffeine! And as a kid, I probably drank soda three to four times as much as I ever drank water.

Most sodas these days contain enough sugar (usually a minimum of 10 tea spoons!) that your stomach would backfire from the excess sweetness. But there is a key ingredient (phosphoric acid) that cuts the taste and calms your stomach. Without that ingredient, we wouldn't be able to hold down that much sugar.

And not only do diet sodas contain chemicals (especially aspartame) which are toxic at all but the lowest levels of consumption, they also contain higher levels of sodium. Drinking them causes the body to retain water. Ultimately meaning more weight, not less.

For an example of the effects of just one soda, read: What happens when you drink a Coke.

Unfortunately giving up sodas and Southern tea still doesn't eliminate sweets. Thanks to industrial food production, avoiding sugar is almost impossible to do today. Many modern foods are laced with High Fructose Corn (HFCS.) If something you eat tastes sweet, it is likely due to HFCS. Salad dressing. Ketchup. BBQ Sauce. Honey Wheat Bread. Cinnamon Rolls. Brownie Mixes. Potato Salad. Breakfast syrup. Frostees. Applesauce. Chicken salad. Croutons. Bagels. Yeast Rolls. Fudge. Croissants. Grape Jelly. Mayonnaise. Lemonade. English Muffins. Hotcakes. And even salsa contain HFCS. And that's just a brief list. Check the ingredients list and you'll almost inevitably come across it. Especially if you are eating Fast Food. Check for yourself.

HFCS comsumption has increased dramatically since the 1970s when it was developed. The average American consumed 39 pounds of HFCS in 1980. And 62.6 pounds in 2010. Track the unintentional consumption of HFCS next to the increase in obesity, and what do you think you'll see?

Knowing that we're consuming dozens of pounds of sugar in what we're eating each year, drinking even more is a recipe for disaster. The best thing to do is eliminate the sodas and teas and stick to water.

For me, giving up sodas took time. And a very determined effort. But I wish I had done it sooner. Water quenches my thirst now. I don't have wildly fluctuating energy levels. I'm not carrying around excess water weight. And I'm not drinking hundreds (if not thousands) of extra calories each day.

12 Changes For 2012 - #1 - Be Active

2012-01-02T23:07:00.002-06:00

Friends and family who haven't seen me in a couple of years sometimes ask: what have I been doing to get in better shape? So,I figured I'd start the New Year by offering 12 tips for changes that you could try in 2012.

The first is also the most subjective and abstract: BE ACTIVE!

But, what does that mean? It really is up to you. However, it will almost always mean you have to do more than you're doing now. The main thing to remember is: doing something is always better than doing nothing. If you're really doing nothing, just start off simple. Get out of your comfort zone a little. Get your heart rate up. Sweat a little. And you should do your activity three times a week.

When I was starting, I would hop on the treadmill for 30 minutes. At first I'd only go a couple of miles. I'd sweat like crazy. By the end of the run, I'd be out of breath and completely ready to quit. Three times a week was brutal. But eventually I was able to go more than three miles. Moved on to the elliptical. Then the indoor track. And these days (years later!) I run outdoors several times a week and I'm training for a half marathon.

I took it slow. I made gradual progress. I kept raising my goals. And I continually tried to push through my perceived limits. For me, that is being active. You're mileage may vary. But keep it simple at first. And do something rather than nothing.

Why We Fail

2012-01-01T18:53:00.000-06:00

I'm pretty good at failing. I have a long successful history of it. I'm arguably an expert at this point. Though I think I am losing my touch. Recently some things in life have actually gone well. And one or two of my efforts have seen positive results. Probably a fluke. But, anywho....

Along my way in life, I've discovered several reoccurring factors that explain my outstanding track record of failures. Perhaps somebody can benefit from my notes and experiences. But you should avoid them at your peril. They may disrupt failures if they're avoided.

First, ours is a generation that expects and accepts failure. I was told at an early age that everything I wanted to do was impossible. When I was a kid, I wanted to sing. I was told I had the heart of a singer but not the voice. When I was older, I wanted to run in local races. I was told I'd never even finish. Later: backpack across Germany. Impossible. Become a comic book writer? Impossible. Sci-fi author? Impossible. Play guitar? Impossible. Start my own Internet company? Impossible. Spot the trend? Every time I wanted to do something, I was told I couldn't do it. I wasn't supported. Wasn't encouraged. And best of all: I listened to everyone who told me I couldn't do what I really wanted to do. I accepted it. And I kept listening for most of my life. Thanks to that habit, I was finished before I even started.

The second factor that contributes to a life of failure: unreasonable expectations. When I wanted to play guitar, I thought a couple of lessons would put me on par with Jimi Hendrix. When I wanted to backpack through Europe, I didn't put an ounce of planning into it, as if the whole trip would unfold for me, without any effort or trouble. And when I wanted to start a company, my market plan consisted of "build it and they will come." How much (if any) of that was reasonable? I hadn't even hiked across a city block, let alone a foreign nation. I might as well have planned for my own space launch from the back yard.

Another reason that we achieve plenty of failures: we're soft. We don't want to do anything remotely difficult. When I wanted to play guitar, I didn't like what it did to my fingers. You know, that whole painful blister stuff. I didn't even try to get past that. I spent years trying to "get fit." But the soreness from running or working our once or twice defeated me each time. I didn't really try to get past that, either. It was so much easier to just quit. Time after time. Resolution after resolution. I didn't push myself. I just said things I'd learned from an early age: "You can't do it," and "Just give up," and "It's impossible." So much easier to eat wrong, live wrong, and behave wrong. I was always soft. I always took the easy way out. Never challenged myself. And accepted my own self-imposed limits.

The final reason we fail is ironic: we fear failure. We're terrified of it. Throughout our lives, we avoid failure at all costs. Rather than start my own Internet company and risk failure, I did exactly nothing. Perhaps I would have failed, but perhaps I would have succeeded. Now, I'll never know. I just accepted defeat without putting up a fight. I feared rejection letters from editors, so I never tried to become a writer. I feared I wouldn't get into a good college. So I didn't bother trying for good grades or academic excellence. Easier to be average by doing the least I could do. Those voices of the past coming back to haunt me again and again: You can't. Give up. Impossible. How many times did I listen to my own fears? I'll tell you: every time. Most of my entire life.

And that is why we fail. By accepting failure for ourselves and promoting it in others.

Then, think of those around us, in our lives. How often do we support somebody's dreams? How many times do we take part in their challenges, if only to move them a little further on their journey? How many times do we honestly want them to succeed when we've spent so much time failing?

What would happen if I fought for my dreams? What would happen if I supported somebody else's dream? That's my question and my challenge for 2012.

Where's Winter?

2012-01-01T10:03:00.000-06:00

75 degrees and stunning. This glorious first day of the year 2012. Feels like Spring. All of us out in the air. Getting sun on our lazy white bones. My shirt off. Cindy reading some book with her Paris Hilton shades in effect. Liam launching a frisbee skyward for the dog. And Meg, our living firework, decides to combine dancing plus scrubbing down parts of the house with a bright yellow sponge.

Here's the riddle: where's winter? Snow and grey in the rest of the country, but we are in shorts and t-shirts. Not that I mind, but it doesn't bode well when we're getting ready to start a back yard Mardi Gras when we're supposed to be hunkering down for a long winter's nap.

Close The Tab

2011-12-31T23:00:00.000-06:00

Ending the year with food and drink and music. Old Man Hodge. His lady friend. Lookout. Woodchuck. The Quarter. Nothing too radical. Don't want to temp a visit from The Law. A burger. Some beers. And an odd band that plays everything from The Eagle's Hotel California to C-Lo's Eff You.

Time to close the tab on 2011. Turning 40. Finally putting together the pieces. A lot of training. Bunch of races. Never been better. Spot of trouble at the office. Continued delays on budding prospects. Liam's music. Meg's writing. The kids continuing to grow beyond my anything I ever expected. Cindy's change of careers and return to school.

2012 ought to be interesting. An all new adventure. For all of us.

Next Steps

2011-12-29T14:11:00.000-06:00

Time for another challenge. Some loony, self-imposed sanction to prove to myself that I'm capable of doing the things I never did when I was younger. A protest against those haunting voices of my past. Raging against everyone who doubted or underestimated. Including myself.

So my next steps will include training for a half marathon. The Rock N Roll Marathon, March 4th, in New Orleans, LA. Thirteen miles through the heart of that ancient Crescent City.

Of course I've never run more than 5K. Or 3.1 miles. But this time last year, I hadn't even run that far. Or competed in a triathlon, either. Didn't let that stop me. Plus, I think a half marathon is a natural progression for me. And if I can do that, I can probably do a half Ironman.

I'm going to try. Try real damn hard. And I'll finish. Even if I have to crawl across the finish line.

The Greatest Present

2011-12-26T18:00:00.000-06:00

Everyone seems happy. Easily the least dramatic holiday season we've had together. Nobody really sick. Nobody passing away. Nobody disappointed or depressed. The odd air of happiness that has caught me off guard. I keep expecting an outbreak of anger and venom any moment. Instead I get Meg choreographing routines on Just Dance III while Liam plays on his new electric bass in the background. She picks a new song. He plucks out the beats, one note at a time. Peace & quiet at the McDougal house? The greatest present I could receive.

Lost Along The Way

2011-12-18T22:46:00.001-06:00

Interesting break from the norm at church. Local string orchestra joined the fray. Special performance. Nothing modern. Nothing electric. A pure and powerful acoustic set. Then the choir joined in. Including Glenda. (Hidden behind the conductor.) Their word joining with the clear, cool notes. Bleeding together against the church walls. Voices and musicians and instruments. Under the stained glass dome. All of us rapt by the sound and motions of it. Including me. All water-eyed as I think that sweet Meg and grim jawed Liam might be up there. Some day. Adding their light to the too bright glare. Both of them capable of so much more than their father ever was.

How did this get lost along the way? Musicians playing. Singers singing. Families and couples sitting together. Just enjoying an orchestra and an accompaniment of gowned choir folk. No screaming front men. Or howling groupies. Or sweating dubstep pumping DJs with their taped-up headsets. Or the drugs. Or the booze. Or any of the other ten millions things we have keeping our eyes into our brains and convincing ourselves that we're blind and deaf without a blackberry in one hand and a venti non-fat double decaff in the other.

Just performers. And music. And words. That's all. But it was the performance I'll remember the most this year. A too bright glare amid too many unbright days.

Meg's Christmas Choir

2011-12-13T22:42:00.001-06:00

Long day. Concluding with a visit to Meg's Christmas Choir. Usual litany of holiday songs. But on Joy To The World, I could hear distinctly hear my little girl singing her heart out. And when they sang Up On The Rooftop, it was transformed into Rap On The Rooftop. All the kids whipped out Santa hats and sunglasses. Then they took creative license with the lyric. Put a slightly modern spin on it. Completely enjoyed themselves. And the crowd went wild. All the while, Meg was feeling the funk and getting her unique little groove on. Beautiful to behold. And angelic. As always. Meg adds light to our lives. She never fades. Ever.

Health Through Duress

2011-12-12T23:01:00.003-06:00

My shoulder is better. Much better. My wrist is better. Much better. Hardly notice any ills now. Scale of 1 to 10? 8.5!

Started working out again this past Saturday. Nothing heavy. Nothing spectacular. Or impressive. But DAAAAAMN does it feel good to lift again. Lots of cardio. Lots of sweat. And some light lifting. Full range of motion. Move slowly. Maintaining full control. Two weeks of slack helped. But getting back on the weights feels like it is helping more. Some odd mechanism of health through duress.

Need to hit the road and train for a half-marathon. One coming in March. But I've run in a week. Too damn cold here in South Hell. But I'm going to have to fight through it and get up to speed or run the risk of walking thirteen miles. And that won't be pretty. But for now, I'm fine as fish fur.

Tolar Turns Five

2011-12-11T22:06:00.000-06:00

Tolar turns five today. Cindy's nephew. Darren's son. Liam's buddy. Quite the interesting little character. Sullen and careful with his actions. Keeps a strict economy of words. Makes me laugh when he decides it is the right time to speak to me. An old soul, I think. Like his cousin, Liam. Kindred spirits.

Pizza and a Batman cake. Angry birds blank, duplicate Nerf pistol, and Bayblades. What more could a boy of five need? Good times for the youngest lad in the family. Topped off by a win for the Saints, Cindy's final test, putting up our Xmas Tree, and a late dinner at TGI Friday's.

A slow Southern Sunday concludes a slow Southern weekend. Enjoying it while it lasts.

Kim's Wedding

2011-12-10T22:13:00.000-06:00

I went to college with Kim Kelly. Both of us with aspirations of writing. We drank more than we should have. Read a lot of books. Wrote some interesting stuff. Struggled with relationships. Each trying to find a path through the morass of our private realities. Nearly sixteen years ago, Kim came to my wedding. Today, Cindy, Meg, and I went to Kim's wedding. Liam, in his infinite wisdom, has decided he has had enough of weddings for a while. He opted to spend time with Gigi (Glenda) and Cousin Tolar. Much more fun, he says, than a wedding. Meg, however, was thrilled to be able to dress up and see two people get married.

Regardless of Liam's expectation, the wedding was great. Started with music from a pianist, a violinist, and a cellist (Liam's instructor!) The church was fairly new. A recent build of a Presbyterian congregation that used to reside on the beach, until Katrina. The music lead to the official ceremony. Slow creeping entrance of the groom and his crew in crisp grey attire. The bridesmaids approach in sleeveless purple. Then Kim. A longish, soft white dress. Hand in hand with her beautiful little girl, Zya. Very subtle, though very traditional affair: love, admonitions, vows, promises. What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder. And we, the watery-eyed friends and family, begin the crawl to the reception.

Bayou View Tennis Club. Vents blowing frigid air. Until Sheridan (another co-writer from college) speaks her mind. The four of us sitting by the glass, overlooking the river. Talking about New York, theater, Meg's writing, Liam's music, Cindy's career, triathlons, and wine. The bride & groom arrive. We eat at the modern Southern buffet. Cindy eats too little. I eat a little extra. We hug the newlyweds. Give them our best wishes and prayers. Cake is cut. Cake is eaten. Somewhat quiet. Somewhat subdued. And tomorrow, their life begins anew. Where there were two, now there is one.

Good things come to those who wait. And great things come to those who wait the longest. Godspeed, Kim Kelly. Godspeed.

Goofy Technology

2011-12-01T21:59:00.001-06:00

So we make a connection. Liam from home. Me behind an overly-Gestapo corporate firewall. He's on a laptop with a webcam. I'm on a souped-up workstation powering six monitors and supervising a billion dollar facility.

Even though neither of us install any software and we're using two different operating systems and I'm not even equipped for voice or video, but we fire up a Google+ Hangout and everything syncs. Point click. We're able to almost instantly communicate.

A couple of years ago, only true geeks were setting up direct connections like this. Pray everyone's webcam works. Find some sort of middleware to bridge the connection. Firewall ports. Bandwidth concerns. Everyone using the save code. Same version. Patch levels. But today? Point. Click. Communicate. Moses and the burning bush didn't have it this good.

And how do my kids show their appreciation for being able to access this amazing level of digital wizardry? By making faces, streaming LOLCats, and finding the most inappropriate use of the now goofy technology. A billion moving parts, and they put it to good use making themselves laugh. And me along with them.

As usual, I'm enjoying it while it lasts. They won't be young and affectionate forever.

Time Out

2011-11-30T22:11:00.001-06:00

Going to rest. Briefly. Time out from the gym. And tri training. Right shoulder been aching. Right wrist, the same. Haven't lifted since Friday. Getting better, slowly. Still not 100% though. Don't want to tear anything. Not, again.

And these short days. Depressing. Too much darkness. Too much cold. Feel it in my bones. Morning and night.

So I'll take a week off. Regroup. Decompress. And come back strong. Hopefully.

She says: gaping

2011-11-29T21:30:00.001-06:00

The stitches are out. Cindy's not happy with the situation. If you can imagine. The flexing isn't right. And the wound is not closed. Still open? She says: gaping.

Doubts it will heal. Doubts removing the alien tracking device was the right move. Doubts the stitches were in long enough. Swarms of doubt lingering around her head like a dull army of slow gray bees.

My prediction? The wound will heal. The flexing will get right. And she'll be the only one on Earth to notice the scar. But by the time those memories fade, she'll be on to the next arm of bees to keep her buzzing.

Patient Zero

2011-11-28T20:46:00.000-06:00

Cindy had homework. An assessment. A complete physical assessment of a patient, to be exact. And guess who had to be Patient Zero? Yeah, the husband. Moi.

Not only did I get to be the victim for twenty minute, I had to do it in a flimsy medical gown, while being videoed. Sounds like the plot for a really bad adult movie. But that is how I spent my lunch.

Hopefully she gets an A. All I got was a pack of cigarettes and a pat on the back, "Smoke up, Johnny!"

... Thanks...

Re-Citrixed

2011-11-16T21:16:00.001-06:00

Third 10+ hr day this week. Tenth day in a row. With two days to go before I can relax. I'm just plain tired. Mad. Tired. Disappointed. Stressed. Anxious. A Big Gulf sized swirl of negativity. That's me.

It's the second half of a massive overhaul at work. A push to get the enterprise re-Citrixed. The current system was old when I inherited it six years ago. It's stunk up the place long enough.

After three years of asking, I finally have the budget for a replacement. And exhaustion is a small price to pay to get out from under the old, rotting dinosaur.

Current Distractions

2011-11-15T21:27:00.000-06:00

Bieber's Non-Baby. Hannah Montana's Growing Waistline. KK's 72 Day Marriage. Missing Baby Lisa. Cain's Groping. Cain's Other Groping. Cain's Other Other Groping. Maks & Hope Voted Off. Dr Murray Killed MJ. Another Twilight Movie. Solyndra. Millionaire Basketball Players Want More. Broken Heart Syndrome. Facebook Spammers. Penn State Riots. iPod. iPhone.

iWhatever.

To Say No

2011-11-14T20:57:00.001-06:00

I don't understand addiction. The apparent loss of control. The willingness to sacrifice health, money, family, friends for a little bit of a rush. Or a brief escape from reality.

I've always had the ability to stop when I wanted. Or to say no. The only thing that ever held a grip one me was, strangely enough, Mountain Dew. I even remember the last one I had: August 3rd, 1999.

At the time, I didn't realize what I was consuming. Never thought to look. Each night like four or six of them. "Green devil," we'd call it. A quarter per can from the machine just outside our office. A dollar a night. Sometimes more. Helped pass the time. But while waiting for Liam to be born, I noticed the contents of the bottle. The sugar. The caffeine. The calories. And I quit that moment. Cold turkey. Twelve plus years ago. They still call my names sometime. But the voices grow fainter each year.

Unwinding

2011-11-13T22:14:00.001-06:00

70+ hours later, issued an emergency downtime, transferred the last critical server to the new cloud, and I'm finally finished. Nothing like a 7-day work week to test your mettle.

Paid for the conflict with a lot of my dwindling sanity. Couldn't take too much more during my fraction of a day off. Spent it unwinding. Hair cut. Movies with the kids via Netflix. Knocked out some choirs.

And tried to break in some new shoes. My Filas Skeletoes. Only put in a mile before rain fell upon me. But had a good little run. Easier to feel the difference between heel striking (bad) and keeping on my toes (good.) Already notice a different stretch in my calves. Not sure how it will affect my training in the long run, but I'm going to try it for a while and see what comes of it.

Tomorrow: another week, and another project. Hopefully it won't be as crazy. But I'll keep running, one way or another.

Tired

2011-11-12T23:27:00.000-06:00

Sixth day in a row. Sixty hours. Or more. Finally managed to get redundancy setup. Maybe not the best manner. Or most direct. But it works. And if any piece of the equation fails, other pieces catch the load. Tested everything. Twice. And it finally works.

So tired. Too much time focusing. Measuring too many possibilities. Compounded with the physicality of racking and cabling and labeling and powering and dressing the myriad connections. Physical. Data. Network. All different layers and concepts and concerns pressing through my skull. Need ten hours of sleep. I'll be lucky to get five. So I'll stay tired. Until everything is done.

Agent Scully's Surgery

2011-11-08T21:31:00.000-06:00

Some alien object has embedded in my bride's lovely hand. Not sure what it is. Not sure where it came from. Discovered it several weeks ago. At first, touching the area sent lighting through her hand, straight to her spine. Then she shined a flashlight through the meat between her fingers. And spotted the foreign invader. Like an angry grain of brown rice. Finally, last week, it started to rise to the surface. Forming an impressive zit-like head and daring me NOT to dig it out. (Click to zoom.)

However, Cindy being Cindy, I wasn't allowed to carve it out with a buck knife. Instead she opted for an out-patient adventure. Simple stuff, pretty much in line with what I wanted to do at home. But instead of Cindy slamming a couple of Jagerbombs, they'll put her under. And instead of a knife, they'll use a scalpel.

Ultimately, she did very well. Waited in pre-op for a couple of hours, texting checking Facebook. Then off she went. Twenty minutes later, the doctor comes to see me. Said he wasn't sure what it was, but sent it off for testing. Didn't have to dig to deep. Didn't see any nerve damage. Shouldn't even need physical therapy. And ten minutes later, they rolled her back to me. Shivering from the anesthetic, talking non-stop. A good sign. And she kept getting better from there.

Hopefully Agent Scully's surgery will not offend the alien hivemind. I think it was a tracking device. And once they realize she's off the grid, then the real adventure will begin!

The Chaos To Come

2011-11-07T21:00:00.000-06:00

My last semi-sane day. Tomorrow, a major work project begins in earnest. Not looking forward to the chaos to come. Resources flying in. The network team down a man. More than doubling the network density of my VM farm. More than tripling the storage reserves. And more than six fold more memory and computational resources. A big big upgrade. With me at the helm of this rocket. Changing out the engine while still in flight. We'll either crash and burn, or launch into a higher orbit.

Let's light this puppy... I'm ready to roll!

Full & Bored

2011-11-06T22:14:00.003-06:00

Didn't go to the Peter Anderson Festival. Didn't get the Jamaican food I wanted. Instead, Cindy went to church with the kids, I went to Academy Sports (for shirts and shorts,) then wasted a trip to Best Buy (for short power cables I couldn't find,) and Lowe's (for light bulbs and clothes hampers that didn't fit.) Fortunately, lunch made up for my disappointing morning when I had a delicious Philly Cheesesteak at Tony Nelson's, in Gulfport, MS. The freshness of the ingredients was very apparent, especially the buns. And I actually enjoyed the owner (Tony!) preparing the food in front of me. Also LOVED the hand-made raspberry lemonade on the side. Everything well worth the price and the not-too-long wait. Easily the high point of my entire weekend was the few minutes I had savoring this fantastic sandwich. The best cheesesteak I've had in 5+ years!

More of my infrequent To Do's once I went home. Replaced some bulbs. Scoured my room and drawers for unused/unwanted items. Ended up reducing everything to far more manageable levels. Now, if only I could find a way to donate my mountain of books, I could reclaim even more of my life, time, and sanity.

Finally an interesting workout at the gym. Standard superset for forearms. Then a KILLLLLLER core workout, courtesy of P90X. I thought I had some core conditioning. I thought wrong. A third of the way into an 18 minute workout and I was drenched in sweat, panting like a teenager on prom night. Wrapped it up with some great yoga. By the end of which, I had been joined by a 60+ year old Indian gentleman. He was across the room, doing poses, too. We didn't speak. Or I didn't. Had my headset on. But if his routine was half as enjoyable as mine, he went home a happy old dude.

And that was my weekend: Tasks. Training. And ho hum.

Training, Footwear, To Dos, & Dullness

2011-11-05T21:45:00.000-05:00

Started off with some training at the gym this morning. Shoulders: dumbbell raises, machine press, machine raises, cable lifts, and machine shrugs. Plenty of energy and strength. Didn't over-commit but pumped up the intensity on most of the sets, especially the machine presses. My old wound continues to hold its own. I'll see if it can raise the bar, next week, with some new exercises.

My old Zoot running shoes wore out waaaaay too quickly. Not even six months of moderate workouts and they're worn thin. Like me. But some of the pads have faded. A couple are missing. And the heel pad is rapidly peeling off. I won't buy any of those again! Replacing them with Fila's new "They Aren't VFF" brand: Skele-Toes. Super minimal and I won't be able to use them during a triathlon (since it takes so long to put them on) but should be good for training. And they only cost $35. So if I loathe them, I'm not out TOO much.

Knocked out a could of lingering "To Do" items around the house. Went on a mini-cleaning spree to bundle all my training supplies into one much smaller location. Everything pretty much fits in a box twice the size of a breadbox, now. Including water gear, fuel, and cold-weather gear. Also found a door-stop I'd bought for Liam's room. Brushed nickle. Installed it on the inside of his door, complete with a cool magnetic catch. Then I whipped out the wood chisels and reseated the latches on his door and the bathroom door. I doubt anyone will notice the fruit of my labors, but now the doors shut properly and do not require any muscle to catch correctly.

Concluded the daylight on a semi-run with Cindy. Went fairly normal for us: lots of holding back. I slow down to keep her pace. She stops frequently and doesn't push herself enough. Frustrating if I dwell on it too much. But at least it got us out of the house for a while. And I squeezed in some light cardio.

Grilled steak. Washed it down with a Woodchuck. Then fired up Netflix and Cindy slept while I watched "For Your Consideration." And that was the night I opted for, instead of music and blues and drinks in downtown Gulfport. Slings and arrows. Slings and arrows.

Fifth

2011-11-04T21:42:00.000-05:00

Another item added to the long list of things "Jon Wishes He Didn't Know." Today's reference being: Fifth Disease. Also called "Slapped Cheek Disease," because the child develops a redness that looks as if she (in this case: Meg!) was slapped. And that is EXACTLY how it looks. (Click the picture to zoom.)

Fortunately it is a fairly common disease of childhood and has no lasting effects. Nurse Cindy diagnosed it last night, after we came home from the orchestra. I took Meg to her pediatrician for a time consuming, expensive, but official verdict: Fifth Disease. Except the doctor said the redness could last weeks and it isn't usual to see it spread so far down the back and belly.

But, it is what it is. And we all know Anxiety Woman will keep a close eye on Poor Meg for further developments. Left to her own devices, Meg's perfectly normal and still plotting to rule the world. Good girl!

Orchestrated

2011-11-03T21:15:00.001-05:00

Following another brutal day at the office, the family converged at Gulfport High. Me, Cindy, Meg, Nana, Jason, Morgan, and Paw Paw Raybourn. A big fall music event. And Liam orchestrated for us. (Click the pic to zoom.)

All the schools kids dressed up in new clothes. Liam rocking a bowtie. Listening to them warm up. The bass notes low and clean. An excitement hanging thick in the auditorium.

Liam's group sounded great. Half the songs were very dependent upon his bass. Spy vs Spy. Stand by me. We all cheered and gave Liam a standing ovation. Great show. Everyone proud of him. Huddling around him and taking pictures. So much talent at such a young age. Lightyears beyond anything I was capable of. Already grown beyond the limits of any talents I passed along to him.

Then we come home. And out of nowhere (NOWHERE!) he picks up Meg's violin and starts playing. As if he'd been practicing on it. Took the songs he knew from his bass and played them the violin. It wasn't perfect, but we could hear what he was doing. And it wasn't bad at all. No idea where THAT came from, but it blew my mind right through the back of my head. And he's only twelve?

Rough Week

2011-11-02T21:38:00.002-05:00

Non-stop at work. Three hours of back-to-back calls yesterday. Five hours on the phone total. So many projects. Each with a multitude of moving pieces. Everything up in the air. Vendors. Other engineers. Folks flying in. Hardware to unpack, rack, and cable. All different configurations. Most of it is breaking new ground. New network. New storage. Now layers. Nobody with any experience to help. No formal project plans. Just lighting the rocket and praying I can hang on. The air getting cold and thin as we climb higher. I'm staring into the sun most of the time.

Still training in the gym. Half marathon group starting up next week. Biking this weekend. Was supposed to swim today. But (of course!) seconds before I leave, something goes sideways. And I don't surface for nearly two hours. No mood for swimming, or anything else, after that.

There's always tomorrow. Another step closer to the end of this rough week.

The Ruse Is About To Be Revealed

2011-11-01T20:37:00.000-05:00

How quick that green worm turned. The illusionary euphoria of "the market" dispelled like a cheap parlor trick. The hedge fund wizards' bluff of pretending debt can be infinitely extended called by the Greek President himself who went All In, issuing a surprise public referendum on the pseudo-enforced referendum deal.

Maybe Greece will just accept default and go their own way, much like Iceland in late 2008. The Greeks can't pay their debt now, haven't been able to pay it for more than a decade, and even a 50% reduction by their creditors won't help. Any deal they accept now just prolongs their suffering.

But why all the drama and fury by the weeping wizards of Wall Street? Because they know the ruse is about to be revealed. That the financial emperors have no clothes. And even less money. Much like the burning hordes of Greece, the market mavens are all in debt to their red-rimmed eyeballs and have no way of paying their own liabilities once the collection plate gets passed around the room.

If Greece goes Tango Uniform, failing to meet its obligations, then a hailstorm of counter-party risk, in the form of Credit Default Swaps (CDS) will need to be paid out. Computerized triggers will get pulled. Bank accounts will open. And suddenly several million CDS holders scream "BINGO!" because they're owed several trillion (yes, TRILLION!) dollars on their risky investments. Except nobody is excited. Nobody is getting ready to collect their filthy lucre. No screams of bingo. Or triggers being pulled. Instead, the panic has started anew.

It is very likely that even though CDS have been piling up for more than a decade, few (if any) of them will be cashed in. Why? Because of the other end of the ruse, the other half of the lie: the so-called owners of the CDS never actually paid real money for those CDS they're clutching so tightly. Instead, they just promised to pay real money at some future date, which never arrived. No money has ever changed hands, and those risky investments aren't worth the paper their printed on (if they're printed at all!) because the owners can produce no receipt proving payment. So the effective worth of all those "investments" is actually close to zero.

And that is what this crisis is about: the fiction of money. There is none. No hedges. No bonds. No deposits. No protection. No backing. No insurance. No real cash. Nothing. Just a punch-drunk collection of grinning frat boys electronically exchanging nods and winks and promising to pay the beer tab next week. Like they promised last week. And for ten years worth of weeks before that. But now the tab is so ungodly huge that it dwarfs the Gross Domestic Production of many small nations. And the only thing the frat boys can produce for payment are rancid burps and well-manicured beer bellies.

Meanwhile, all their cars and houses in the Hamptons andregularly scheduled pay-per-views of Ultimate Fighting Championship have been funded by our IRAs, our pension funds, and the hollow shells of our 401Ks. Every penny and every real dollar we "invested" in the magic show of "the market" was instantly converted into ones and zeros then mixed into a toxic slurry of computer generated financial vehicles like collateralized debt obligations, naked shorts, fault resistant traunches, and other indecipherable forms of financial derivatives. We're all competitors in some pre-apocalyptic version of Thunderdome: two men enter, one man leaves! Except in this twisted version of our new reality: your so-called retirement enters, and nothing leaves.

Maybe Greece has seen the truth and they are going to accept their fate. They would rather reject the deal of 50% debt reduction, walk away from Thunderdome, and take their chances at starting over from scratch. That is what is spooking the exulted wizards of Wall Street.

Meanwhile, the rest of us rubes cling to the steel bars and stare, slack-jawed and clueless, as Dr Dealgood recites his all-too-familiar lines:

Listen all! This is the truth of it. Fighting leads to killing, and killing gets to warring. And that was damn near the death of us all. Look at us now! Busted up, and everyone talking about hard rain! But we've learned, by the dust of them all... Bartertown learned. Now, when men get to fighting, it happens here! And it finishes here! Two men enter; one man leaves!

HalloBLEH!

2011-10-31T20:43:00.000-05:00

Cindy, Angel Meg, and Liam The Bounty Hunter prowled the streets by Gigi's house while I defended our door against would-be invaders. At least that was the plan.

Aside from one group of six kids, I had no visits. And I am not even sure those children were from our neighborhood.

Next year, I think I'll just leave a sign reading: "Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me!"

So much for Halloween. Turned out to be HalloBLEH!

These Easy Days

2011-10-30T21:22:00.000-05:00

Took Liam to get his haircut, today. My old comrade Dane's place. Known Dane since we were in Kindergarten. Didn't see him for almost twenty years, after Jr High. We didn't recognize each other for six months. Now he cuts my hair. And Liam's.

The kid needed a cut. Badly. Down past his eyes. And thicker than Cindy's Southern drawl. Thankfully, Liam behaves these days. Doesn't give me much grief, especially when he knows an outburst would result in a loss of electronics.

Lunch with Mom & Grandma, afterward. Chinese buffet. Grandma eating as much as I do. Mom piling thick green wasabi on each piece of sushi. Morgan and Liam hanging out with Dad. Burger King for those three. Though Morgan likes Chinese food.

Grandma looked great. Sounded great. Still lots of holes in her short term memory. She always asks me if I lost a lot of weight. How I did it? In her mind, I'll always be that slow, 217lb grandson. I suppose it is a pleasant surprise for her every time she seems me. I hope so. I don't mind telling her about my training and races each time I see her. It doesn't hurt either of us.

Off to the gym, afterwards. Shoulders and legs. Fantastic workout. Having to purposely try much harder to push myself, these days. My normal workout wasn't doing much. I'd grown used to it. So I am changing to some different exercises and adding even more weight. Been a while since I have been this sore. But at least I know it is effective.

I will miss these easy days. Things could easily turn sideways. When Liam and Meg are off to college. Or when all they want to do is challenge me. When Mom's memory starts to tatter. When Grandma joins my Grandfather. When the gym isn't comfortable or accessible to me. So I enjoy them while they last, these easy days of mine.

Fall Festival - 2011

2011-10-29T21:53:00.000-05:00

Fall Festival at Bayou View Elementary. Beautiful day for it. Just perfect. Big problem with the pricing, though. pretty much $1/ride minimum. As much as $5 for some of them. Or $30 for an all day pass. Thirty dollars? Am I the only who realizes how many meals that would buy for a kid? Or that we're in the throws of a prolonged recession? I'm thinking thirty bucks is a bit excessive. Fortunately, the kids settled for 10 tickets each. $20 bucks between the two of them. Within the range of my limited budget.

First thing they do? Paint their hair. Pumpkin and purple. It will come out in the tub. But for one day they're in disguise. Though most of the women there would kill or die to have Meg's natural hair color.

Liam played laser tag for almost an hour. Meg shuffled around with a classmate, tearing through the inflatable mazes, then made her own sour candy. They bought pizza and a Coke. And finally tackled the rock climbing wall! Sadly, I missed Meg's adventure while I was rounding up Liam. Then it was his turn. Liam almost reached the top. Two more steps and it would have run the bell. Listened well. But the height and the uncertainty got the most of him and he rappelled down. Meg and I cheered him up (it didn't take much) and we called it a day.

For $20, I think we had a great morning at the Fall Festival. Even though I didn't get to climb or eat anything!

Magicians & Drachma & Bluffers, oh my!

2011-10-27T21:53:00.001-05:00

The magicians on Wall Street celebrated with a furious stock market rally today. Their jubilation grew from their newfound hopes of fooling the American people into once again thinking there's an end in sight to our Great Recession.

"Markets up after Greece deal." and "Greece Worries Ebbs" causing investors to "give a thumbs up" and ask Siri to dump more imaginary money into the still-over-inflated Dow Jones. Gaining nearly 3% in a single day.

The world markets are playing a game of three card monte and Greece's unplumbed cauldron of debt is the pea they're trying frantically to conceal. European and American vaults are morbidly obese with Greek bonds. About $3,000,000,000,000 (that's trillions!) worth of toxic, unsecured Drachma. Stinking up the place like rancid moussaka. Greece is a drunken albatross dangling from Europe's neck. Nobody wants it. Nobody can save it. But they're too scared to let it slip into the Aegean Sea. So instead of cutting off the Euro's dead limbs, the magicians are trying to convince us that debt can revolve forever. But the other members of the Euro currency union (with the exception of Germany) cannot pay what they owe. And, like their big fat cousins, they teeter only a single Facebook update away from mob violence, political revolution, and perhaps even armed conflict fueled by cheap French cigarettes and little cups of seemingly-endless cappuccino.

Not to be outdone, politicians have taken to bluffing at the poker table while wagering the economy of an entire nation. The Republicans did it this past summer, bluffing during the tax talks, pushing the United States to the edge of financial default (with the rest of the world to follow) over whether or not to repeal the Bush tax cuts. German Chancellor Angela Merkel (their version of a President) did it today. She looked across the table and told the bankers to either accept a 50% write down of Greece's debt, or be prepared for the country's total financial collapse.

Hours later, Wall Street opens, the magicians conjure their best illusions, and suckers around the globe invest billions more in a failing system.

Oh my.

Uncivilized Reform

2011-10-26T22:18:00.003-05:00

Modern American society continues its downward spiral today as Oakland explodes in a cloud of tear gas, flashbang, and rubber bullets. Several hundred armored policemen, under cover of darkness, moved to disband members of the Occupy Oakland movement, which had been camping in a public park for several weeks. Jean Quan, Oakland's major who initially supported the protestors, left the job of breaking up the camp in the hands of a new police chief, and then she fled town.

The chief unleashed hell, on multiple levels, introducing all manner of violence and chaos on what had been a fairly peaceful (though messy and potentially illegal) protest. Those in favor of Occupy Oakland were incensed. Those opposed were inspired. Both sides now planning to turn it up a notch. The 99% vs the 53%, while the 1% quietly snicker behind their castle walls.

The question now becomes: Was Oakland a fluke or a sign of things to come? It is either an exception and we won't see any more Occupy events turn ugly, or it is the first of many more clashes between the entrenched, degrading system and a motivated collective of challengers.

Seems to me that Oakland is just following the pattern of uncivilized reform in America and across the globe. Feels awfully similar to the buildup to the "race riots" of the early 60s. How about the politically fueled Chicago riots of the late 60s? Remember Tunisia? Egypt? Libya? Greece? Isn't the pattern the same?

An unacceptable system is weakly held in place across the nation. (ie: political / social / economic oppression of the majority by a few select groups or individuals in power)
Compliance to the system is codified by laws, legislation, military or social enforcement. (ie: Increased influence of money and corporations over governments, dictatorships, autocracts, dogmatic theocracy)
Eventually, due to corruption, entrenched bureaucracy, and excessive public suffering, the system losses its legitimacy. (ie: The Great Recession starting in 2007)
Reformers appear to challenge the system, usually starting by exposing the corruption inherent in the system. (ie: Wikileaks, Occupy Wall Street)
New technology enables the people to organize in previously impossible ways. (ie: Twitter, Facebook, GPS.)
Reforms requested by the people are flatly rejected by the corrupt system.
The people continue to lose faith in the old, corrupt system and its legitimacy continues to degrade.
Eventually, civilized reform escalates into a full blown conflict between the two opposing sides, old versus new.
The old system either reforms itself (Mubark resigned after 18 days of protests) or the old system forcefully collapses (The Soviets Fall in 1989, Gaddafi's execution was a public spectacle)
Eventually a new era begins with a new system, and there is peace. For a while.

So. Is Oakland a fluke? Or just an inevitable stage of the process? Will our system reform itself, or collapse? Are those bankers in the shining glass skyscrapers getting nervous? How long before somebody realizes they ought to be Occupying D.C.? Or stage the mother of all protests outside the next GOP Debate? The story unfolds even as I type.

The End Of Your To Do List

2011-10-25T22:18:00.001-05:00

I should patent or copyright or otherwise codify my latest theory: you will never reach the end of your To Do List. Neither personally nor professionally.

At work, there are too many sources for adventure: tickets, emails, IM, bossman, walkups, phone, text, monitoring system, etc, etc. And it never fails that just as I'm trying to leave, somebody decides to call, write, or message me with a new request. Ended up leaving two hours later today. At the office, I'm up to four pages of items. About half are scratched off. Though I had only two pages at the beginning of October.

At home. Well, I have a motivation issue there. Plenty of projects calling my name. But I haven't touched any of them lately. Kitchen to patch. Boxes to unload. Attic to insulate. I suspect the lack of moral support as well as appreciation is a major impediment. I'd rather train, or spend time with the kids. Far more enjoyable and cost effective than toiling on the house.

I'm working on my lists, though. The more items I scratch off, the more room I have in my head. I know I'll never reach the end, but I'll pick up the pace and see how much damage I can do. Might as well...

New Addiction

2011-10-24T22:36:00.000-05:00

I've been harboring a new addiction as of late: Android!

Turned in my old Blackberry and picked up a new Google G2X. The transition was comparable to going from an analog, black & white television, to a fully digital 1080p HD signal on a 52" screen. Not only do I have the same access to all my work data, but I can trick this new one out will all manner of personal digerati: news feeds, training programs, even a customized OS if I get snarky. Camera is much better. GPS is much better. 4G signal at home. And I can actually talk on the phone while using all the data services, unlike my craptastic old Blackberry.

Next month, the quad core tablets should start appearing. Already contemplating that Christmas present. Pick up one of those and only touch my PC for gaming purposes. Well, except for my addiction to multiple screens. But, hey, this old dog learns new tricks all the damn time! At least I tell myself that...

Recovery

2011-10-11T22:02:00.000-05:00

After my first triathlon at Traditions, it took nearly ten days before I could walk normally. A month later, Buster Britton cost me a week of downtime. Now, after my fifth triathlon, I have not skipped a single day of training. My quads and calves are sore, but I was still able to run for three miles last night. And today I had an excellent chest & triceps workout. Tomorrow morning, swimming. This weekend, a 5K. I like this style of recovery!

I've never had any kind of recovery abilities before now. In high school, I was nearly cripple with scoliosis. I didn't run. I didn't swim. I didn't play any kind of sports. There were days when I did little more than lay as still as possible on the floor, hoping my spine would line up long enough spend a few hours without headaches or the muscles in my back seizing.

20yrs later, I'm up @ 0400, doing triathlons. Plan on training for a half-marathon. And maybe a half-Iron Man.

GAME - Dead Island

2011-10-10T20:30:00.000-05:00

For months this summer, Techland's Dead Island offered a multitude of promises: potent game engine, depth of plot, vibrant heroes, progressive character development, and zombies zombies zombies! Unfortunately, aside from a boring mass of drab, unfrightening undead, the promises were amazingly hollow.

The game engine was visually interesting, but there were so many devastating bugs that it is was obviously rushed to market far too quickly with too little testing. For example, getting multiple players together in the same game was tricky on the best of days. One of the crew routinely had to completely exit the game and restart in order to host sometimes. Throwables like grenades and Molotovs were unpredictably useless. I was killed more often by other players' throwables than I was killed by any enemies for the first week. And sometimes thrown blades would be rendered unrecoverable if a corpse fell incorrectly and blocked the item from your view. Once weapons became excessively expensive, the idea of losing them under a mound of rotting flesh was enough to make me stop throwing all together.

Dead Island's plot appears to have been developed by 12yr olds hopped up on Four Loko. The inconsistencies bordered on comically impossible. (When did we find Semtex? Why don't we just shoot these guys and take the keys? We'll cover the truck load of supplies by hiding in the sewers?) Even my ADHD-impaired attention span was rapidly lost at times. (Why are we on this boat? We're protecting this girl because...?) And the few elements that were actually believable were so trite that we predicted them well before most of them were unveiled. Horrible, horrible, horrible writing. Easily some of the worst I've endured since Zero Wing. What offends me worse than the pitiful content of the game was that somewhere, somehow people were paid to come up with it!

Then there were the characters. Impossibly worse than the plot. Each of them horribly stereotypical, badly acted, and drowning in dialog that was written by hung-over 12yr olds without access to their morning dose of Adderall. Again, the fact that somebody was paid to develop this seething cauldron of rancid monkey turds named Dead Island made me wince so much that my bone marrow was bruised. The characters were so bad that we collectively cheered when one of them was killed in a cutscene!

And finally, the main draw of the game: ZOMBIES! Sadly, Techland couldn't offer any form of innovation or the faintest speck or originality with their enemies. It was such a derivative rip-off of Left 4 Dead that we didn't bother using Techland's names and stuck with the names from L4D: boomers, spitters, and tanks. Dull, dull, dull.

Dead Island contributed absolutely nothing to the undead game genre. The lone redeeming quality was being able to suffer with my friends. We were able to mock it together and find humor in our shared sorrow. We'd inadvertently kill each other or barter wire for diamonds and champagne.

There's nothing even remotely worth recommending about this game. Were it not for the fact that I could play online, I would have deleted Dead Island after the first "Act" and demanded a refund plus compensation for my pain and suffering. I could never recommend ANYONE attempt to play it by themselves. And I certainly won't be playing it again. There's not enough booze in Biloxi to get me that drunk!

Liam's Turn

2011-10-09T21:14:00.001-05:00

Finally the day has come. After twelve years on the Earth, it was Liam's turn to mow the yard!

Happened because my second-hand mower refused to start and Pawpaw Mac brought his over as a loaner. Since it is easier to steer as well as dead-simple to shift, Liam took the wheel.

Some practice laps and a couple of tips on carving the yard into squares, and he pretty much did the whole thing by himself. Bit of a tussle with Anxiety Lass, but other than that, I had a great time turning over the reigns of yard work to my first born. Now if only he'd do his OTHER chores my sanity might return to pre-child levels!

Mighty Magnolia 2011

2011-10-08T20:48:00.000-05:00

Good news: I slept! First time I've ever managed to get more than three or four hours before an event. Bad news? I had an hour and a half drive followed by a two hour wait for the race to start. All while wearing tights and a t-shirt in low 60 degree weather.

Fortunately for our wayward hero, the sun paid the site a visit and quickly raised the temperature a few degrees. I stopped shivering around 7AM. And as 8AM approached, the water climbed into the mid 70s.

The swim went well. My wetsuit kept me warm and floaty. The course hugged the shoreline and most of the time I was in less than six feet of water. I did drift to the right too much. I couldn't find anyone decent to draft. But I didn't drown and finished the first let in about ten munutes.

The bike course was mostly good. Only a couple of challenging hills. I attacked most of them. Didn't gasp for air the majority of the time. And didn't have to touch my second water bottle. Before I pulled into the sub-division and slowed down, my bike computer said I averaged about 20.1MPH. And finished the 20 mile run in something close to 54 minutes.

The run was my best run, yet. Still had to stop a couple of times, but not for long. Usually 10 - 20 seconds. And only twice during the first two miles. Even jogged up most of the hills. And for the first time in any race, I actually passed a couple of people. As a result, wrapped up the run in a touch over 29 minutes.

Total time with transitions? 1:40:28. About 20% faster than my first event (2:02!) and good enough to finally break me out of the bottom 25% of competitors. I came in 98th out of 156 people. Only 5min behind Lisa (pictured) who is 10yrs younger and a much better runner than I am.

So I'm thrilled thrilled thrilled with my performance, enjoyed the event, and looking forward to my second triathlon season in 2012!

Pre-Race Day

2011-10-07T20:10:00.000-05:00

I took the day off. Have time to burn. And can use a stress-free day for a change. Less thoughts dedicated to digital woes. More thoughts dedicated to not drowning.

Started with a bit of a swim at 0745. Testing out the wetsuit. Getting a taste of the cold water.Robinwood Lake was appropriately cold. First ten seconds stunned me. Had to catch my breath. Focus on reaching forward. Trying to glide through the water, minimize my effort, concentrate on spotting my destination, keeping straight. That was the plan, at least. Of mice and men, and such. Ended up constantly pulling to the right. Taking me off course. Forcing corrections. All of which wasted time and effort. But, on a bright note, the suit provided a ton of buoyancy and I had no worries about drowning. First lap was the hardest. Second a bit easier. Third easiest, ever. I purposely took my time on the last lap. And it didn't slow my average pace at all. Showed me that fighting for speed resulted in nearly the same lap speed as keeping my cool. A trick I hope to use tomorrow.

After lunch, I drove over to check out the course and pick up my race packet. Thought the event was in North East Hattiesburg, MS. A big national park or such. I was quite wrong. I actually drove to West Hattiesburg, MS. Less than five minutes from Cindy's family farm! I could have brought all my equipment with me and stayed the night. Sparing myself an hour and a half drive. Waking up at 5:30A rather 4AM! (sigh) Oh well, maybe next year.

And the site was a bit odd. Nestled in the back of a stillborn subdivision out in the middle of No Man's Land. I couldn't get a single bar of cell coverage and if there was another human soul within a mile of the transition area, I'd be shocked.

But, aside from the isolation, it was actually a very nice course. The swim portion of the show was a point-to-point across a fairly nice lake. The bike leg covered some rolling hills through lightly populated back-roads. And the running section was entirely inside the un-trafficked neighborhood. If the weather holds up, it should be an interesting event!

Three hours on the road. Forty bucks worth of gas. But it beats sticking behind a desk resolving digital woes. Best day off I've had in a while. Hopefully tomorrow is even better.

Deckhands

2011-10-06T22:45:00.000-05:00

"Your hands remind me of my father," she says.

Sometimes I don't recognize my hands. Wrinkled from age.Veins more prominent now. Calluses. The training and all.

"He worked on a boat," she says. "A deckhand. Tending the rigs. Oil mostly. Sometimes gas. Only the hard jobs for deckhands. He would work a month on and a month off. Straight. No calls while he was gone."

"You only saw your father every other month?" I ask.

"Yes. But it was always a good month. He took care of us. Worked like that for twenty seven years. We were happy."

I know a couple of guys who work on rigs. Oil and gas. I know a couple of former deckhands, too. All tough, wizened old bastards. But I never heard of any local boats that are gone more than a week at a time. Certainly not a month at a time. And not for a quarter of a century.

"He always had such strong hands."

I'm sure she and her family were happy. I bet another family was, too. I don't tell her, though. She knows. Even if she doesn't tell me. Or admit it to herself. She knows where he was. And his hands.

Your Legacy

2011-10-05T21:08:00.000-05:00

Steve Jobs passed away some long moments ago. The media already eager to brighten the mewling California night with a thick swarm of digital pyres. Pre-written eulogies crawl on the scroll line of every channel. Maybe the Apple Stores will stay open longer. Flowers piled outside their polished glass doors. All the tech elite will make their pithy comment. His family will release a comment. Probably mention a charity. And then they will begin the long droning diatribes about Steve's contribution to the world. As if he alone was responsible. Parted the digital seas. Spread his jean-clad legs and birthed out the iPhone and iPad and iMac and iWhateverElse. The rebel Messiah of a billion fanboys. Hopefully the newshounds will keep the teartime to only a week or two.

But it all makes me think: What is your legacy? What will I leave in my wake? Crates of dogeared books. Dusty computers. Notebooks of unwritten novels. Bags of dice for forgotten role playing games. Known for my snide mouth? My dreams that always outpaced me? I don't want my name writ in water. I want to stand on the shoulders of giants, like Steve did.

Supposed

2011-10-04T21:28:00.002-05:00

I was supposed to have a vacation day.

I was supposed to train.

I was supposed to visit my massage therapist.

I babysat a semi-sick redhead. I sat on four hours worth of calls. I fixed some computer woes. I drained the battery on my cell. Twice.Didn't visit my massage therapist. Didn't train. And no vacation emerged from the depths. Nothing went as supposed.

But there's always tomorrow.

Down With The Sickness

2011-10-03T21:30:00.000-05:00

Started with Meg. Odd lethargy. Exceptionally quiet. Reserved. Diminished appetite. And then the fever. Slightly north of one hundred. Tapered off with some OTC meds. But re-appeared twice yesterday and over night.

My Mom to the rescue. Swung by to watch Red Meg. Then (surprise) gets a call from The Boy. Liam, knowing his sister is home, develops some stomach woes. Home Again, Home Again for him. Two for two.

The Trifecta of McDougal Sickness occurs in the ninth inning, after Lady McDougal returns from her Day Job. Symptoms present as a sore throat, perceived thickness in the right lung, and reduced energy levels.

Papa McDougal feels great, though. Excessively hungry from training. Full of vigor and venom. Elevated mood. Eagerness to take on the world. Certainly not down with the sickness.

The Distance

2011-10-02T21:43:00.000-05:00

Started off sideways today. Did not get the yard mowed. Did not work on the gutters. Or the kitchen walls. Usual conflict on the long term endeavors: lack of vision, lack of commitment, lack of resources. Soured my mood rapidly. So I threw in the towel on being productive.

Somehow, a nap flipped all my bits. Resynched everything under my hood. And I found myself going the distance at the gym. Three sets of 900 meters in the pool. A strength and drive that I hadn't felt in a long while. 54 laps. 2700 meters in total. Almost 1.7 miles. A new record, for me. Better part of an hour. But I did it. And felt incredible afterwards. The sense of accomplishment sweeter than anything I might shoot into my veins or drink from a glass. Leaving me, of course, wanting more.

Newness

2011-10-01T22:02:00.000-05:00

September mostly sucked. Traumatized early into it by an all-too-intimate brush with unemployment. Tens days of uncertainty and doubt. Weeks to regain my footing. Skipped a couple of triathlon events. Didn't have the mental or physical (or fiscal!) reserves. My buddy Ron's encounter with a flood. My bro-in-law Darren's vigil with his friend Wade. Nudging Jason towards closure on his legal liabilities from a failed union. Continued mysteries with the source of my Father's twenty thousand dollar ER visit. Just not a good month.

On a brighter side, the kids are doing well. Meg's new dance class. All her tales and drawings. Liam's taken to the trumpet. Continued success with the bass and the piano. And all A's for him thus far at school. Cindy is continuing her education as well as trying to get in better shape by running with me. So I do have blessings to count amid the slings and arrows I suffered.

October has a newness. An end to the blaze of summer. An end to the threat of hurricane season. Only two more triathlons. The holidays. Long sleeve weather. Lower power bills. And the opportunity to let wounds heal. Maybe one day I'll look back and laugh. I hope so. But right now, I'm still a bit sore. So I need some newness.

Come On, Irene

2011-08-28T18:30:00.000-05:00

The little hurricane that could: Irene. My friends along the East Coast blogging and tweeting and Facebooking their every waking hour. Mandatory evacuations potentially affecting an area with a population forty million. NYC shutting down its subway. A seas of boarded windows. Obama in some kind of Death Star Control Room, warning people and pretending to devise response situations. Then, she sputters out. Come on, Irene! Only a million folks without power? Winds dropping down to CAT1 level? And yet the media is covering it as if Irene were the Second Coming of Jesus Christ. Every single station and live show with their own footage and their own reports leaning into the wind. Anderson Cooper standing up to his ankles in rapidly draining flood water, calling it "a boring rain." Same thing on every damn channel. You can see the disappointment on their eyes. They needed some carnage and wholesale destruction to distract us from everything else happening these days.

If Irene entered the Gulf Of Mexico, you'd only be able to find detailed information online. And nobody other than The Weather Channel would send a report to cover it. Would anyone honestly care if the Gulf South gets crushed again? But, oh, God forbid, NYC is endangered! And Wall Street might flood? Washing up the corpses of our 401Ks and retirement accounts. Credit Default Swaps and Collateralized Debt Obligations bobbing to the surface. They've been dead a while though. And instantly stink up the thick New York air. Didn't we bury those toxic bastards deep enough? Won't see THAT on the news, though. Just enough East Coast misery to make the West Coast forget it is circling the drainpipe of bankruptcy. Nevermind that we've got Hurricane Double Dip Recession peeking over the horizon. We can't find any of those invisible, bearded, religious ninjas we've spent trillions defending against, so now maybe we'll have to declare a War On Weather! Those terrorist winds hate our freedom. Lightning wants to convert us to sharia law. And hail has declared jihad on our car windshields. So let's pony up about $50B for Irene and see where we can waste some more tax dollars. But keep your eye open for Jesus. Fox polls show their viewer still favor his return. He is coming back to end taxes, raise employment from the dead, and cast Obama's Healthcare Reform down to the Liberal Hell where it was conceived. Can we all join Perry and Bachmann in an AMEN? Amen.

Saturday Night. Non-stop.

2011-08-27T20:47:00.000-05:00

Some days never end. Thankfully, this was an endless Saturday.

Started with a trip to the gym. My first visit in over a week. Back and biceps. Then a long hour in the pool with Meg. That girl is part mermaid. And she never gets tired of me hurling her through the air. I gorilla press her as high as I can manage. Sometimes she has to be 10' up. Always screams on her way down. Making a splash twice her size. I never held my breath that long. Or swam so well. She'd still be swimming twelve hours later if I didn't have her check for Wrinkled Feet. Not sure how much longer that trick will last. But it still works, for now. If her feet are wrinkled, it is a sign from God. And she listens to that!

Ate at Cici's pizza afterwards. Liam always complains when we try to go. Have to say, he's right. It is cheap ($5 for me, $4 for Meg) but not exactly the most diverse selection, aside from the actually pizzas. I was hoping I could avoid the carbs and bulk up on some salad. No such luck. The salad was dull as a slug, didn't even have cheese, and the pasta sauce tasted like a heavily processed canned product. But, Meg did get a balloon and the manager performed a magic trick. She was happy. So I was happy. Her bar isn't raised quite as high as mine. Plus Meg said Cici's brownies were excellent. Still. Might be a while before we go back there.

After a couple of hours of babysitting, I concluded the night with some business-based drinking at The Quarter, in Gulfport. Bunch of issues to sort through. Some critical decisions and clarifications. Interesting stuff abounds. Just have to find the time and energy to make it all happen. But could be some exciting stuff if it lives up to the promise. Great drinks at the Quarter, as always. And a fine fine chicken sammich from next door.

Excellent Saturday night. Even if it was non-stop.

Dog Days

2011-08-26T19:23:00.000-05:00

Home last night. Just before midnight. Entire day wasted on travel. Lunch of peanuts and pretzels high over the prayer field of Texas. Dinner in the form of overly expensive, excessively spicy Chinese fastfood overlooking a runway in Atlanta. But so damn good to be in my own bed. With my old schedule. Up at six with the kids. Jostle them off to school. Early to work. Try and catch up. Meetings. Meetings. Meetings. Practice sessions and writing for my Woodstock tribute next week. New phone rapidly approaching. New storage en route. A quarter million in other hardware juggled over head in the form of paperwork and project plans. More than four hundred emails. Up to my waist in them. Finger numb from hitting delete. Costumes. Schedules. A storm on the horizon. Approaching the grim anniversary of Katrina.

These are the dog days of summer. A time where old hound dogs like me are so hot and tired we sit panting and drooling. Trying to catch our breath. Trying to think our way out of this tarpit of heat and sweat and heavy handed profanity. But thinking gets us nowhere. We have to muster the strength to chase down our meals. Even under the glare of an August sun. It is feast or famine these days. And even if I'm short on sharp teeth, this dog still has some bite left in him.

Leaving Las Vegas

2011-08-25T19:52:00.000-05:00

Las Vegas is too much for this old computer dork. Too much drink. Too much food. Too much skin. Too much looming sin. I really WANT to enjoy myself. But I feel guilty. I don't feel like I deserve such delicious treats. Or extra time in bed. (6AM in Las Vegas is 8AM to my internal clock.) I should keep watching my diet. Spare my liver. Actually commit to some training. But I do none of those. Thus, Las Vegas is one, long, non-stop cheat on every private promise I've made to myself. And the city knows it. Knows I'll cave in. With my wallet. With my waistline. With my every waking moment. Its laughter thrums like all-too-distant cicadas.

I do enjoy one thing: the people. So many names I've only known through email or IM. Meeting them in person is always interesting. Even if I'm older than some of them. Even when they inevitably confess, "I thought you'd have more of an accent." Hey, we do have running water and electric lights in MS, you know? Not all of us sound like Haley Barbour.

How these people resist the temptations of this city is beyond me. Don't they see it? Are they somehow numb to the scope and screams and and shot glasses and chink chink chink of slot machines in every conceivable corner? I'd live paycheck to paycheck. Never go home. Or bother changing clothes. Like some sort of living dead geek. But all these folks are immune. They've built up a tolerance. Me, I'd be an addict if I didn't escape.

I'm ready to be home. Far fewer choices and temptations. Boring food. Boring drink. No sign of skin or sin. I like my life simpler. Less tempting. Nothing to think about. Just slow Southern habits moving in endless gray circles. There's a comfort in my tedium. Maybe I don't have as many options back in the balmy depths of South Mississippi, but I have no guilt, plenty of time to train, and a healthier relationship with my liver!

Narratives Of Las Vegas

2011-08-24T20:31:00.000-05:00

I'm fascinated by the many narratives of Las Vegas. The obscenely vast scale. The unsustainable dreams. Sleek beautiful serpents coyly eating their own tail. All these slow gray dreams crawling across the same space, fighting for too much attention. You may miss them if you blink. And I blink too much.

My breakfast so perfect. And so impossibly cheap. A three egg omlette. Add ham. And tomatoes. And spinach. Almost too light and fluffy. My fork barely finds purchase. While I eat, a gang of 20-something hipsters mix ranks with a gang of silk suited businessmen. The hipster leader in a bright pink Polo shirt. Drinking bourbon at seven thirty in the morning and speaking non-stop French. Four other hipsters at a different table, like children cast aside during Thanksgiving. The adults sitting around Pink Shirt are all in black jackets and short on hair. French for everyone. I'll never know the depth of their story.

Polish off my omlette while watching three awkwardly skinny Asian girls wandering through the lobby. Their dresses too short. Their hair too tussled. Impending hangovers obvious in their step. I'll never know what they were doing while I slept.

On the way to the office, I catch a ride with the only cabbie that knows less about Las Vegas than I do. Pilot Road, I say. Pee low, he said. Pilot, I repeated. Pie lots, he said. End up typing my request into Google Translate on my Blackberry. Technology turning my slow Southern drawl into Arabic. GPS appears to be the same in any language. And off we go.

Thai food for lunch. Ping Pong. Really. That's its name. A dive by Las Vegas standards. Lovely, by mine. Open architecture. Clean lines. Lots of natural light. And just the right amount of spice on the Thai dishes. Good service. Great food. Cheap price tag. Just my style. And speed. But this is Las Vegas and nobody can slow down for very long.

Memorable Day

2011-08-23T20:30:00.000-05:00

Approaching midnight but Las Vegas still sweats through one hundred and three degree temperatures. Thirty five floors below my floor-to-ceiling windows: people are playing golf, a plane lands every three minutes, and there is no end to the traffic on the ever-under-construction streets. This city never catches its breath. It is too big. Lumbering ever forward with too much weight on its spine. Inertia and alcohol and an unfulfilled promise of instant wealth. If you play enough, you're told, eventually you win. Everyone here keeps playing. Waiting for that jackpot to hit. My theory states: you can't lose if you never play.

Four hour meeting at eight this morning. Two hundred and some odd computer geeks gathered under one roof. Won't do the math on the cost. Too many zeros there. Not including the food or coffee or transportation or facilities costs. Lots of cheering. Plans about plans. Implied promises. Requests for continued patience.

Then a financial wizard I admire says the oddest things. The economy is doing well. Concerns over Europe are overblown. The threat of a second recession is mostly empty. Leaving me wondering if I'm living in an odd distopian fantasy or he is. One of us is wrong. But I'm a computer dork and he's a high ranking financial professional. So what are the odds on me winning a debate with him? Hopefully he is right. I'm just not seeing it.

An earthquake outside Washington D.C. today. No, really. The capital shook and was evacuated after a 5.8 quake. Nobody notable injured. My buddy Peter verified he had survived via text. Unfortunately the White House remained intact. And I'm sure Obama will find a way to make this Bush's fault.

Libya has a historic turn as unrelenting rebel forces push Gadhafi out of the Libyan capital of Tripoli. The opposition claiming victory. Loyalists putting up their own resistance. New casts of nothing but gunfire and tracers. More revolution crawling Westward. How long until it comes to our shores?

And a Cat 3 or Cat 4 hurricane dragging along the Eastern seaboard.

All coming together to make it a memorable day.

The Future In Already Here

2011-08-22T08:59:00.003-05:00

In the 90s, William Gibson wrote: "The future is already here, it's just not very evenly distributed." Twenty years later, I'm sitting in a thick swirl of modernity, expensive paranoia, and hyper-connected technology that has transformed today's American airports into a Lucas-esque Creature Cantina.

Bluetooth equipped businessmen dragging their streamlined Mobile Sales Platforms behind them. Public announcements every ninety seconds thanking me for being the airline's "Partner In Security." My fellow Southern rednecks waddling between crowded waiting aisles, praying for an extra-wide seat to magically become available. And at the High Tech Anti-Terrorist Checkpoint, an unarmed micro-army of minimum wage, tattooed Post-Tweeners assure me that the "non-invasive" porn scanners will not record the images, nor share them on Facebook, and my naughty bits are blurred so that they cannot determine scientific width or girth of my naughty bits. But that doesn't make me feel any safer from the invisible religious ninjas they've been protecting me from so effectively for the past decade. Fortunately, my obedience and an extra $25 per bag rewards me with access to a Starbucks, semi-clean bathrooms, and optional $3.95 worth of wireless connections.

So, here I sit. Typing and waiting to launch skyward. This is our new America. The future is already here.

My Own Rome

2011-08-17T22:13:00.002-05:00

I am fortunate. I usually like my job. Pretty high on the ladder. Lots of leash to wander around and do what I need to do. Folks depend on me. Treated fairly. Given responsibility. And respect. Usually that is all good. But bad days at work can be really bad days. Which never seem to end.

Today, for example. There were fires raging through my own Rome. Vendors trying to line things up. People needing support. Departments needing support. I'm getting hit with emails. And phone calls. And tickets. And alarms. And instant messages. All made worse by servers that are puking up their gut, endlessly rebooting, or locking up with a Blue Screen Of Dead.

Ten hour day. Twelve? I dunno. Fixed most of the woe. Fled the scene as quietly as possible. Saw the kids for maybe an hour. Had some left over lasagna. Didn't train. Fighting off odd preludes to a vertigo attack. And generally did nothing productive with my few remaining moments away from the bed.

Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day at work. But if there's fire, I'll be fighting it.

Visiting Meg's Classroom

2011-08-16T21:38:00.030-05:00

Somehow I'm forty and my beautiful little girl is in rocketing into fourth grade. Meg is part dancer, part artist, part actress, part singer, and part athlete. All bundled together into a redheaded atom bomb. I don't think there's anything that can stop or and nothing she cannot do. When I grow up, I want to be like her!

I rushed home from work and ended the day visiting Meg's classroom. She showed us her journal full of drawings, an "All About Meg," poster (complete with big-eyed Molly) and a hand-made 3D rendering of her "perfect meal." And afterwards the entire class went outside to bury their version of a time capsule. (Which they'll unearth at the end of the year.)

She's growing too quick. Exploring so much of the world. Finding stray pieces of reality and completely remodeling them around her. I get caught her gravity sometimes. Waiting to see what she comes up with next. What she'll write or how she'll interpret music into her own modern dance. Life is never dull when Meg is involved. If only she could remake the world for everyone the way she's remade it for me.

On Running

2011-08-15T22:23:00.017-05:00

I don't like running. Cindy likes it less than I do. And today, we ran together.

Run - N - Tri is staring up a new "Couch To 5K" program. Designed to take you from the sofa to a real 5K run in eight weeks.

Today was the first day. About 20 of us showed up for some stretching then 60 seconds of jogging followed by 90 seconds of walking. Rinse and repeat. For twenty or so minutes. Added up to almost a mile and a half.

I hung with Cindy. She did great. We weren't first. But we weren't last. It made for a great sweat and excellent way to end a Monday.

Sunday Cravings

2011-08-14T22:09:00.023-05:00

Trained again this afternoon. Later in the day. Hotter, but more prepared. Far better swim More focus. And energy. Did 1320 meters, without stopping on the far side.

(Quick side note: Bumped into Varnado at the gas station. Hello. Hello. Good to see you. You, too. You've lost weight? Something like that. Okay, bye. Bye!)

Did not WANT to bike. But I biked. Terrible headwind on half of the trip. Like pedaling through syrup. But I found a good pace for myself and nailed it. Came in last yesterday, came in first today. Another small victory for my collection.

Craving protein the rest of the day. Grilled up a chicken breast. Made another spinach & lentil omelet. Easy and exceptionally num.

And thus was my weekend of training and sweating.

Saturday Morning

2011-08-13T22:05:00.000-05:00

Six in the morning. The mind is willing. But the body is weak. Not firing on all cylinders as I hit the water. Too much mental noise. Only three of us swimming. I'm too slow to draft them. Doubts lingering behind my eyes. Fear simmering slowly. Up from my belly. Thinking about everything except swimming. No focus so fear. Just reaching out and dragging myself through the lake, ten thousand times just to make 880 meters.

Follow it up with an equally pitiful ride. Chewed through my inertia by the midway point. Couldn't find the right gear. Or a second wind. Relegated to last place. Of six riders. Couldn't get comfortable or keep up.

Started to cut my ride short. Wanted to throw in the proverbial and meet everyone at the cars. Made the motions, but a hundred feet later told myself not to give up. Just finish it right. Regardless of what place I'm in or how long it takes. Just practice. None of that matters. Just go the distance. And do - not - quit.

So I didn't quit. I turned around again. Back on the course. And eventually, I finished. Not the pace or performance I wanted. But I didn't quit. So I'll chalk it up as another small victory. Need all of them that I can get!

Meg's First Night Away

2011-08-12T23:25:00.003-05:00

Meg's friend had a birthday party. And some twenty 4th grade girls were all invited to spend the night. Meg, however, has never stayed over night anywhere other than with us, or Gigi.

Until tonight!

Cindy and I have both phones turned on. And we've been expecting the call any moment. But it never happened. So it looks like this will be Meg's first night away from home!

The Omlette

2011-08-11T22:11:00.003-05:00

Six in the morning isn't my best time for culinary experiments. But I tried anyway. Sauteed the spinach in a little oil. Beat up an egg. Pour it on top. One lone egg didn't go very far. So I added a second. Then the lintels. Everything turned the right color. Eventually.

Spatula'ed it off the skillet. Paired it up with some sriracha and a protein shake. Little fresh ground pepper. Wanted some sour cream. And a bunch of cheese. But didn't want the risk of affecting my morning workout.

Overall? Not bad. Not the best breakfast I've ever had. But certainly one of the best I've made! I am not too fond of the lentils. They're pretty damn boring. But tomorrow I'll give it another shot. Maybe put the spices on the INSIDE of the omlette. And I'll start off with two severely beaten eggs.

If nothing else, at least I tried something new and fixed it all myself.

What the hell are lentils?

2011-08-10T20:28:00.002-05:00

Trying to make gradual improvements to my eating habits. Read that legumes (ie: beans) are a great source of protein and fiber. Unfortunately the only beans I actually like are pork & beans, or bbq beans. So a bit of research reveals that lentils are not only low in carbs, but they're second only to soy beans in protein. One problem. Not only have I never tried a lentil, but I've never even seen a lentil or attempted to prepare one! But, why let something like inexperience and a fear of new foods stop me?

So I bought some lentils. Plan to make a spinach & lentil omelette in the morning. See how that does. Probably have to spice them up a bit, but at least one day I'll be able to go to glory knowing I tried lentils at least once.

Eating Habits

2011-08-08T21:47:00.027-05:00

Most of my lunches look like this:

Ham or turkey on whole wheat
Small salad
Cup of water
Bonus: tomato soup (if available)
Bonus: grilled/baked chicken (if available)
Bonus: grilled veggies (if available)

Usually, it is just the sandwich and a salad washed down with water. Very boring. Very mundane. Almost to the point of maddening. I look at hand made pizzas every single day. And I want a slice. I look at fried foods every single day. And I want them. I see deserts every single day. And I want TWO! I get my water from a dispenser with almost 10 different sugar-saturated drinks. And I want that, too! All of it is effectively free and endlessly available. I could pick up a whole pizza and take it with me and do it every day.

But I know what it costs me. The price my health pays. I realize if I scarf down that slice of pizza, I have waste a couple of miles of bike work. If I enjoy that double cheeseburger the lunch lady wants to grill for me, I obliterate an hour of swimming. And I could easily drink over a thousand calories worth of Coke in one sitting, if I didn't know the price.

So every day I sacrifice my tastebuds. I turn my back on my palate. I skip the pizza. And I skip the friend mozzarella sticks. But my waistline and my energy levels thank me. Every day.

Tri Training

2011-08-07T22:12:00.009-05:00

Swam at Robinwood Lake. First time in three weeks. And it turned out to be one of my best swims to date! Had it in my head to do a lap (down and back) without stopping. Usually I'll go across, catch my breath, then come back to the start. Today, I did three laps without stopping on the other side. 1320 meters all together. And likely had more to give.

But, we went biking. I was sweating by the time I put my helmet on! Then we did 20 miles. 17.9MPH average. Rained briefly. Sweated a lot. All around great training day.

Now if only I can get my running up to speed!

Sang Soprano

2011-06-28T21:01:00.001-05:00

Driving to the gym. Middle of a thunderstorm. Traffic at a glacial pace. Thirty feet of visibility.And a sun-bright peal of lightning detonates on the other side of my passenger seat. The shockwave bouncing off the door. And my lungs. Ghostly phosphenes fills half the world. Everything layered in white. And I sang soprano during that unexpected instant of pure panic. A teen-age horror show scream. As traffic rolled past, unaware.

I think a stray bolt struck a road-side light pole. Afterwards, my face felt sunburned.

Hours later, my brief brush with lightning still lingers, Like the leftovers from an old slap.

Training Again

2011-06-27T22:36:00.027-05:00

Good to be REALLY training again! Crushed a ride on the bike then did a one mile run. Drenched in sweat. Stoned on adrenaline. 12 days until my next race. The Sunfish in Meridian. Hope to be better on my feet this time. Break the 30min barrier. Or die trying.

At The Lake

2011-06-26T21:36:00.000-05:00

Another Sunday. Another day of training at the lake. Liam behaved himself very well while I swam 1200 meters. (Helped that there was some a Labrador Puppy there, owned by some 13yr old girls splashing in their bikinis!) Really powerful swim for me, too. Found a good pace. Passed a couple of folks. Lots of strength left over, too. Liam loves jumping off the pier, but he really leaps when I'm doing it with him. So we practiced doing cannon balls and one of the other swims (Lisa) snapped photos.

The folks training for longer distances (Half Ironman and beyond) did several more laps. Liam hopped in the rescue kayak to paddle around for a while. Really cool tandem unit. Would love to get one for the family. Maybe once we get some bills paid off. Would crack me up to have them paddling along side me as I train. Something for everyone to enjoy.

We neglected to put on sunscreen, though. Paid a painful price for that. But it was a great time. Hopefully I'll get Meg to join us next time!

MOVIES: X-Men: First Class

2011-06-25T20:55:00.001-05:00

Liam, Bryce (far right,) and I went to see X-Men: First Class after lunch. They loved it, of course. A very good flick for almost-teens. Though there IS an expected (and un-needed!) F Bomb dropped. But only once.

Bear in mind that I grew up reading X-Men comics and I still enjoyed this. It is BASED ON A COMIC, but the acting is fairly good. Plenty of action. Though developing a reasonable plot and background takes times. Could have used a quicker pace in places. But the story developed nicely, without too much divergence from the historical narrative. However I was extremely happy that there were several somewhat effective villains in this one. Not sure if I liked the re-tooling of some of the characters. "Angel" for example had dragonfly wings and could spit some kind of acid. Not sure where Darwin came from. And Havok as a criminal?

Taken on its own, without any knowledge of the original comic series, this was the best one in the series, to date.Fans of the other movies will love it. Fans of the comics ought to like it. And for matinee prices, it was a great way to spend two hours.

Three Bears At Arts Camp

2011-06-24T22:51:00.024-05:00

Cindy, Gigi, and I visited three bears at Arts Camp, tonight. It wa actually the closing ceremonies. A three hour adventure featuring: ballet, gymnastics, singing, jazz, salsa, Zoomba, and multiple interpretations of Goldilocks & The Three Bears. Liam ended up playing Papa Bear. Did a great job. And danced his butt off during most of the other events (except ballet & gymnastics.) We were all proud of him and his performance. Hope he stays that adventurous a few more years.

Meg was at a birthday party. With plans to convert it to a sleepover. Unsurprisingly, we received a call at 10:30P. She wanted to come home. The umbilical didn't stretch quite far enough. But she's home now. And Liam's sleeping like a rock. So a good night for all involved.

Disappointment

2011-06-23T22:44:00.000-05:00

Found the complete results of the Buster Britton Triathlon today. Out of 399 people who finished, I ranked 322nd. That's in the bottom 25%. Not even average. Well below average.

I guess I should be easier on myself. I'm a full time geek. Never competed in any sports in my life. And this is only my first year of trying. But I don't like knowing that everything I did only put me in the bottom quarter of the race. Didn't think I was in the top 10%, but I never thought I was below average...

Been struggling all day. Had a pitiful workout. Back and biceps. Then an even worse performance on the bike. Not into it at all. Feel nothing but personal disappointment. And an overwhelming sense of defeat. Training so hard to do so poorly?

Have to improve my perspective. I did beat 77 other people. And three fat guys in my age division! I've got that going for me. If I improve my running game and keep making improvements on my swimming, I should climb up through the ranks. Four more races this season. I plan to do better with each one. But for now, it hurts. And I'm having a hard time getting past it. For now.

Yawn

2011-06-22T21:23:00.018-05:00

Up at oh four forty five this morning for some upgrades at the office. Fortunately I had staged much of the work ahead of time. And nothing went sideways. Just eleven hours of expected drudgery and excessive CYA. Much yawn.

Training again this week. Chest and triceps yesterday, then an hour on the bike. Shoulders and legs this morning. Only two and a half weeks until my next event. Want to focus on my running. Get THAT time to less than thirty minutes. Much yawn there, too.

Feeling good. But making it an early night. Perchance to dream.

Mine Mine Mine

2011-06-21T22:49:00.011-05:00

Proof arrived today. I own my car! Six years of payments. No major problems or complaints. Mine mine mine.

Cindy already owns hers.

And there's the Beetle. For now.

Feels good to have one less debt burden. Need to keep it this way.

Even the clown

2011-06-20T13:55:00.007-05:00

Cindy worked all day. So I dropped the kids off at "arts camp," and picked them up after work. Surprised them by heading over to Buffalo Wild Wings, for some wings and things. Had a clown making balloon animals. Kids didn't think he was a clown since he didn't wear makeup. I said some people are clowns even without it.

Meg had a white swan. Liam had a green parrot he wore on his shoulder. I had two pints of cold cold Woodchuck. Everyone was happy! Even the clown.

Fathers Day 2011

2011-06-19T20:32:00.019-05:00

When you're as fortunate as I am, every day is Fathers Day. The kids had cards and smiles for me. Then off to church with everyone, where Liam was Acolyte for the day.

Pastor Andy asked, "What did Your Father teach you?"

Meg said, "Happiness." Liam said, "Chicks dig scars."

Am I good, or what?

Afterward, we visited Cindy's Dad. Then I took Liam to Robinwood Lake so I could train in open water. He didn't think he'd like it. He was wrong. He loved it! We actually hung out more than I trained. Checking out the minnows. Tricking them into chasing little pebbles. Jumping off the pier. Doing cannon balls. Had a great time. And he wanted to stay longer than I did!

A very quiet, peaceful, restorative weekend. Just what I needed.

Day Trip

2011-06-14T20:40:00.029-05:00

Resolved an unfinished project in Tunica, MS, today. A brief day trip. On the corporate jet! A Lear 40, that seats six and can hit Mach 8, if needed. Driving would have taken six hours. On the Lear, forty six minutes. And none of that unpleasant check-in / check-out, body frisking business associated with commercial flight. Only way to fly! (NOTE: I cleverly disguised my boss in the photo.)

The project wrapped up nicely. We had a delicious lunch to celebrate. On the way home, Warren (bald guy in front of me) gets a call that one of our competitors is having a major malfunction with their gaming floor that just re-opened. Brand new technology. A complete failure for them. To the tune of millions of dollars if it is as bad as it looks. Warren laughs and says, "That's what we get for depending on geeks." Warren is old school, from Atlantic City. He grew up without instant access to a player's financial data and had to make decisions based on gut feelings and established relationships. "The Good Old Days," Warren calls them. Otherwise, the trip was quick and uneventful. Home by dinner time. And I will sleep better tonight.

Caught Up With Me

2011-06-13T22:10:00.000-05:00

My efforts this past weekend final caught up with me. Terribly sore. Especially my quads. And unusually tired. Certainly won't be able to train today. My plan is to get more rest and just recover this week. Shoulder was acting up for a while, too. Probably over did a workout.

Need to work on my running game. But I'm glad to know all those hills only added five minutes to my 5K time.I just loathe running. Soooo boring.

But I'm getting better and seeing constant improvement. My swimming game is much better. Biking is great. Just have to refocus on the running portion. That's AFTER all this soreness is gone!

Lunch And Racing Fuel

2011-06-12T21:21:00.016-05:00

Driving home after my triathlon yesterday. An hour south west of Tuscaloosa and I pull off to refuel the car and my belly as a small gas station / grocery. Grabbing a bite at Subway, inside the store, when I noticed the oddest stack of cans I've ever seen. Had to look three times. Thought is was a joke, actually. Like cigarette-shaped candy for kids. But it was real. Miniature barrels of racing fuel, conveniently located next to the potato chips!

So you could pick up a pecan log, some pork rinds, and a half tank of jet fuel for the dragster on your way to the track. Only in The South...

Buster Britton Triathlon 2011

2011-06-11T21:42:00.074-05:00

Seven in the morning. Five hours from home. Nestled in a quiet valley amid the green peaks of Oak Mountain State Park. Surrounded by four hundred other eager competitors. The 25th Annual Buster Britton Triathlon. A minimalist transition setup. Just the bare essentials. Trying to keep it simple, quick, and clean.

The swim was great. One of my best performances. Was shooting for ten minutes. Did it in 9:32. Could have done it quicker, but I made the mistake of following somebody who went off course! Wasted a good thirty seconds to get back on track. However, I was really pleased with my performance in the water. Training in the lake at home made a huge difference.

Transitioned to the bike and hoped to do the ride in 42 minutes. Did I mention it was held in Oak MOUNTAIN State Park? MOUNTAINS being the critical part of the name. The hills CLOBBERED me at two points, and my computer showed I was down to 5MPH. Of course on the downhill, I hit 32MPH, which was a new personal record. Eventually, I made the trip in 45:11.

And then, the run. (Did I mention mountains? And do recall that I live in the flatlands of Coastal Mississippi.) My last triathlon run time was 39 minutes. I was only hoping to beat that. But the hills at Buster Britton were brrrrrrutal on me. I pushed through it. And ended up doing the run in 34:05. For me, a great time!

Was shooting for a total race time of 1:30:00. With transitions and all, I made it in 1:35:05. For my division I finished 29th out of 32 men. Meaning the old computer dork beat three old fat guys.

Next time, I'll bring the wife and kids. They'd LOVE the park. And then I'd have somebody ELSE to drive me home. For my 2nd actual event, I think I did pretty well. I finished. And that was enough for me!

Pre-Game in Pelham, AL

2011-06-10T18:31:00.000-05:00

After an excessively dull drive, five hours from home, I find myself at the pre-game show in Pelham, AL. Pick up my race pack. Listen to the Q&A. Bunch of other beginners. We're all eager and bright eyed. Amazingly, I'm #400. And the lake is akin to a warm bath.

I walk the transition area, getting my bearings. Go over the process in my mind. Try to take notes of directions and the likely flow of contestants. Eventually drive along the bike course. Getting a taste for the hills and where I'll need to shift to easier gears. And then the rain comes. Ending the research.

My hotel is nearby. Cell signal is shit inside the valley. I'll grab a light dinner, chicken and salad. Then pack and try to sleep. Even though I know I won't.

FOOD: Noodles, Biloxi, MS

2011-06-09T13:46:00.041-05:00

Noodles, in Biloxi, MS, opened today. I was expecting a place called "Noodles" to be something akin to the noodle shops we had in Atlanta, like The Real Chow Baby or Doc Chey's Noodle House. Nice location. Nice decor. Interesting feel to the place. Lots of potential!

We must have missed the grand opening lunch rush. Nobody else there when we arrived at nearly 1PM. Only one lone waitress. And a bartender.

Then one look at the menu told me I was going to be disappointed. None of the "lunch specials" even had noodles on them!

Turns out that Noodles isn't a noodle shop. It is just a Chinese restaurant with a bar. Not a "fusion" place. No touches of Southern style on traditional Asian themes. Nothing remotely inspired or unique. And as far as I could tell, very few noodle dishes!

I had the spicy beef. With a cup of hot & sour soup. The soup was the best part of the meal. The rest was just average. The same thing I could get at any Chinese place or buffet.

I really wanted Noodles to be something special. An interesting place in Biloxi where I could take my friends and say, "Check this out! Isn't this cool!" But there's nothing cool about Noodles. And I doubt I'll ever return.

There really is nothing remotely appealing about another Chinese menu serving the same dishes the same way as everyone else. I'd pay less and have a bigger choice at a buffet.