Friday, March 30, 2007

Going, going ...

Gorgeous day. Too bad I almost spoiled it by oversleeping. Got the boys to school on time, but ran behind almost all day for a bunch of reasons. Anyway, the snow is melting quickly. Seems faster than usual, but at this rate, it'll all be gone next week.

The stepdaughter needed a ride to town to catch a bus to New York; her last weekend of fun before basic training. So instead of running after I dropped the boys off, I came right home. Ack. She wasn't anywhere near ready, missing her bus. So I went for a hill run around the house. Ouch. Whine. Hurt.

Everyone had their maple buckets hanging, though, which was nice. I'm a big fan of homemade maple, as long as it doesn't involve a kitchen that's perpetually sticky. Which means I'm a big fan of homemade maple, as long as it's not boiled down in my house. And at 40 gallons of sap per 1 gallon of maple syrup, that's a lot of stickiness.

Eventually got the stepdaughter to the bus station, ran by the grocery, and then down to Main Street to drop our mountain bike off at the shop for its annual tuneup. Tim, the owner, gave me some advice on the kind of bike I need to be looking at. Mountain bikes get uncomfortable pretty quickly, but then again, so does sleeping under a bridge after paying several hundred for a new one. But I suspect I'll have to break down sooner or later.

Anyway, Tim said there used to be a triathlon from town all the way to our little mountain. The company that sponsored it pulled out quite some time ago, but it involved a river swim, then a bike ride past our house to the mountain, finished with a mountain run. Tim said it was so hilly that grown triathletes wept during the run.

Hmmmmm. Anyway, I picked up a new helmet and pair of gloves. Ran by the eye doctor's on the way out to set an April appointment for John (needs new glasses or contacts).

Came back to the house, ate a quick lunch, put a marinated brisket in the crockpot, and did some of the day job. Ran out to the gym mid-afternoon for a 13.2-mile bike ride and a 3/4-mile swim. For whatever reason, the gym was crowded. Sigh. And they're going to be repainting the pool, so it'll be closed for two weeks. Double sigh.

TGIF.

Thursday, March 29, 2007

Procrastination and Outrage

I ran downstairs this morning to get my clean running, biking and swimming clothes from the dryer.

Except they weren't in the dryer. They were still in the washer.

Duh.

Still managed to catch the bus a few miles down the road, and started busting my butt so I could get off a couple hours early tonight for a quick workout.

Didn't quite work out that way. I went to the gym around 3p, but Lisa needed the car around 4:30p, so I just biked. I'll wrap up tomorrow (I hope) and take Saturday as a rest day.

Outrages, we got outrages:

'Income Gap is Widening, Study Shows,' New York Times

'Circuit City Cuts 3,400 'Overpaid' Workers,' Washington Post

And here's the money quote from the last link:

"I'm ticked off that they can just come at you from one day to another, no warning, and oh, you're gone," he said. "I dedicated seven years to them. Loyalty gets you nothing."

Shares closed yesterday at $19.23, up 31 cents, or 2 percent.

A long, long, long time ago, when I was in graduate business school, we used to have an analytical phrase for that sort of reaction. The technical term was, "No shit?"

This would be an outrage, but it's not. It's satire, but barely. Here's the source:

'These Kids Never Say 'Yech,' ' New York Times

and here's Gawker's take on it:

'These Kids Make Us Say 'Yech'

Funny stuff.

Had one of those nice little grace moments on the way back from the gym. Saw John walking down the drivway as I was driving up. Asked him where he was going.

"Nothing to do inside," he grumped. "Going for a walk."

Which is kind of neat. He's got game consoles, a high-speed internet connection, satellite television, a room full of books ... and he's out enjoying one of the first sunny, warm days of spring.

(Of course, he walked to the town library. But he didn't stay long).

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Periodic Table of Dessert


I just really, really liked this.

Something Must Be Off

Got up a little late this morning, but still made it to the bus stop with a few seconds to spare. My run felt a little choppy, but I made 4.2 miles, checked the Garmin, and had my first pleasant suprise of the day: I was doing 8:50 miles.

It's not exactly a world-beater of a run -- considering that seven years ago, I was routinely doing 7:50 miles -- but it's a hell of an improvement over the 9:45 miles I was doing last year.

Drove to the gym and stocked up on magazines (this week's New Yorker, so-so; Sports Illustrated, eh; Cooking Light, awesome). Strapped on the heart monitor, jumped on the bike and set the program for "Fat Burn" mode.

Because I am, after all, fat.

Also wussed on the rate, setting it at 110. Theoretically, I'm supposed to be going around 140-150, but (a) I thought I'd do a long-ish ride, and (b) I don't trust that monitor.

After an hour, I figured out I really don't trust that machine. It showed 21.7 miles, which pretty much shatters my routine 12 miles in an hour.

I don't think I'm moving so slowly that I'm going 12 mph. But I also don't think I'm shooting along at 21.7 mph. Considering Lance Armstrong's fastest Tour de France average speed was 25.5 mph in 1999. Yeah, I know, that includes a lot of hills, and the flatter time trials usually run about 31 mph. But still ...

Reality check. Time to get the old bike fixed and hit some hills.

Not a great diet day. I'll do a sprint tri tomorrow.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Signs of the Season

No out-of-state license plates this morning. Another sign of spring.

The boys were awake early this morning, so we made the bus in plenty of time. Had a talk with John -- one day after shelling out nearly $300 for a new pair of glasses for Will, it turns out he'd lost his pair of glasses, too. Good news is he wants contacts. I'm trying to work out a deal with him to get a haircut, but I don't think he'll bite on that one.

I'd woken up feeling fat this morning. And technically speaking, I am still fat. My BMI is 25.1, just a hair overweight. Argh.

Anyway, I ran my 5K, averaging 8:57 per mile. Jumped in the car, drove to the gym, and did a rather slow 13.2 mile bike ride. Read a decent organic gardening book and a heart monitor training guide. Some of the heart monitor ideas may finally be sinking in, but it's a slow, hard slog.

Because I am fat -- and the federal government should know fat quite well when it sees it -- I decided to do a quick half-mile in the pool. It was nice. A few people sat in the hot tub, but no one came near the churning, drowning fool on the far side of the pool.

Picked up my mail and had goodies galore -- an Amazon shipment with Handy Farm Devices and Storey's Basic Country Living. Hooray! Also had my grain mill from Lehman's. Hoorah! The grain mill is an impressive piece of work, all metal and heavy. Can't wait to clean the packing grease and try it out on some hard winter wheat berries. And I got my seeds from Burpee. Huzzah! Two types of corn, giant sunflowers, Brandywine tomatoes, onions, carrots, cilantro, sage and thyme. They'll send the potato seeds, strawberry and blueberry bushes separately.

Also got some triathlon porn: The TriSports.com annual catalog.

I'd better find some extra income quickly.

Went to the internet cafe and started an upload to work, but had to take a break and take Will's gym shorts up to his school. En route back, I stopped by a local smokehouse and picked up some good stuff: pepper bacon, summer venison and jalapeno cheese sausage, and local salsa. Can't wait to try any/all of it, but hoping I don't get carried away.

Spent much of the afternoon working like a Roman orchard slave, but got quite a bit done and now may stand slight chance of being caught up by week's end. Stuffed belle mer salmon and giant salad for dinner. Treated myself to 3oz of Monterey Jack cheese for dessert. An odd dietary day: Less than half from carbs, but still more protein than fat. Hmmmmmmmmmm. I'm guessing this is my cheap excuse to get into the bread again tomorrow.

Can't wait for the weekend. Must plant seeds, assemble chicken brooder, catch up on laundry and cleaning, grind wheat, bake bread, take bike into city for tuneup and run/bike/swim.

Monday, March 26, 2007

Mud Season Redux

At least the sun is shining here. At my house, not so much.

Because I'm trying to pretend real hard that no one will ever be able to figure out where I live and move here, mucking things up further, I've stripped the credit line off the picture. But it's a super photo that comes from a really great local magazine, and if you want the name, I'm glad to email it to you.

Mud Season

Woke up at the usual time and looked outside.

Mud. And plenty of it.

It's an annual phenomenon: A gorgeous summer with highs in the 70s and 80s, nights in the 50s and 60s. Like most summers, it lasts a long time.

Next, fall. The colors just explode. It's beyond gorgeous.

Winter, and snow, generally right around Christmas week. Then ass-biting cold, and more snow. Things get very quiet. Then a brief thaw, and more snow. Then a longer thaw.

Finally, spring. Rains, and more rains. And mud season.

I plopped my head back on the pillow and prevailed upon Lisa to take John to catch the bus. Gave Will a break, since he had an opthalmologists' appointment at 11a for new glasses.

And then I went back to sleep.

Woke up for good around 9a. I've been waking up vaguely stiff and a little sore every morning lately, but in a good way. Took a shower, then started a program running for some work at the day job. Figured it'd take about three or four hours. Took Will for his appointment. Took him to school, stopped by the guidance counselor's office to discuss John's sophomore schedule.

Stopped by the farm stand on the way home and grabbed a muffin, banana, new potatoes and a couple of limes. Should've invested in cooking apples (10-pound bags for $1/pound), but figured out that I'd need an apple peeler/corer ($19.95).

Got home, and the program was still running. Futzed around with some administrivia until 5:30p and figured it was likely to run another three hours. So I headed to the gym to atone for my miserable morning performance.

I swam a mile. Not to put too fine a point on it, but I was stoked. Haven't swum a mile in, hmmmmmmm, about 30 years. I'll cop to doing a sidestroke for the vast majority of it, and I was slow, and kind of suffering near the end, but hey! it was a mile!

Anyway, I am very pleased with myself.

Even if it is mud season.

Sunday, March 25, 2007

Snow in the Spruces

Nice morning.

It snowed three or four inches overnight, so there was a bunch of snow clumped in the spruces. Didn't last long -- it got up to 50 or so. Went running around 4p. Did 8.5 miles in an hour, 15 minutes.

For those of us keeping score (i.e., me), that would be less than 9 minutes per mile.

I was feeling a bit stiff, so I went to the gym and swam 0.25 miles. Did another five freestyle laps. I'll feel better when I get more extension from my torso.

Got ready to leave the gym, and some little shit had swiped my car key from my unlocked locker. So I had to hoof it down to the bank -- two miles -- and call the taxi service. Had a good chat with the driver, got the spare key from the house, and picked up the car.

All told, about 1,300 calories worth of exercise. Not a bad day, all things considered.

Good Stuff

Busy Saturday.

Dropped Lisa off at weaving class and went to the Agway for chicken and rabbit supplies -- feeders, infrared lamp, timothy hay, bedding, and a few other odds and ends. Went directly to the gym, where miracle of miracles, the pool was empty. I swam about half a mile, and then six kids jumped in. Still, did another quarter mile to push it up to .75 of a mile. Hoping to make a full mile in the next month or so. My form is fair for the first quarter mile, but deteriorates pretty quickly after that. I need a coach. Bad.

Got out of the pool and onto the exercise bike. Finished reading Ladies and Gentlemen, The Bronx Is Burning, about New York in the 1970s. Eh. Did 17.5 miles, a pretty decent amount. Wore my heart monitor. Rate stayed around 105 nearly the entire ride while going about 12 mph. When I jacked it up to 15, 16 mph, the rate got up to 150, which is still just barely 75 percent of maximum heart rate. So maybe I'm not working out hard enough ... I need to go back through and read my heart monitor training book very closely.

Drove out to pick Lisa up, and went past Matt's sugarhouse. It was warming up, around the 40s, so his chimney was smoking and his jugs were out. Picked up a half-gallon for $26. His wife poured it fresh from the holding tank. Been a rough winter for the maple folks, with the warm weather prevailing until mid-January or so. Matt said he made about 100 gallons this year. In an average year, he'll make about 500 gallons.

Cooked a bunch when I got home -- homemade mac and cheese with sausage, and twice-baked potatoes with salmon and cheese stuffing. Really good stuff. Not such a great day on the veggie front, but I think another few days of 1,000+ calorie exercise, and I may drop a pound. Yikes.

Started to snow later in the night. Forecast called for two to four inches. It'll be nice if it happens -- the wet kind that sticks to the spruces for a little bit.

Smart web story of the week (which means I was going to do it, but just hadn't had time to get there). Review of Bill McKibben's new book:

http://www.salon.com/books/int/2007/03/23/mckibben/

Friday, March 23, 2007

TGIF

Easy workouts today.

Swam 0.25 miles in a mostly vacant pool, but did it fairly quickly. Took a couple of laps to work on a real, live freestyle. I wanted to do a bit more, but the stroke people were starting to warm up. Eh. They need the water worse than I did. Maybe it'll motivate me to get my lazy butt up in the morning and beat everyone into the pool.

Did another 13.2 on the gym bike. Increased my speed, going about 13.5 mph now, but didn't push too hard -- my heart rate stayed about 115, which seemed low. Don't think I'll ever get up to 32.9 mph, but I wouldn't mind speeding up another third or so.

(Like that'll happen. But I can push a lot harder ... I'd be soooo happy to get to 20mph.)

Got a bunch of cool books from Amazon today. Reading Super Natural Cooking and The Big Book of Self-Reliant Living. I'll do a long bike ride tomorrow and look through them.

Only in Our Town:

I went to the local internet cafe (which we have for at least one more month; the owner is moving to Vail to hang with her boyfriend). Because I live in the sticks, we just have satellite internet. I had some big files to download, and the satellite internet company sends me nasty notes when I do that.

Turns out that the cafe's door swung open in the night. When Celeste showed up, she found evidence that there had been an intruder. Who had left a note on the door. Letting her know that the door had swung open in the night. And then had been closed.

Nothing taken, and Celeste hadn't even left the heat on.

Again, only in Our Town.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

Good Karma, Bad Car-ma

The surviving Saab gave up the ghost today, expiring with a mechanical sigh on the main road while I was on my way to the gym. It died with some dignity, coasting into a parking space at the mechanic's -- but it still died.

This is not very good. I had to have the stepdaughter's car towed, so the mechanic could fix it, as well. Presumably, it's fixable, but the Saab is dead.

My next vehicle will almost certainly be a small truck.

But speaking of small trucks, I now have two teen-agers in the house. Will, who is growing into a rather large truck, turned 13 today. I can't decide if it feels like he's been around longer than 13 years or less than 13 years. But I'm happy he's around. And he was happy with his "free stuff," as he put it.

About 3:30p, I called to check on the car -- they hadn't had a chance to look at it. Since it was somewhat driveable (a clutch problem that has yet to significantly assert itself and a dead mouse in the heater), I did my second run of the day.

I'd done 3.1 miles after dropping the boys off for school and really wasn't in the mood, but pulled off the 4.8-miler to the mechanic's. Stopped and got a new bicycle pump at the hardware store, since our one trail bike has a flat, and grabbed some ice cream for Will's dessert.

Really, I'm trapped between outrages today. On one hand, there's this, from the American College of Plastic Surgeons.

I'm sure that burn victims, trauma patients and people who have breast cancer can benefit from plastic surgery. No doubt. But I don't think 329,000 cancer patients are getting boob jobs. It just seems a bit ... don't know, is "superficial" the word I'm trying to get?

And here's the second outrage du jour. At least, I think it might be an outrage. Or it might just be more proof that God has a supremely developed sense of irony. One of the few people in the 2008 presidential race who hasn't been divorced and who's gone through some pretty heavy-duty trauma -- hey, guess what? Things ain't getting easier for you! Enjoy that campaign trail!

Finally, this just pisses me off. I may go kill a goose, slowly, just in protest. Three words for these people: Get. A. Life. If we overfed baby koalas and roasted them alive, that might be one thing. But we're talking foie gras here. Goose liver. And Chef Puck's quote is just a little, um, suspicious:

"People coming here once a week with signs has nothing to do with my decision," he told the Los Angeles Times. "The protest didn't affect me at all."

What-ever.

On the calorie front, I figured my two runs today gave me the equivalent of a Hardee's Monster Burger. But I'll probably forego that particular delight in favor of some of Will's ice cream.

Hope he's as much fun as a teen as he's been as a young boy.

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Waiting on Spring

We are fairly happy this morning.

I made it to the bus stop with 30 seconds to spare. I ran 4 miles. I biked 13.2 miles. I swam 0.5 miles. And -- drum roll, please -- I lifted some JavaScript from the Buckeye Outdoors web site that lets me track my calories.

It's very cool, if somewhat ominous. I would have guessed my morning meal would've been maybe 600-700 calories. Um, not so much. Try about 1,340, fat man.

But this is good. I'm not fooling myself.

Did a little bit of day work, then went out this afternoon to shop for Will's birthday. Picked up laundry, got a few groceries, got my new contact lenses, picked up some gardening supplies, had my hair cut and dropped off aluminum cans at the recycling center (at $.05 per can and a large winter supply of empties, the deposits added up to an embarassing $49). Called school about John's schedule next year. He really wants to take a mythology class, so I'm hoping he can get into it.

I wish spring would get here. It hasn't been a brutal winter, not at all, and I'll miss the snow on the spruces, the really clear starry skies, the occasional aurora blinking far away, and the color of the sky right before a big nor'easter.

On the other hand, I really want to play in the garden and feel the sun. And raise chickens. And grow things. And start real, live bicycling, and swim in the reservoir. And sit outside and read/work in my hammock.

Maybe one more month.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Enjoying It While It Lasts

Tipping Point

If only whining were an Olympic sport.

Woke up a little before 6a and spent a good 15 minutes trying to justify why I should just run this morning. I was doing a pretty good job of it, too. Problem was, after I got dressed for running, it just seemed like a waste to not do any more. So I threw my swim things in the bag. And my bike things, since you can never tell if there's going to be a 4-year-old's birthday party at the gym.

Did my 5K. I'd zoned out and forgotten to charge the Garmin, but it felt a little faster this morning, even with a stiff breeze in my face most of the way. My iPod display has been screwed for a couple of days, though. I think it got cold.

Scooted down to the gym and did a little better than a half-mile swim. I know -- I was going to go long, but Lisa needed the car early for weaving class. Given that I was wearing an extremely nice hand-knitted wool sweater that took about 200 hours for her to make (Christmas present and quite possibly my favorite garment these days), it might've been a little counterproductive to complain.

Sweater and I returned in time for Lisa's class. Spent much of the day catching up on scutwork and looking out the window. Today's the proverbial tipping point -- days are going to get longer now. You can feel the trees stretching.

Diet was OK today:

Pre-workout breakfast: Strawberry vanilla yogurt bar
Breakfast: Apple cinnamon granola with skim, blueberries, strawberries
Blueberry kefir
1 c cooked plain pasta
Lunch: One-pot pasta with vegetables
Afternoon snack: 1 c carrots
Bread. Butter.
Dinner: Broiled King salmon
8 c salad

Great food site: 101cookbooks.com

Great training site where I've, um, liberated some JavaScript from: breakingthetape.com

Tempted to make more bread this week. Ordered my new grain mill and everything. But I know what that leads to ...

Monday, March 19, 2007

The Incompleat Consumer

So while I was running Sunday, my mind got to wandering ...

It seems to me that there were four major religions in the last place I lived: Protestants. Jews. Muslims. And Consumers.

This was more than a minor irritant for me. It wasn't just that they got all the good parking spots. It just seemed ... wrong.

It's much better where I live now. After a day like Friday, though, I still feel like such a freakin' consumer. So I made myself feel a little better today by hitting up the seed catalog.

Veggies: Corn, tomato, potato, onion, carrot seeds
Fruits: Blueberry, strawberry bushes
Herbs: Thyme, sage, cilantro
Flowers: Mammoth sunflowers

And I called in a tree strike: two apples, two peaches, and, for joining the Arbor Day Foundation, got 10 more mixed trees -- maple, birch, oak, spruce.

Also called the hatchery and got my chick order changed. I'm now getting 25 New Hampshire Reds and 25 Arucanas. I'd ordered 25 "assorted rainbow layers," but figured I'd be better off with Arucanas in a cold-weather climate.

This means I'll probably feel better in two or three years. Might even get to the point where I produce enough to not feel like the Compleat Consumer.

On the training front, I swam 0.5 miles today. Meant to do more, but I was at 60 laps when the stroke people took over the pool. I don't mean the stroke people, like the people who might be able to help me out; I mean the cerebral event survivor people. Anyway, I didn't want to take up a length of the pool, since it's not divided into lanes, so I got out about 0.25 miles early.

(Really. I've got a few relatives who have had strokes.)

Diet didn't go too bad, although I should have an implant that delivers a near-lethal shock every time I get near the bread. The menu follows:

Pre-swim breakfast: 1 slice bread
1 tbsp peanut butter
Breakfast: 1 bowl granola with skim, blueberries, strawberries
Kefir
Morning snack: Bread. Butter.
Lunch: One-pot pasta
Bread. Butter.
Afternoon snack: 1 c carrots
1 c grapes
Bread. Butter.
Dinner: Jalapeno buffalo chili
Bread. Butter.

See a pattern here?

I'm going long tomorrow morning. And I ain't stopping for bread. Or butter.

Sunday, March 18, 2007

I Like Children ... Probably Just Not Yours

A tough weekend.

I slept late Saturday and headed over to the gym for some swimming. No such luck. Pool was packed full of kids and parents. Made sense to me -- there's a mountain right across the freakin' street with ski lifts and a foot-and-a-half of fresh powder, and you drive 250 miles with children to go swimming.

Spent an hour working off frustration on the elliptical trainer, burned 910 calories. Got home, and my wife and I headed out on a semi-retail binge. John had done major snow shovel work and asked if it was worth the purchase of "God of War 2." Eh, why not. He was amusing me, to boot. Accused Robin of having a blonde moment. Robin, who is not blonde, was giving John, who is blonde, a hard time about it. He turned to me for help. I shrugged.

"People who live in glass houses ..."

"Should be able to afford to throw rocks," he finished.

He gets God of War 2 for that alone. I had tried to grind some wheat berries for bread earlier, and the kitchen stand mixer had gone nuts on me, so I thought I'd run by Bed, Bath and Beyond as well and see if they had a hand-crank grain mixer. I had to go to a sporting goods store and get some bike pants and a nose clip for swimming. Finally, wanted to go by the bookstore and add to the garden library.

Got everything done (except finding the grain mixer) and was back at home, in bed, by 11 a.m.

Woke up early this morning, took the spouse to her weaving class up the road. Stopped on the way back and looked at the snow, falling very gently, and figured: What the hell. Might be the last time this year I get to run in snow this pretty. Did seven miles. It felt slow, but I checked the Garmin, and it told me I'd been running a 9:15/mile pace. Very odd.

I was pretty beat because I skipped breakfast, but had to go swimming. So I puttered down to the gym, where a birthday party with 17 4-year-olds had just taken occupancy. Grrrrrr. At least they were local. Rode the bike for 13.2 miles. My timing sucked because I hadn't eaten. Went home and started some cooking, but had to go pick up my spouse. Sigh. Got back home around 5p and we started the food:

*** 8 tupperware containers of ziti
*** 3 containers of buffalo jalapeno chili
*** 4 loaves of whole wheat/white bread
*** 1 big bowl of rice (John was in a bland mood).

Wrapped up the cooking/cleaning around 9p. I'd been out a good chunk of the day without sunglasses, so I had a blinding headache all night.

All things considered, I got a lot done this weekend. But my diet more or less sucked out loud, especially today. I've got to eat a little bit before morning workouts and more after them. And do more vegetables.

Here's hoping for a better next week. I'm hitting the pool early tomorrow.

Friday, March 16, 2007

I Know How Ray Liotta Felt

... in about the last third of "Goodfellas," when he's being chased by helicopters while trying to run errands. Happened to me today.

Overslept a bit. By the time I got up, John was ailing. Said he fell down the stairs, hurt his head and threw up. Asked him if it had anything to do with the school dance scheduled for tonight. He said no. Told him we were expecting 30 inches of snow today. He said he thought he'd feel better if he could lie down for a few hours. I let him stay home.

Got Will dressed for '60s Day -- a tie-dye shirt with a "Keep Austin Weird" logo, headband and sandals. He spent a little bit of time admiring the effect while saying "Peace, Love, Dope!" We missed the bus, of course, so I had to drive him to school.

Made it to the gym around 8:15a. Had ambitions of doing a long bike and long swim, but, eh, I was still a bit worried about John. Did 17.1 miles on the bike while reading "Guns, Germs and Steel" and catching up on old podcasts. Showered and ran home to check in on John.

Since my external hard drive had crashed yesterday, I had to drive 45 miles to the nearest Best Buy to get a new one. And be back, hopefully before the snow flew. (The fact that it was my 16th wedding anniversary had nothing to do with this.) So I got moving down the interstate.

Dropped off the hard drive for a tech to look at and used the opportunity to hit Trader Joe's, Whole Foods and Barnes & Noble. I would've hit up EMS, but just ran out of time. Anyway, got some whole grains, a couple of pounds of crawfish, buffalo stew meat, chili-lime peanuts and flowers at the groceries. Picked up three pretty good books -- one on raising chickens by Storey Publishing, a local house that's in a nearby town where I used to teach college; Total Immersion, to improve my swimming; and The $64 Tomato.

Traffic was horrible on the way back to the interstate. Some moron forgot that ice forms faster over bridges than elsewhere and had come close to going for an unscheduled swim. As bad as that was -- and it was a six-mile traffic jam -- the interstate was worse.

Imagine, if you will, taking 50,000 people from the New York metro area. Force them into a weeklong crack binge. Blind them. Remove their brain stems. Then put them in an SUV and point them in my general direction.

I made it back to town without severe injury to anything other than my blood pressure. Snow was coming down, about an inch every hour, and I still hadn't found anyone to pick up our route. Given that we have a 600-foot driveway, the issue deserved a bit of attention.

Stopped by one of the local groceries for staples -- Diet Coke, French fries, milk, cereal, etc. Ran by the dry cleaners to drop off some shirts. Scooted into the hardware store for lamp oil and extra wicks, for when the power went off. Also grabbed some finch food and a new shower head for John and Will's bathroom. Got more fish oil at the GNC. Made it back home in one piece.

Where, of course, I figured out I'd forgotten the toilet paper. Damn.

Got back in car, drove to closer local grocery. Darwin seemed to be at work -- the roads were more or less clear of idiots, if not of snow. We had about six inches by now. I don't have four wheel drive, and only have snow tires on two (front) wheels. A pin fell out of the driver's side windshield wiper on the way back, and the wiper impaled itself in a chunk of snow on the hood like a javelin. Still made it home without incident. New plow guy called and will take care of us.

Diet du jour:

Breakfast: Strawberry vanilla granola bar
Apple
Banana
Morning snack: Starbucks venti mocha (skim, no whipped cream)
1/2 c peanuts
Lunch: 8oz dried beef nuggets
1/2 c peanuts
Dinner: Red beans and rice

Crappy job with the veggies, I know.

Still, a better day than most this week, if for no other reason that I seem to have avoided a whole raft of potential calamities (can almost hear the irony gods sharpening thunderbolts in their shop now). Assuming plow guy makes it, I'll go for a long swim in the morning, and possibly a long-ish run.

But not a long drive.

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Getting Carried Away

Possibly. Or possibly, keeping a continued (if tenuous) hold on my sanity.

Another horrible professional, familial and existential day yesterday that's just too horrible to blog about. I ran my 5K and didn't have time for anything else. Managed to more or less keep from giving into my worst dietary impulses.

Breakfast: 1 Nature Valley vanilla yogurt granola bar
Lunch: Omelet with habanero cheese
2 slices toast
Snack: 1 c dried apples
Dinner: Low-carb bagel with light cream cheese

Slightly better day so far today. The boys continue to amaze and please by waking up early, in time for breakfast and decent conversation. (It's just dad who's a tad on the slow side.) Dropped them off at the bus stop around 6:30 a.m. -- damn! forgot it was backwards day for their Spirit Week! -- and did my 5K.

Where something strange happened. I averaged less than 9 minutes per mile. When I first started running, around 2000, I generally had a training pace of 8 minutes. Maybe 8:30 if I was really tired. Since then, though, I've slowed to something closer to 9:30. No breakthrough, no eureka! moment, just a startled look at the Garmin after I finished running.

Drove to the gym and did 13.6 miles on the bike in about 65 minutes while reading a book on training for first triathlons. It's dedicated to the author's granddaughter, who is training for one. She is 3 years old. And will require therapy. By the time she is 5 years old.

I've come to the conclusion that biking is going to be my weak event. If I've got to go 112 miles, I need to be biking about twice as fast as I am now. And that's not real good. I can't spend 10 hours on a bike. So I'll be working on that a bit harder.

My swimming is coming along. I did my usual 0.3 miles in something south of 15 minutes, but I wasn't hugely worried about the time. More than anything, it's becoming a wind-down exercise on most days.

Took a shower and came home to work. It's just lovely right now outside the window -- mud season is in full bloom. It's been raining the better part of two days (think east Seattle) and will continue until the weekend, when everything turns to snow again.

On the minus side of today's ledger: My laptop hard drive died. And a software program that I use daily wouldn't start because nobody paid the annual license. Sigh.

On the plus side: I am getting faster. And I feel like I might even be getting a bit stronger. I'm eating pretty well.

Breakfast: 1 c blueberry yogurt
1 banana
Lunch: 4 oz stuffed salmon
Maple cheese omelet
Toasted bagel
Afternoon snack: Homemade chocolate chip granola
1/2 c blueberries
Dinner: 8 c mixed greens

For some reason, this site entertained me. It's a list of UN World Heritage Organization sites, grouped by country:

http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/

Outrages, we got outrages. Can't deal today, though. Too much on my own plate.

I'm bikin' long tomorrow.

Partly Cloudy, Occasional Rain and Snow, Mixed with Crap


Tuesday, March 13, 2007

A Sprint Triathlon

Well, kind of.

I've been offline, out of the gym, and off the road for a couple of days, dealing with severe family/professional/financial crises. Existential ones, too. Decided to get my proverbial you-know-what together this morning and catch up on the Lost Day of Training.

Boys were (happily!) already awake and good to go for school by 6 a.m. Dropped them off at the bus stop and did my 5K. It seemed to go quicker than usual, although not really so much -- 28:15. Gray and overcast morning, not much of a sunrise, but only 30 or so. I'm not really excited about the extended daylight savings time, although I suppose I can keep running to sunrises.

Drove to the gym and rode my 13.2 on the exercise bike. It was kind of slow, but I had a really good Easterbrook article on the economics of global warming in the Atlantic and a fun New Yorker piece by McPhee to slow me down. Finally, went to the pool and swam 0.3 miles. Thank goodness for small favors -- no one else in the gym to witness my flailings.

And that, my friends, would be the equivalent of a sprint triathlon.

Here's a link to the Easterbrook article:

http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/prem/200704/global-warming

Alas, you've gotta have a subscription. But I think the magazine is worth it -- $9.95/year for 12 issues.

Breakfast was pretty basic: 1 banana
1 c blueberry yogurt
1 Nature Valley vanilla yogurt granola bar

My homemade granola, by the way, sucked. It didn't taste bad, but I used the exact amount of honey and canola in the recipe, even though it didn't glue together very well before baking. It didn't glue together very well after baking, either. Moral of the story:

Do not trust the Whole Foods recipes. Trust your instincts.

I'll blog more later.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

OK, it's later. A perfectly hellish day on the work front. Should've stayed in the gym. Slow-cooked a roast for the kids for dinner. Even that didn't come out all that well. Stuck to my diet, though:

Lunch: Red beans and rice
Afternoon snack: 1/2 c carrots
1 c dried apples
Dinner: Sage cheese omelet with salsa
Toasted whole wheat bagel with butter

Lost my damn cash card. And my damn Shaw's card. I'm doomed if I don't find them. Too doomed to even mention the outrage of day. Mostly because I haven't had time to look for one. Sigh. I think another long workout is in my near future.

Monday, March 12, 2007

A Fair and Sober Assessment of My Sunday ...

... it sucked out loud.

Slept late, skipped breakfast. Firecracker shrimp and brown rice leftovers for lunch, granola bar for snack, and mushroom couscous with veggies for dinner. Made the kids hamburgers and homemade mint chocolate chip granola bars (which had to set overnight, so they're ready this morning).

But Sunday sucked. Really sucked.

Saturday, March 10, 2007

Hot, Hot Organic Grocery Mommies

I do believe spring is on the horizon. A few hints:
  • Maybe the weather? It was about 35 when I woke up at 8 a.m. Damn!

  • Everyone hauling their ice-fishing houses around the county today. Lake ice must be getting thin.



  • Smoke coming from the sugarhouse chimneys. Sap is rising fast. Might be hope for syrup this year, after all.



  • And, of course: Hot, Hot Organic Grocery Mommies at the co-op.

I wanted to make granola, so I went to a little co-op about 20 miles from the house -- it's a little closer than the nearest Whole Foods. Picked up rolled oats, vanilla extract, canola and chocolate chips. Generally, the women in the store range from, um, those who are mildly unattractive to those who fell from the ugly tree face-first, hitting every branch on the way down.

Not so much today. That's all I'm sayin'.

(Note to hot, hot organic grocery mommies: I'm thinking Justin or Chad or Brittany really isn't going to be that excited about the sugar-free spelt and maple granola for breakfast. Again, I'm just sayin'.)

Also grabbed some cilantro, since I had ambitions of whipping up firecracker shrimp on brown rice before dinner, since I was going to take John to see '300' and didn't want to be tempted to consume, oh, 6,000 calories of popcorn. I'm a bad parent -- it's R-rated, and he's 15 -- but I'm a firm believer in giving adolescents all the beheadings they can handle at an early age.

Stopped on the way back to run my 10-K. Reasonable time, about 54 minutes. It must've been about 40 by the time I ran, warm and overcast. First time since January that I've run without gloves and ear warmers. The dirt road was a little slushy and muddy, but that was just the middle two miles. Couple of people were out walking dogs, and an older couple, walking together with one on on a walker. Everyone enjoying the warm weather.

Made it back home in one piece, started some laundry, had lunch. Hauled five trash bags to transfer station, went to gym, swam .7 miles in about 40 minutes. Which for me is pretty damn good. Didn't even come close to drowning more than once or twice. There were kids there, but they were of the small variety, and didn't cause much in the way of tsunamis. Sat in the dry sauna for 15 minutes, showered, and came home. All told, I'm figuring about 950 calories (600 for the run, 350 for swimming). Let's call that three glazed chocolate donuts from Krispy Kreme, shall we? Give me six months, I'll be doing 1,000 calories on long days.

Outrage du jour:

http://www.ninaberman.com/index3.php?pag=prt&dir=marine

Good God. What if you were either of these kids' parents? There's not enough we can do for these kids, and we're doing damn little. I think I'd start by booking flights to Washington and Baghdad. And taking both places apart. With my bare hands.

After I finally got home, put together a nice dinner -- firecracker shrimp over brown rice. It came out well. Diet stats for the day:

Breakfast: Nature Valley maple granola bar
Lunch: One-pot pasta
Afternoon snack: Banana
1 c apples
Six wheat crackers, 3 oz chedddar
Dinner: Firecracker shrimp with brown rice

Started a load of laundry and took John to see "300." Think Braveheart in Speedos with Boobs. Went to the grocery store afterward to get Diet Coke, talked about potential jobs for him (historian, geneticist). Asked him if he thought we (the United States) were the Spartans or the Persians. My 15-year-old thought for a minute, and swear to God, came up with this beauty:

"I think we're more like the Athenians during the Peloponnesian Wars."

Shut me up until we got home around midnight. Car is stuck halfway down the skating rink that is currently the driveway. It'll thaw tomorrow. My day of rest.

Friday, March 9, 2007

Snot Cat Is Not Amused

Whoopsie.

Distinguished myself with not one, but two airhead moments this morning. Decided to work out in the evening because I had to finish a project for work by 9 a.m., and a two hour and 45 minute biking/swimming workout just wasn't going to fit.

Airhead Moment No. 1 occurred when I went downstairs to wake up John. For whatever reason, his dog -- Cleo, a 100-pound Great Pyr that looks like a smallish polar bear -- insists upon sleeping with him. Poked my head in the door and saw Cleo taking up most of the bed and figured John was in the bathroom.

He was not, and I didn't discover this until it was time to leave. So I had to drive them to school. It's about a 20-minute drive either way. Not bad, but a pain in the butt.

Airhead Moment No. 2 happened shortly thereafter when I let my Gray Kitten outside. I usually don't let her out, since we've got an unfortunate history of losing animals around the house to coyotes, bears, foxes, weasels, etc. Need I mention it's always the good ones that get nabbed? I'd like to lose a few animals that I'm boarding that aren't mine, but nothing that good ever happens.

Anyway, Gray Kitten is my favorite and only cat these days. We call her Gray Kitten because, well, we never got around to giving her a full name. She was one of eight kittens that her slutty mom presented us with one morning in New York, and she's the last of the litter. At present, her nickname is Snot Cat because she has a cold. And I let her outside. In -10 degree weather. With a cold. And forgot about her for the next 30 minutes.

Somewhere, the Cat Welfare Division is preparing an assault on the house. Snot Cat was not amused when she returned inside. I expect significant social unrest on the feline front.

Tolerable day at work. Tolerable workout. Biked 13.5 miles, 65 minutes, 375 calories while re-reading The Omnivore's Dilemma. Moral of the first part: We're all No. 2 corn and oil. Swam 1/4 mile, 15 minutes, 125 calories. Add 'em up, and it amounts to an Arby's strawberry shake's worth of exercise.

Blech.

Abominable dinner -- started scratch red beans and rice in the crockpot. Didn't use enough water, apparently. Either that, or my crockpot runs a little too hot. Anyway, there were some dry beans and some semi-burned sausage in the pot. Damn. Anyway, it's calories. Only 400 per serving, 21g protein, 76g carbs, and 2.5g fat. None too shabby.

Made three command decisions today:



  • I'm eating too damn many calories. So the menu consisted of granola and blueberries with skim for breakfast; one-pot pasta and green beans for lunch; banana for an afternoon/workout recovery snack; and red beans and rice with a tiny bit of grated cheese for dinner. We'll see how long I last on 1,500 calories/day.

  • I'm trying to settle on one, two or three marathons for the year. I don't think I'll be ready for Burlington, which is in late May. But I could be ready for Equinox (Fairbanks) on Sept. 15; Demar (Keene) on Sept. 30; or Mount Desert (Bar Harbor) on Oct. 14. Three marathons in one month ain't happening. But it might be good training to do two. I'm thinking Equinox and Mount Desert. Any recommendations, pass 'em along.

  • In a semi-related vein, I need to iron out some kinks in my training schedule. I figured out I'm working out seven days and want to cut it down to six, using the last day for cross-training or hiking (or, more likely, sleeping late). And that'll have to be a weekend. Which means I'll have to do two of my long-day exercises during the week. Which will kind of suck. I'm guessing I should swim during the weekend since it will take me more time and I really suck at swimming. The long bike ride, which could take a few hours, probably ought to be done on a weekend, too, since it'll take a few hours. Running, eh. I've gotten used to running long on weekends, and it's never more than a three-hour trot, so that's not a problem for me.

Today's outrage:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/03/09/AR2007030900539.html?sub=AR

Today's web link that I'm adding because it makes me feel better:

www.terrapass.com

It's a nifty site that lets you calculate your carbon consumption for home, plane and car. You don't have to pay to use it unless you want to get rid of your enviro-guilt and add to your moral superiority complex. And I've got a bit of a problem with it, since gas and electric are the only home variables (what about all my trees? I live on 10 acres of heavy forest, but don't get any credit?). But it's a nice illustration of why -- as my dad's been saying for, oh, 35 years -- we need a carbon tax for any number of reasons.

Check it out.

Thursday, March 8, 2007

The Hard Part

So I feel like I'm just starting to hit the hard part of training. It's where you've just realized that you've locked yourself in, there's no escaping, and progress is going to be a matter of feet, not miles.

Ordinarily, I suppose this is the part where you go for a morning run, and as you watch the sun rise, you begin weeping uncontrollably because others can only vicariously experience your self-actualization and not bear witness to the evolved species you've become.

But it's early for me yet.

So I bundled up -- a fine, -10 morning -- and took the kids to the bus stop around 6:30 a.m. Followed the bus to my running spot and slogged through the 5K in about 28 minutes, give or take a few. Drove to the gym, which was blessedly empty, and pedaled 13.2 miles in about 65 minutes while reading a gardening book. I should read really light stuff, like magazines or trashy paperbacks, when on the gym bike or elliptical. Just can't retain stuff.

Took a shower using the gym's endless supply of hot water and was back home by 9:30 a.m. About 750 calories, slightly more than enough for a Zesty Chicken Border Bowl from Taco Bell.

I should probably stop whining. The hard part doesn't start until you've got a sinus headache or sore Achilles or some such. But it's so much more fun to whine.

Plugged away at work all day. Lot of very slow stuff, not much headway. As we'd say in Texas, "spent most of the day bustin' big rocks into little rocks." I also got a little diverted by the outrage du jour:

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/03/08/washington/08polar.html?_r=1&adxnnl=1&oref=slogin&adxnnlx=1173372628-7WNbJhpW++1bZz5mt5/UEQ

Put me in a bit of a tailspin on three fronts. First off, I want to rent "Idiocracy," about an average man who's frozen in time for 500 years and wakes up to find the country is full of idiots. I think it's kind of like "Bob Roberts." You know it's satire. I know it's satire. Everyone who watches it knows it's satire. But it still scares the crap out of us, and any laughter is very nervous and forced.

Second, I've been thinking a lot about community sustainable agriculture. There are a few CSAs around here; you pay anywhere between $200 and $400 per season and get a few boxes of whatever's grown locally. Cool.

Finally, I was reading the Times review of all NY barbecue joints from yesterday's paper. It was, to put it mildly, annoying. When I lived there in the late 1990s, a bunch of former Texans at work used to go to a place in Midtown that made us realize how ex-heroin junkies get their fixes. We even called it "The Methadone Clinic," because it was clearly synthetic but kept you from seeing spiders on the walls for at least a month. It was also ersatz enough to require a month to get the "man, that was some nasty barbecue" taste from your mouth.

Now, comes to the Times to tell us that there are about 10 perfectly serviceable barbecue joints around the city. And I kid you not: I was traveling a lot back then, and my administrative assistant knew to route me through a Texas airport (Austin or Houston, mostly) when possible so I could get a barbecue fix.

Anyway, I was reading the article and salivating. A bad sign.

Speaking of diet:

Pre-run breakfast: 1/2 mini bagel with 1 tbsp peanut butter
Breakfast: Maple oatmeal
Banana
Lunch: Tuna salad with salsa
2 c carrots
Afternoon snack: 2 c dried apples
crackers, 3oz cheddar
Dinner: One-pot pasta
Green beans/new potatoes in mustard vinaigrette (the last of it)

The dinner is a nice little recipe I've stolen from Runner's World:
1/2 box Barilla Plus penne pasta
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
4 cups frozen stir-fry vegetables (broccoli, sugar snap peas, soybeans, red pepper, onion, water chestnuts)
8 ounces cooked dark- and white-meat chicken
1/2 cup shredded Parmesan cheese
Salt and pepper to taste

In a large pot, cook the pasta per package instructions and drain in a colander. In the same pot, heat oil and sautee garlic and veggies four to six minutes on medium-high heat. Add chicken and heat through. Return pasta to pot, toss with cheese, pepper flakes, salt and pepper. Serves four

Calories: 491
Protein: 33 g
Carbs: 54 g
Fat: 17 g

It ain't barbecue. I hope to inspire my wife to bake bread again soon. Her bread is wonderful. Went to Whole Foods about two weeks ago (it's a haul, but I love their produce) and picked up some bulk grains: amaranth, wheat berries and spelt. The boys love homemade bread. They're fiends. She'll bake six loaves, and half will be gone in a couple of hours.

Fiends, I tell you, fiends.

Wednesday, March 7, 2007

Swimming to Indonesia



Oh, yeah. I'm going running with you. As soon as you come and get me.




I knew it was a little warmer this morning before I even looked at the outside thermometer. I'd had a decent night's sleep, only up once and then only for about 30 minutes. I woke up for good around 5:15 a.m. because Stink the Border Collie was jumping around on the bed, demanding to be let out before he could stain every corner in the house. I got up, let him and Pepper (the girl border collie) outside. They were back at the door in about 30 seconds.

"We really didn't mean it," Pepper said. She's the agreeable one.

"Run by yourself," Stink said. His name speaks for itself.

"C'mon," Pepper said. "Let's go crap in the basement again."

I didn't mind so much. One of the problems with running with dogs in winter is the plowing. The plow guys around here use all sorts of salt and chemicals that can be extremely unpleasant on paws. Unless there's new snow and unplowed roads, it's not a good idea to take a dog running, even on a dirt road (where I run). So I got the boys ready for school and bundled up like the little brother in "A Christmas Story." Clothing list:





  • Running shorts

  • Two pairs socks (one running, one hunting)

  • Thermal underwear

  • Fleece-lined warmup pants

  • Sleeveless shirt

  • Composite fiber long-sleeve

  • Cotton turtleneck running shirt

  • Cotton hoodie

  • Running jacket shell

  • Gloves

  • Ear warmer

  • Neck roll

  • Shoes

  • Red Sox baseball cap

You could barely see my eyes. I went out to the car and the 15-year-old started laughing: "It's Abu Daddy! He make jihad upon triathlon!"

Really, I was probably a bit overdressed, even for -10. Warmed up to a fairly toasty degree around the second mile, and the iPod generally cooperated. It kept cutting out at first until I took it out of my pocket and tucked it inside my glove. Seemed to work a bit better. Finished my 5K in about 28 minutes (375 calories, according to the Garmin, although it seemed a bit sluggish), jumped in the car and drove to the gym for my morning swim.

I should probably explain that I come from an ancient line of sea people. Going way back to the early 1500s, our people lived in Genoa and did all sorts of fun things for the business there. We emigrated to England by way of France _ something about Hugenots being burned at the stake for Sunday afternoon entertainment was involved in the hasty departure_ and took some of the first bunches of Puritans to Jamestown in the early 1600s.

I know -- you can thank us later.

Unfortunately, the family tradition of being comfortable with water stopped at the edge of the New World. I blame it on the Native ancestry. We wound up marrying one of the local princesses and took over the tribe. As far as I know, they wound up liking the white man only slightly less than the water.

Fast-forward 470 years. As a child, I used to envy my older brother's swimming lessons until I realized he was coming back from them with a perpetual thousand-yard stare and a refusal to talk to our mother for the following six days. My personal swimming lessons, which commenced around age 7, were worse. They generally involved a neighborhood teen-ager trying to drown me for $10/hour. (After I tried to file several complaints with various law enforcement and child welfare agencies, the rate was upped to $25/hour.)

As bad as my older brother and I were, our younger brother hit a low-water family mark when it came his turn. My parents were so appalled at the total lack of swimming ability in the gene pool that he was frog-marched to the first meeting of an actual swim team. Mom introduced him to the coach, tipped generously, and retired to the club bar to steel herself with a steady stream of vodka and tonics while I inhaled french fries on the porch and cackled at the knowledge that the little brother would soon return -- an older, sadder, wiser, version, but still non-buoyant. After an hour, we returned to the pool, where everyone had emerged and been joyously reunited their parents ... except my 5-year-old brother, who was nowhere to be found.

This was in the late 1970s, so the fuss was considerably less than it might have been today when he failed to reappear after an hour. Still, I seem to recall about 20 squad cars parked at the club with blue lights flashing, a couple of helicopters buzzing about, a TV news crew or two, and a very strong sense of injustice that these people hadn't been around when I was burning up the phone lines to the Houston Police Department and Texas Child Welfare Division.

After a three-hour absence, my brother was discovered. Hiding. In a bathroom. With his feet on top of the toilet seat. And refusing to unlatch the door and leave until my mother promised (a) no reprisals, (b) an immediate end to the swim team experiment, and (c) a moratorium on squash, for at least a week. The cops, while having a few qualms about the lack of reprisals, had a brief caucus and announced that there was a reasonable demand or two. They urged Mom to agree. She wanted to wait for Dad, who was en route from a hastily interrupted business trip. I wanted to wait for Dad, since it would be very exciting for a 16-year-old to see his little brother executed on camera and might even get me a date if I pretended that it was a terrible tragedy. It was getting late, though, and the TV crews had deadlines, we had dinner to prepare, and the cops had a city full of donut stores that had now been abandoned for several hours, so Mom reluctantly gave in.

Technically, my 30-year-old brother is still grounded.

I digress a bit, no? I was at the gym pool around 7:45 a.m. and did 1/4 mile in about 15 minutes without drowning, mostly due to a sidestroke (I'd call it an "Australian crawl," but that would be like calling a pit bull a "Staffordshire Terrier." Technically correct, but a bit pretentious).

The first 20 or so laps went, well, swimmingly. The last 15 ... not so much. Part of this was due to my complete lack of buoyancy and pervasive goggle-fogging, but the other problem came from a couple of women who had apparently just gone on a Twinkie and coffee binge, and hoped to work it out in the pool. At least, I'd assume Twinkies and coffee, since these women didn't quite fit the body image associated with most meth addicts.

Understand: This is a large pool. Then again, these were large women, and they were quite, um, jolly. They jumped in the water together, and I was immediately displaced a good two feet. If they had cannon-balled, it's quite possible that entire Indonesian villages would have been consumed by a killer wall of water. So I finished the last half or so of my swim alternately bobbing with and against the tides.

I figured 0.25 miles in 15 minutes with about 125 calories burned. Not too bad for a morning's work -- about a half-dozen KFC boneless barbecue wings. Still, could have been better. Used the low calorie-burn to guilt myself into eating just a bit better:

Pre-run: 1/2 whole wheat bagel
1 tbsp peanut butter
Breakfast: Banana
1 cup fruit yogurt
Lunch: Cheese omelet with salsa
1/2 whole wheat bagel
Afternoon snack: 2 c raw carrots
6 wheat thins
3 oz cheddar
Dinner: 4 oz canned salmon
1 cup green beans and new potatoes, mustard vinaigrette
Yeah. I need to cut down on the cheese. It's tough.

Speaking of brothers, it's my older brother's 49th birthday. He's a (rather well-known) writer who lives in a remote part of the Rockies. How remote? The family Christmas joke with his wife used to be, "What do you get the girl who has everything except electricity?" I wouldn't say it's rural, but "Hee Haw" comes on their television through the local PBS affiliate.

(Rim shot. Take my blog. Please.)

Anyway, I called last night to see what was up, ask him how he was going to manage one last year without AARP membership, let him know that his birthday present from Cafe Press would be a few days late, etc. Since much of his writing centers around the environment, we began chatting about climate change and how nearly every state in the country had been affected, and whether or not it would make a decent story. We went through a few states, covering most of the West and most of New England. White pines in Maine, cranberries in Massachusetts, the Old Man of the Mountain in New Hampshire, birch trees everywhere. Potatoes in Idaho, storms in Washington, early warm weather in Wyoming.

"I know the maple syrup industry in Vermont has gone to hell," I said, "but what about Montana?"

"Um, the glaciers?"

I suppose he had a point:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/13363560/

Worked hard, too -- lots of telephone interviews and some light manual labor, although I was dogged by the proverbial slow start. Wife and stepdaughter spent most of the day in College Town, where stepdaughter's taking a weight-lifting class to get into shape before shipping out for basic training. I'm told with a straight face that she'll have to run a mile and a half before graduating. Oh, my.

Again, I think I'll sleep well tonight. And it's supposed to warm up tomorrow to a tolerable zero around 6 a.m. Even a 30 percent chance of snow. Somewhere, Stink is cowering ...

Tuesday, March 6, 2007

The Dog Said No

He did. Really.

I woke up at my usual 5:30 a.m., full of sunshine and good cheer. Rolled over to check my handy outdoor thermometer -- 25! Not bad!

Took me a minute and a pair of reading glasses to figure that was, um, -25. Might have had something to do with the fact that the thermometer is on the west side of the house. Couldn't have been colder than, oh, -20 on the east side. Wind looked like it was out of the north, about 40 mph, but it was hard to tell since there was a nice little mini-whiteout of blowing snow.

I looked over the edge of the bed where Stink, one of two the border collies, had taken up residence. Border collies are smart. But border collies also need constant motion. If border collies had opposable thumbs, we would not be snacking quite so high on the food chain.

"Wanna go for a run?"

Stink (who like Native Americans, earned his name) thought about it for a minute.

"Did I get into the trash again last night?"

"It's not punishment."

"Bullshit."

"It'll be fun."

Stink snorted.

I respect a border collie's intellect. So I went back to sleep until about 8:30 a.m. Got up, did manual labor in front of the computer all day (if I didn't mention it, I work out of the house. The commute from my old office was, oh, two hours. On a good day. So this isn't entirely an awful gig, just one I'm questioning. A lot). Since I felt badly about not going out in the morning, I compensated with a decent diet:

Breakfast: 1 c raspberry granola
1 c skim milk
1 c blueberries
1 tbsp sugar

Morning snack: 1/2 dozen wheat crackers
2 c dried apples

Lunch: 1 c green beans/new potatoes with mustard vinaigrette

Afternoon snack: Nature Valley maple granola bar

Dinner: 8 c green salad with salsa dressing, cheese, tortilla strips
Banana

Not enough protein, I'm thinking. Should've boiled and eaten the border collie.

Worked until 5 p.m., then blew the proverbial whistle. I usually spend most of the morning recuperating from running and shift into a higher gear around 3 p.m. or so, but since I didn't run this morning, I'd actually gotten a fair amount done before noon. So I changed into my slightly schizo running outfit -- Texas flag shorts and a University of Alaska hoodie -- and headed out to the only gym in the valley.

The bicycling wasn't bad, but that might have had something to do with the fact that it was (a) indoors, in a lovely heated building and (b) on a stationary bike that didn't have to dodge the ski trash coming up for a very early weekend without snow tires or, as near as anyone can tell, an IQ. Anyway, I did 13.2 miles (365 calories) at a very slow pace (65 minutes) while reading a book about canning food. Which sounds kind of intimidating, full of warnings about botulism and exploding glass jars and pH levels. Should've stuck to the gardening book.

I thought about the treadmill, but I pulled an Achilles tendon a few weeks ago and didn't want to go through that again. For some reason, I really hurt myself on treadmills -- shin splints, runner's knee, you name it. Doesn't matter if it's a good treadmill or a bad one. I get hurt. So I went for the elliptical trainer and did 3.2 miles (395 calories) , again at a pretty leisurely pace (8:30 per mile).

All in all, not a bad workout. Burned enough calories for, oh, one Burger King Whopper! With cheese! And got the accolade from one of the gym rats, which made me feel good. Kid must've been about 12 years old, all muscle and tattoos with no stamina. I'd been on the cycle about 45 minutes.

"Dude," he said. "You're still going? Dude."

I think I'll sleep well tonight. Lately, I've been waking up around 1:30 a.m. or so, not being able to go back to sleep until 3:30 a.m. or 4:00 a.m. Myocalm puts me down, but doesn't keep me down. Makes for a grumpy morning run, if at all. So that's another incentive to keep plugging away.

Supposed to be cold again tomorrow, about -10 at 6 a.m. and breezy.

Somehow, I'm guessing what Stink's answer will be.

Monday, March 5, 2007

The Journey of 2.4 Miles, 112 Miles and 26.2 Miles Starts ...

... with a blog. Alas, it's not the best of times:

  • I have a couple of pending work commitments that have to be done this week, or I'm likely to be re-located to a Major Metropolitan Area That I Loathe And Fled Screaming From Last Summer. Hate it when that happens. Doesn't leave excess time for mindlessly surfing the 'net or training.

  • Said employer also has been rather tardy in resolving an issue with my medical flexible spending account, which means I'll have to pony up the effin' $180 three-month gym membership on my own dime for now (I know, tax laws say you can't use an FSA for a health club, but this is different. I have a prescription).

  • Finally, and more to the point, it's supposed to fall well into the shrieking brass monkey zone tomorrow morning. Like, -40 wind chill shrieking brass monkey zone. Part of me says, it's about damn time, since it's been nothing like a New England winter. Other part of me says, run five miles tomorrow? Maybe not so much ...

Excuses, excuses. So I'm starting this blog because, frankly, I'm not disciplined enough to do this without being called a wuss by large numbers of people. And I get cold easily when it's below, oh, -15, and curl up and cry like a little girl and eat Ben & Jerry's instead of doing the Sunday morning brick.

Brick. How freakin' pretentious is that?

A bit about me, because that's what a blog is all about. And the rest of the world, and everyone in it. Remember that. It's all about me:

I'm 43, and I've never done a triathlon before. I ran a marathon a few years ago and didn't completely disgrace myself (faster than Oprah, faster than P. Diddy ... not quite as fast as a speeding sub-4:00 marathoner, though). I've swum a mile, but that was in Boy Scout camp and under duress; if I didn't finish, my brother said he'd drown me. And I've certainly ridden 112 miles on a bike, although that was in elementary school, and I had a red Schwinn with a banana seat and cards clothesline-held to the spokes so the whole deal made a really cool sound when you went down the street with your hoodlum friends to rampage and pillage along the bayou.

A hint for the geographically impaired who may have missed the bayou references: I'm not from New England. I just fled here. A token Texan, if you will. It's probably not unlike being the only Sunni at the Fallujah Shi'ite Gun Club.

More about me: I'm married. I have a 20-year-old stepdaughter who's going into the Air Force next month; odds are quite good that her contributions to military philosophy won't be appreciated by drill instructors. I have two boys whom I adore. I like to think it's reciprocated; one is 15 and still thanks me when I clean his room and go to the grocery store. The other will be 13 later this month and also thanks me for cleaning his room and going to the grocery store. I think it's odd behavior, but in a sweet sort of way.

Like a lot of people in this totally retarded economy, I'm looking for something else to do with my time that doesn't involve work. So I've ordered 50 chickens to keep in my yard (we live on 10 acres) and will probably sell the eggs at a local farmer's market. I'm learning how to can and preserve. I'm putting together plans for a vegetable garden, assuming the snow melts this year. Finally, I'm working on a textbook for kids who've killed enough brain cells to think there's still some sort of financially viable employment that doesn't involve economic rape and pillage.

And, of course, I'm training for a triathlon.

The picture posted is me about two years ago. I would like to look like that again. I'm not that far off; maybe about 10, 15 pounds and 5 percent body fat. Which means about six to nine months.

I think.

I hope.

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