Tentative

I'm not sure what I'm doing on this upright, no I know what I'm doing, taking that first baby step on coming back to 'the routine.' I'm big on routine. Others appear to enjoy swimming in chaos, Bill prefers calm.

At this point I'm far too cautious to declare normality, I've been bitten too many times on this one. But I'm hopeful. I can better empathize with others who hit an interruption to the routine and simply don't come back to the gym. I get it.

Now that it appears the crises is past and the logjam cleared all the crap piling up behind it must be addressed. Monthly reports, reviews, that thing and um NOW! You're problems have been addressed, what's the hold up here?!

So mentally it becomes very, VERY easy to start thinking, "I'll just go to work tomorrow and further catch up." until suddenly it's gone, the gym, all of it and flabby Bill is back in the mirror. It's also a tightrope, yesterday I HAD to finish some administrative things, and I did about 9pm last night.

That's why I'm back on this bike doing a twenty minute tempo routine, trying to keep a cadence over 100 at level nine. I did fairly well at it for ten minutes but then the cadence dropped to around eighty (I didn't back off the level 9). What I noticed was how my HR just kept going up, oh yeah I was feeling it.

Then ABS and some of those I have to do two reps on, I only did one but I did one of each. It was a start ya know?

While I'm stumbling around doing the ABS thing, awesomeGirl is doing one of Bubbles patented step routines. It sounded like that water feature in Kill Bill where Lucy Liu and Uma Thurman square off in that Japanese garden.

blonk-blonk pause blonk-blonk

It was peaceful, which is how I feel right now. Talk to me later so we can see how many minutes that lasted!

I'm On It

Hi, I'm sorry I haven't posted in awhile. I'm working on a post but it's kinda funny because I have a lot to say or at least babble about and not enough cycles to say it. I'm curious about the effects of excessive stress and exercise and how it relates to Bill.

I haven't been in the gym nearly as much as I need to be. I never thought I'd find myself in this situation but there it is. I'll be trying to ramp myself back up this week.

That had better happen, I have no intention of pissing away nine months of hard work.

Breakdown

"You were on the USS QP during the summer and fall of 09?!"

I stare frankly at the wide eyed kid, "Aye."

"Then you know... you know about the threads," he shudders.

I softly reply, "We'd sit alone in our cubicles, or sometimes in groups and and watch the thread count start to rise and each of us would invoke various gods and talismans trying to make the thread count fall. It was all we could do at that point, and sometimes that thread he go away... but sometimes he wouldn't go away. Sometimes that thread looks right into ya. Right into your eyes. And the thing about a thread is he's got lifeless eyes. Black eyes. Like a doll's eyes. When he comes at ya, he doesn't even seem to be livin'... until he bites your response time, and those black eyes roll over wide and then... ah then you hear that terrible high-pitched screamin'."

For those of you thinking I'm babbling about sewing - a thread is a tiny process or subroutine running inside another process, I'm already too deep in the jargon. When you push 'submit' on your browser it will fire off a thread on the system it's talking too. If you wanna be bored to tears or are in need of a good nap go here to learn more about threads. When the thread count starts to rise it means some other process, program, or system further down the line is slowing down for some reason. If the thread count continues to rise then it's good buddy response time will start to rise and that's a very bad thing.

I work for an organization consisting of various groups and departments that pride themselves on delivering the best user experience. We're tiny, we ain't no google but we're staffed with top notch, very bright people and we've been stymied by this problem for months.

A blog is by it's very definition egocentric so you've been watching/reading about my slow decent into madness, frustration, and despair. I want to point out that I have not been suffering alone. There are currently twenty to thirty additional people crammed on the USS QP which is normally staffed by a crew of ten or so. All of them digging deep into the problem, whatever it might be.

Last evening while I was monitoring the system I got the following email, "Good news is we can fix it." It just might take a few days.

Once again I hope, fool that I am.

I was determined to suffer in the gym today so I got in there pretty early around 4:50am or so but any suffering I had in mind couldn't come close to the suffering of the ghostPeople. Tears flowed down their face as one leaned on a treadmill and the other sat in the trainer's chair.

"What's up?" I ask.

"HUSH! This is a real tear jerker!"

What sort of hellish routine has Bubbles or Diablo cooked up now? Forced to watch The Women in Trouble Network... fiendish! Those monsters! I won't even glance at the screen figuring it would drive my HR through the roof. They show me various sweat stains on their shirts and other evidence of extreme exertion before ephemerally disappearing.

I'm more old school when it comes to this exercise thing. I want to Suffer. I plop down on an upright bike, plug in the ear buds, do a five minute warm up and then hammer Bubbles interval routine. As hard as I can. Somewhere around the seventh work interval I want to puke. I mean really. I try and take a swig of water and end up exhaling so hard that my mouthful spews all over me and the bike. How attractive. I'm already out of shape. sigh. I keep pushing it hard, the music on shuffle laid out perfectly for my mindset, nothing too slow, songs about desperation and losers. Then times up.

I exchange a few words with IronMan on my way out. He's looking uncomfortable on an elliptical. I miss that boy and hope to spend more time, soon, when this boat quits rolling and yawing. I also get to see goodMood and Kingsley briefly.

Sigh, that's today's news from the front.

Everything's Fiiiiinnnneeee

I want to write haiku. I want to scream. I am definitely feeling it now! ::nervous giggle, wrings hands:: You probably don't have a clue what I'm babbling about.

Do you need to?

I don't think so, the particulars of the situation(s) don't matter. What matters is the stress, the never ending, ongoing stress. Cracks are starting to show in the facade and everything's fine, it's fine, it's fiiiiinnnneeee. We'll solve this, this problem, this broken thing, but it's beginning to feel like a race against time and time is running out.

mmhmm

I woke up at 3am today, looked at the clock mutering, "Are you KIDDING me?" and went back to bed before dragging my ever widening ass out of bed at 4:05am. Suited up for the gym and here I sit on my big comfy chair typing this manifesto, this pseudo diary, this grand experiment in exercise. The gym wont happen today. It could have but it wont, not today. It's not delivering the 'kick' I need at the moment...

What I need is for this stress to abate, this problem solved, this nut cracked and then oh say a week off AND THEN business as usual.

Well let's see what today brings shall we?

Already on deck - Take the kids to the dentist, figure out what to wing for dinner and work.

I'm tired. Probably should have gone to the gym.

Dreaming of the crank
Whirring pedals, burning thighs
Prospect shimmering

Planned Parenthood Day One

I'm trying to cope with the single parent thing and thanking my lucky stars this is only temporary, but I have five working days of it. Bubbles (ever helpful) was kind (?) enough to throw something together, telling me, "This should take less than 30 minutes."

It took me forty. Maybe by Friday I'll have it down to thirty :-)

It's intense (for me) and I felt it :-)

Warm-up: Push-up/Jumping jack progression (Working from 1-10 and 10-1)

Set 1:

A. Five 1-minute stations as follows:

• 1 minute jog around gym
• 1 minute Squat Jumps
• 1 minute jog around gym
• 1 minute Squat Jumps
• 1 minute mountain climbers

B. 1 minute DB chest press on SB

Set 2:

A. Four 1-minute stations as follows:

• Medicine Ball Russian Twists
• Line Run (should take less than 30 seconds)
  • run from end line to 10’ line, back to end line
  • run to mid-court, back to end line
  • run to opposite 10’ line, back to end line
  • run to opposite end line, back to end line
• Medicine ball squat jump toss
• Shuffles

B. 1 minute DB Pullover on SB

Set 3:

A. Wall Sit (1 Minute) and Walking Lunge (1 Minute)

B. 1 minute Biceps Curls

Set 4:

A. Repeat Sequence (1 Minute): DB Sumo squat, squat, narrow squat

B. 1 minute split-stance bent over rows

Set 5:

A. Elbow Plank (1 Minute)

B. Alternating Superman’s (1 Minute)

Have a great day!

Prayers to Broken Stone

I love that phrase, prayers to broken stone. It's from a T.S. Eliot poem The Hollow Men. I wish I'd written it.

I'm suited up, changing the station from The Women in Trouble! network to The Talking Heads channel. I'm resigned to the workout. I hear the door clack open and in strolls IronMan, he takes one look at me and says, "You ready to go?"

He's wearing street clothes and I smile ruefully saying, "Don't yank my chain on this, after yesterday I could probably use some misbehaving." He's not kidding, reading something in my eyes or posture.

I dress for work and we head to Bob Evans.

Of course it's closed.

We head to McDonalds.

Of course it's closed.

But its drive-through is open. We order something and head back to the gym all the while I'm filling him in on yesterday's events. We plop down on some chairs in the lounge (for lack of a better word) and talk. That's about all I want to say on the matter (except Thanks IronMan!), it's work, it's bad and getting worse.

Yesterday's surprise cut deep.

There will be no more wishing, building sandcastles or hoping things get better. We're in the end game now, the short strokes. Everything is personal now.

Be well.

Sandcastle Dreams

I always start the mornings off filled with the hope that planned things will get done, recently by 10am I'm crushed and filled with despair. I can't get anything work wise DONE, it's annoying and piling up. Why you ask? Well OK you didn't ask but I'm gonna pretend you did.

There's this one Zulu Problem. It's the root of all my and many other folks pain. Thing is we can't find the squirrely fiend, but he's out there - oh yes indeedy! He/she/it pops up about every other day, wrecks havoc and then is gone, leaving some Terminator vibe of "I'll be back!" I'm doing the best I can to cope and Bubbles helped with that a bit this morning, showing off her new wheels.

If that doesn't say, "Expectant Mother" nothing does!

My wife has been super helpful and supportive and she's dealing with a different set of Zulu problems. So... we'll see how all of this pans out. Hopefully in this blog and not on the front pages of your local newspaper. Tutu wearing madman, reading from The Second Coming, refuses to leave building. Cuz heads up, if I'm going down it's gonna be in a tutu shrieking, "Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world!" mmhmm

Today I worked on the Thursday variation of the total body. I decided to focus on Bubbles dynamic warm up and time it. Twenty minutes! And I wasn't my usual yappy self, OK there was yapping, but not yapping. So I view my warm up as a mini-workout.

awesomeGirl flat out refused to do some I Love Lucy inspired pratfall which was a bit of a downer and IronMan scoffed at the steps and amused himself by jumping up on one of the benches. He made it look too easy but wouldn't try it with a BOSU ball on the thing. Maybe next week.

I'm now trying to pop off little Zulu Problems in some vain attempt at stemming the tide. As I gaze from my lofty sandcastle turret I'm in slightly better spirits. These walls are bound to hold! Maybe today will be drama free.

Hey, a boy can dream.

Zulu Dawn

"Ung, oh, oh God, unngghhh..." pant, pant, pant, Jeeze! I sound like a porn star I realize, dialing down the volume. I'm humping working riding this upright bike, pretty much hating it. My thighs are cranky and giving me nothing but grief and frankly I'm not in the mood for their static so they had better BACK DOWN AND SUCK IT UP!

I am beyond edgy and starting to wonder what the straw will be. Everyday the tension is ratcheted up a notch, the pressure incrementally building but never abating. Not yet. What will the straw be? A casual back talk from one of my kids delivered like a thousand others that certainly wont merit the ensuing explosion of Mt. Bill? Some innocuous comment by my wife? I hate these Zulu Dawn feelings, I can identify most of the pressure points but there just seem to be so many of them that it's pointless, let them overrun me - stupid Zulu Problems. It's either that or I have to man up and start picking them off, one by one.

sigh

It's just me and AT Everest in the gym. I flipped a TV on but could care less about today's pack of lies. The weather's been great and I can't ride my bike. I HAVE NO TIME FOR THAT. It's annoying. I've finally jacked my HR up to where I want it and my bitchy thighs aren't buying into my promise of a serious stretch after we get off this thing. There's no music, just Everest's quiet pants and porno Bill, sheesh I'm doing it again. I was hoping to get into the zone for quiet contemplation of probably nothing but at least not focused on this pain, this work of getting through twenty lousy minutes. If my cadence isn't above 90 the whole thing doesn't feel right, I finally level out at eight and around a 91 cadence which feels right.

awesomeGirl strolls in and I give her a bleary wave. She starts doing her thing and I'm finally in cool down. I hop off the bike, deliver the promised serious stretch, grab the BOSU ball and start hammering through ABS.

It's incredibly quiet in the gym. AT Everest has wandered off and there's no music, just me and awesomeGirl pondering our own thoughts, thing is, I'm not thinking nothin' just feeling the Zulu Problems amass outside the gym, waiting their turn.

awesomeGirl is doing some weird Bubbles inspired lunge where you lunge forward off a step, turn your upper body ninety degrees, turn back and push yourself back up on the step while holding weights. She's worried about falling. It's one of those exercises where you don't think you're doing anything and all of a sudden you have improved balance.

I'm doing BOSU Russian Twists when awesomeGirl falls on her butt. She's OK but decides to put on some music and get rid of the step.

I wrap up the ABS, say good morning to Bubbles and head out into the Zulu Dawn. There are even more Zulu Problems now. Figures.

While I'm getting what will certainly be many cups of caffeine today two ghostPeople approach relaying the latest indignity delivered by a company that leases office space from us. They guard their parking spaces with a zeal approaching that of Daffy Duck with a pearl.

Apparently Security Officer TooMuchTimeOnMyHands decided to issue them 'tickets' for parking in clearly labeled gym parking spaces at 4:15am. A time when the lot is near capacity, if four cars is near capacity, including the security guys.

The 'ticket' informs the ghostPeople that if they're employees of this company that leases from us they better get a car sticker within a week or they're gonna get towed, no and if or buts about it.

Well the ghostPeople are full of and ifs and buts and give Security Officer TooMuchTimeOnMyHands an earful of them including the fact that they've been employed at the company his company leases from since the dawn of time and they were parked in the clearly marked gym parking spaces. Security Officer TooMuchTimeOnMyHands offers to tear up the 'tickets' but the ghostPeople are having none of it. No, this matter shall now proceed up the corporate ladder so he can continue to enjoy being read the riot act on each and every rung of it! They have a point, in fact they have several but at a minimum no one should be issuing 'tickets' at 4:15 in the morning in empty parking lots no matter where you park. You're just asking for trouble. In needs to be resolved if merely for morale purposes otherwise we're gonna start egging each others offices and that's a lose lose for us since we own both buildings.

When Push Comes to Shove

I feel time crunched and don't like it. I seem to have set off a bit of a firestorm with my critic of the seven deadly foods prompting noNeed (I think, I loved the way it was phrased) to comment,

I haven't had a donut since 2003. They're totally not worth it! noneed

What I find telling about the comment is the date, like a reformed alcoholic, "It's been six years since my last drink..." It made me smile and wonder at the same time if she missed them still. I miss things too like cocaine, er binge drinking, er stuff! OK There's stuff you're gonna miss for a variety of reasons but when push comes to shove you know in your heart and soul you're better for it and wished you hadn't gone down that path in the first place. I don't miss the 'stuff' anymore (as much, there ARE days if I'm honest about it) - I'm too darned busy for it. But doughnuts and cheeseburgers? That's asking too much of Bill.

That's exercises' greatest trap and couch potatoes recognize it on a cellular level. Like having a kid, your lifestyle will change dramatically. You have more energy and you don't want to sit on the couch. Not as much anyway, unless you're tired from doing something you didn't use to do before, like weeding, or annoying your kids with your new found interest. Heck a few weeks on the bike and TomS is already over at a friend's house staining their fence. He balked at mowing my lawn so I figure he needs more time on the bike!

Where was I? I'm over-amped on coffee now and finding it hard to focus on my point. Do I have one?

It's this, exercise will change your life for the better. But go ahead and eat doughnuts if you want to it just means you have to exercise more, shrug.

Glad I got past that latest insight.

So this weekend was a bit of a CHALLENGE for yours truly. My daughter had oh seven or so eleven year olds over for a party she was hosting. She asked each one of them to bring desert and Friday evening I was circling the following pic like a great white with blood in the water:

Oh my! Whatever shall I do?

Eventually the preteen cabal met and found me 'uncool' so I was sent to the backyard where I started a fire, drank my two fingers of single malt and hung out with a six year old Japanese girl who thought I was cool, well she thought the fire was cool anyway, she tolerated me. But needless to say there were a lot of treats left at the end of the party.

Did I partake? Let's just say that I was a little nervous at today's weigh in, but clocked in at 201, four pounds below suicidal and false remorse.

I did 17.5 miles on that Saturday. No great shakes distance wise but I did it without stopping, my average speed 14.8 mph and cadence of 66. My lower back, butt and legs definitely noticed it. I'm gonna have to do more of that, but it's the end of the season.

sigh

And that was as far as I got on Monday before a big wave of work rolled over me.

So I have goals I'm fairly convinced I'm gonna miss this year. That's OK (sorta) but the one I really wanted to make was the ride to Prospect lugging my camera along. I'm told that once I accomplish that Bill becomes a real bicyclist plus it has a cool western name. I hear they have an Amish roadside bakery thing that intoIt wont pass up and with a name like Prospect it just has to have an Amish brothel and Amish gunfights! I bet the roadside bakery is a front for it! I just need to figure out the code for my uh demanding readership who um force me into such situations.

Anyway as I climbed into my car this Tuesday morning from the gym at ten to seven I noticed that it was still dark and I could feel the Prospect run start to slide away.

Time will tell, which I'm out of - IronMan is also mucking around with his schedule and was out the door when I came in this morning. I want to post something today so I have to go.

Have a fantastic day!

Death Doughnut

The trick is not to break the yolk. Sitting in my office I'm eying my morning breakfast, sizing it up. This might actually require some thought. I eat the first of my two strips of bacon pondering the problem.

There's no way around it, not really. I finish the bacon and gently try and pick up one of the eggs. Darn it! Yolk bursts from the tricky bastard like an infected zit falling like rain on my plate. I hunch over the thing, rapidly slurping the egg into my mouth like a toothless old man. With egg white hanging from my chin I realize this might be difficult to explain to the casual Friday visitor.

I slurp faster. One down, one to go.

This is how the forkless go through life. Congress should pass some trillion dollar bill guaranteeing I'll have a fork when I need one. Yeah, I could go back downstairs and get one but I don't wanna. Too much work for this boy.

As I'm picking up the last egg hand grenade and gracefully slurping it down like a starved baby bird while yolk flows over my fingers and chin onto the plate I ponder the death doughnut. It's time is nigh but first I must mop up this yolk covered plate with the healthy whole grain toast.

Awhile back JRock and wickedWoman sent out some motivational reading. wickedWoman sent out a URL to an article titled 7 Foods to NEVER Eat. Riffing on the seven deadly sins I guess... I decide to check it out and gasp in HORROR! It has some little scary line that reads, "These seven foods should be avoided at all costs. Not only will they widen your waistline, but they'll also ruin your health in more ways than one."

RUIN MY HEALTH?!!! IN ALL SORTS OF WAYS?!

Oh I have GOT to see this - what to avoid... for the rest of my life!

1. Doughnuts - Seriously? As I cram my doughnut into my mouth I figure OK I'm going to overrule this, doughnuts fall under 'acceptable risk'. Next.
2. Cheeseburger - ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! I could care less that, "The saturated fat found in cheeseburgers has been linked to heart attacks, strokes and some types of cancer." WHAT HASN'T EXCEPT WATER? Even if they prove it does all that wicked crap I'm not giving up a cheeseburger.
3. Fried Chicken - For cryin' out loud. First I was born in the south. NEXT!
4. Oscar Mayer's Lunchables - Fine I'll give those up since I rarely eat them anyway. Next!
5. Sugary Cereals - FINE! But you'll be hearing from my daughter on this one! Next!
6. Processed Meats - So cheeseburgers weren't enough for your 'holier than thou' food nazis huh? Not only that but lets get rid of, "Hot dogs, sausage, jerky, bacon, certain lunch meats and meats used in canned soup products." How... how can you even look at yourself in the mirror? Publish this swill will ya? (why am I yelling at a browser window?) NEXT!
7. Canned Soups - Sure why not? Unless it's winter and I've come in from shoveling the driveway and my wife has a nice big pot of it in front of me.

This list is soooo not Bill. I can swing maybe two out of the seven. I'm curious, unless you're some vegan (I did note Celery of Desperate Despair did not make this list) what do you eat? These dudes are quacks but go ahead and live longer but when you're laying on your deathbed wishing you had eaten maybe ONE cheeseburger and a death doughnut in the last fifty years don't come crying to me. I'll be dead.

Oh yeah and I worked out today. I didn't get through much of the ABS cuz IronMan kept gabbing! ::rolls eyes::

Don't Mess with the Gods

I was not in the mood to work out today given the nightmare work situation that happened last night. I came in, did my warm up, did one other thing and went to work.

sigh

The Apostate Bill

What am I doing on this bike? A W. C. Fields quote rolls through my head as I hammer the pedals trying to get through the pain while fighting to control my breathing, "If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. Then quit. There's no point in being a damn fool about it."

Have I been a fool? That setback on Monday hit me harder than I thought causing me to stumble through the subsequent days like some moody goth chick. Like... like... an apostate. Disillusioned and disappointed. If I was a better writer (e.g. paid for it) I could become an alcoholic but that path is currently barred.

I catch IronMan in my periphery and salute. He waves back but keeps his distance. He doesn't want to catch what I've got. I don't blame him.

Must I renounce exercise?

I try that on for size during Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit, "I RENOUNCE TEEN SPIRIT."

sigh

Why am I on this damned bike?! Why did I drag my corpulent body out of the bed at 4:09 this morning so that the alarm wouldn't set itself off and wake my wife? I'm obviously delusional. I'm back at JRock's party, someone saying, "He works out everyday!" with that kind of tone you reserve for the truly extreme, the serious, scary ones - The Believers. McBeal sitting next to me on some soccer chair and we're discussing what sort of drug addicts my kids will become and how I'll deal with it. I half expect her to hand me her card saying, "Give this to your daughter for when she needs it." Oh great. My daughter will be represented by allyMcBeal when I get pissed off at her. I don't stand a chance. Sisterhood of the Traveling Panties - sheesh! Why can't guys get good representation when they mess up? Cuz we're idiots that's why. I'm in the car headed to a hardware store with my wife so that I can buy a lock so that someone else wont lock me out of my own locker. Weird. I'm devastated about this weight gain and my wife knows it. She's trying to help, "I think you're just putting on muscle. You've lost so much fat in your thighs, they're all muscle now."

"I do have awesome thighs don't I?"

"mmhmm"

"You should oil them so they glisten like a god's! Oil my thighs!"

She giggles. She'll never know how much I love that giggle. Live for it.

WHY AM I STILL HUMPING THIS BIKE?! Why, when I finally get off it will I proceed to Bubbles' hellish ABS routine and do them really hard, to the best of my ability if it's all for naught? So I can stand on that scale again next Monday and find out I've put on another four pounds like the exercise equivalent of Benjamin Button?

One thing I do know is that I can't/wont give up the treats. I do moderate them (sorta) but I can't stay away from them, I don't want to stay away from them. So does that mean I must renounce this path? Can I have it both ways?

I glance at the Garmin, average HR of 143. I've done better but my average cadence is around 98 which is close to a sprint for me. I've been holding that for fifteen minutes, five to go - ho hum - varying the level between eight and nine. I'm working hard here.

I'm working so hard.

Why wont the weight drop?

Bubbles drops dime with an email yesterday asking, "Interesting song today on your blog?" I can almost hear the implicit WTF?! I miss Zumba. I kick back to her what that's all about, my anger and disappointment with my weight.

Bubbles replies with a sliver of hope, in her typical direct fashion, "I’m finally looking over your food log from awhile back that I must have printed early July. Looks like you need MORE nutrients. You are not feeding your body what it needs to burn fat as fuel. Here are a few suggestions:"

I'm drawing a blank on the suggestions since I'm trying to keep the cadence above 100 for these final three minutes. OK?! Gawd I want to puke. Food? Who brought that up? Oh yeah, Bubbles did, trying to lay me low, put another notch on the ol' failure belt. Not gonna happen. I hold the cadence.

Covered in sweat I sit up on the bike, working my HR and breathing down. Feeling the onset of sanity and clarity. I do the ABS. I shower, stand on the scale (I just have to know!)

199

A five pound drop in 24 hours. And yes I went potty but I didn't give birth.

Weird.

And my mailbox is filling up with encouragement and helpful articles today. Thank you for sending them! I'll read them and bookmark the ones I find relevant to me. I might even comment on them, but not today.

Look, I don't know why I'm on that bike, I'm not sure I care.

Let me ask an honest question.

Why are you?

Mr. Brightside

Sung to the tune Mr. Brightside by The Killers. I'm not allowed to embed the video so you have to click on the link (awesome video BTW).

I've been dropping my weight
And I've been doing just fine
Gotta gotta be down
Because I want it all

It started out with a cake
How did it end up like this?
It was only a cake
It was only a cake

Now I'm doing a squat
And running in place
While lifting a weight
Increasing my heart rate

Now I'm humping this bike
And my stomach is sick
And it's all in my head

But I'm eating ice cream now
Munching a cookie now
Let me go

And I just can't stop its killing me
And taking control

Gluttony, putting flab onto my knees
Increasing my waist size
Choking on my biggie fries

But it's just the price I pay
Destiny is calling me
Open up my eager mouth
'Cause I'm Mr Brightside

I've been dropping my weight
And I've been doing just fine
Gotta gotta be down
Because I want it all

It started out with a cake
How did it end up like this?
It was only a cake
It was only a cake

Now I'm doing a squat
And running in place
While lifting a weight
Increasing my heart rate

Now I'm humping this bike
And my stomach is sick
And it's all in my head

But I'm eating ice cream now
Munching a cookie now
Let me go

'Cause I just can't stop its killing me
And taking control

Gluttony, putting flab onto my knees
Increasing my waist size
Choking on my biggie fries

But it's just the price I pay
Destiny is calling me
Open up my eager mouth
'Cause I'm Mr Brightside

I never...
I never...
I never...
I never...

It's All About Fifty Unless It's FOUR!

Have you ever crossed into the wrong neighborhood? I feel hostile eyes on me and hear threatening whispers, "You're not from around here... you don't belong."

Werewolf country.

A near full moon is descending on my left providing no real illumination and I'm surrounded by menacing things!

I'm enjoying creeping myself out and for the first time in awhile I'm glad I'm on my bike. It's equipped for this kind of work but I have to keep my eyes on the illuminated patch of road in front of me. I don't want any pothole surprises. It changes how I ride, staring into that tunnel of light, moving slower than I normally would, not that I move all that fast anyway.

My first objective is a burg called Magnetic Springs where I plan on drinking its fabled water but my ultimate objective is doing fifty miles. I'm curious about the water. I told goFast I was going to blow by the quarry but it lights up the night like a small city. I stop.

What is it with me and this quarry?

I'm back on the bike still ambling towards Magnetic Springs, glancing from time to time at the werewolf filled moors knowing where the fog banks cross the roads they could be waiting.

Here there be werewolves!

I'm cold and its too quiet and spooky. I have no peripheral vision since I've got to pay attention to the immediate road. I'm starting to believe I've missed the best time to do this which would have been earlier in the season when it's lighter earlier.

Suddenly this raccoon-possum thing darts in front of me, both of us shrieking our terror at each other and its gone.

Super.

If anything is going to cause me harm it's going to one of those things. I'm envisioning going ass over teakettle when I hit a chip and tar section of the road. I've never noticed the tar part of it but the 'chip' are these very fine pebbles coating the road like snow. I go even slower, gravel is a problem for me and I'd like to think others on bicycles but me for sure. I keep relaxing my tense grip on the handle bar, listening to the crunch under the wheels and just keep going. It was an intense few miles and me no likeee. I'm beyond relieved when the sound ends and the road resumes.

I go through a quiet town and I'm thinking that it sure would be peachy if the sun came out and lit things up a bit. I keep glancing to my right waiting for it and finally...

Here comes the sun!

And it presents me with a new problem. What's wrong with this picture?


Imagine you're in your car going down the road the same direction as Bill at say forty-five miles an hour and you meet Bill in that fog bank. I've made a mistake but if I survive I'll learn from it. I employ a weird sort of interval going as quickly as I can through the bank and putting some distance between me and it, repeating at the next one. Thank heavens there weren't that many. I understand better why I haven't seem my fellow bikers out here, it's insane, as insane as this ungodly hour of the morning. One reason bikers dress like dorks is to be seen (there are other reasons like comfort and pride) and I'm in a bright reflective windbreaker so that the folk in the car will notice me but this isn't good.

I'm in new territory now and it's brightening up nicely and I pass Burnt Pond idly wondering how you burn a pond and picking up speed and recalling goFast's advice that I don't want to go down that road. Here there be German Shepherds that go around 21 miles an hour. goFast does interval training with them, me? I can hit 21 going downhill.

I finally hit 37, the next milestone towards being taken seriously and I pull over a short ways down 37 trying to decide if this is the road I need to take. I'm frequently faced with these problems when first attempting a new route but I grab my printout and check - yep take this one.

goFast is no fan of 37 (the road on the left) so neither am I. I don't need experience with it to make that determination. If he says so, good enough for me.

Around twenty miles in I hit Magnetic Springs. My first stop is at what I hope is one of goFast's relatives.

Did I get the right house?

For the life of me I can't figure out how to work the freeze proof faucet! It's this red handle that looks like an old fashoined pupm handle. I'm disappointed that I can't work it but I make not to try it again in the future.

While munching a Clif bar I take the following pic - it just made me smile:

Hineys huh? A one star resturant :-)

Magnetic Springs

These are the kinds of towns I pass through when not going through endless fields. I like them, I like knowing they still exist!

I'm definitely going for fifty now. Since I'm a naughty boy and not wearing any panties underwear my butt and saddle are getting along much, much better. I head out and cross over the river before heading down a road that goFast and intoIt say are some of the prettiest around.

Maybe. One section of it seemed so washed out that it was a little wider than a driveway. I didn't like that so much, but then it broke into an area of real beauty.

The river is just off to the right.

As I'm ambling on down the road I catch a sight that makes me stop and take a pic.

Beehives?

Finally on the way back in before I decide to extend the trip (there will be NO DRAMA about the fifty miles) I pass the Hallmark House, the place I mentioned a few posts ago. I decide to stop and take a few pictures of the rest of the place (this is the one that had the water wheel)

Loud rock music was blaring from the house (Guns N' Roses?) so I move on. I think they've completely lost their minds. It's 9:20 in the morning for crying out loud.

After starting at 5:30 in the morning, four and a half hours later, I pull into my driveway having ridden fifty one miles on my bike!

I don't hurt nearly as much as did after the forty from last week but I do hurt. I also feel very good about myself.

Next...

JRock's Surprise Birthday Party!

JRock and IronMan live in a very beautiful home. I think she was surprised by the party. There were a lot of folk there and I got to meet their parents along with seeing a lot from the gym crew. Ally was there and she provided my wife and I with directions to Put-In-Bay, where we were headed the next day. She was saying, "You go to Los ::garbled unpronounceable Spanish::"

"I don't know where that is," I confess.

"YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE LOS ::GARBLED UNPRONOUNCABLE SPANISH:: IS?!" glaring at me with this I thought you were cool! look.

We figure it out eventually and get to Put-In-Bay much quicker than without her help.

I didn't get to see much of JRock and IronMan they were busy doing the host thing so I don't know what JRock's big gift was. We had to leave early.

noNeed, her hubby BobbyOrr and her pal who will need naming and I shot the breeze for a bit. They are funny! noNeed and friend were two who I mentioned way back in the beginning. A lot of people were complementing me on my weight loss and I couldn't shut up about my fifty mile ride. There were so many others who deserve mention but I'll tell you true, it's 8PM on Monday and I'm running out of gas. I may touch back on this in the future.

JRock and IronMan - We had a blast! Thanks so much for inviting us!

Sunday, a beautiful day we went to Put-In-Bay. This was my rest day so we rode a golf course all over the place. That was fun!


Monday my wife and I went into the gym together. I had to do an interval workout and I was excited to see if I finally got below 200.

Since my wife was there I was kind of pushing it during the intervals, showing off, I wanted her to see how hard I worked during the week. Then we did about half the ABS workout (come on it was a holiday!) and I was feeling just fine. (BTW the lock was gone and I now have a replacement for it).

I hop out of the shower, towel off and step on the scale.

204

I gained four pounds over the week. Yes I had treats, yes I enjoyed myself, no I don't think I over did it.

Within a second all the complements, the fifty miles, the thirty seven pounds (now thirty three) lost just evaporated. It felt like nothing happened at all, the work over the week, all of it a failure.

Do you know how bitter I am?

They Say It's Your Birthday!!!

"I hope I get a good spanking from everyone! I do enjoy them so..."

This was in response to my innocent query on what JRock wanted for her birthday. Apparently this rite of passage is to occur in the atrium if we can all gather there and fulfill her simple dream. I'm pretty sure (JRock is nothing if not aerobic) she's envisioning something like this:

If enough of us show up it should give JRock a pretty good workout with all that crawling around. If I did the math right, based off a comment from wickedWoman her actual birthday is on the sixth of September. We might have to show up at JRock's place and spank her again, I'm not sure of the protocol. We'll be out of town this weekend anyway so this is it for me.

I dropped by JRock's office and it has been defiled with birthday balloons and what-not. Apparently she's "Over the Hill" but which hill? I figure IronMan has a hint of the cradle robber in him so I'm guessing forty. Let's not disappoint her and give her the spanking she deserves, 'k?

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JROCK!!!
May All Your Birthday Wishes Come True!

I had a hectic morning. I couldn't ride the bike in and my son was holding me to some 6:15am time frame so that I could help him get all his band stuff to school for pics and the game tonight (apparently we're playing Canada, I'm not clear on if its the entire country or not but I'm grateful it's not hockey). So I be bopped into the gym and did the cardio part and some of the ABS, focusing on the dreaded BOSU ball work. As I was leaving IronMan strolled in along with goodMood. Ponytail was suffering on a stair climber and Diablo was there. It was great to see him, he was looking quite happy.

And yes, I'm still locked out of my locker by Mr. Shiny Brass Lock Man.

Have an awesome Labor Day!!!

Well It's Just Your Nineteenth Nervous Breakdown

• Still locked out of own locker - check
• Start of head cold (I'll never be trendy enough to get H1N1) - check
• Unreasonably irritable last night - check

Snot flowed freely down my face to the point I was loathe to wipe it with my bike glove. I knew it would be difficult to look more attractive, except when I floss, I'm pretty gosh darned HOT when I have both fists crammed in my mouth trying to stretch some tiny, waxed covered string over a back molar while fighting my gag reflex.

I was grateful there were no females around at that time of the morning. It would be cruel to unnecessarily arouse them, I'm a married man after all. I grab a tissue and clean up before unloading the bike and getting ready for today's fun.

I need to find cycles so that I can put up Bubbles' routine(s) for me. It's practically art and I hope it will help me shed these final ten pounds and put me on the next challenge of keeping it off. I've been at this for eight months.

This is hard.

I'm tired.

I glance at Thursday's workout and realize I can't match half of the cryptic names to the routines.

1 Leg SB Curls

OK, 'SB' means stability ball... I begin forming the mental image of yours truly perched on top of one like a flamingo, holding two dumbbells for curling. I don't recall Bubbles having me do that when she walked me through this a week ago... she did with a BOSU... maybe... I eye the stability ball nervously.

awesomeGirl, IronMan and goodMood are drawing blanks. I'm not too concerned, Bubbles is due in shortly to introduce awesomeGirl to a new circle of hell. I'll ask her then. I work on the routines I recall, doing one backwards so I had to do that one again.

Bubbles shows me and I get through that sorta OK.

My wife cracked like a fine china plate last night giving in to our daughter's plea for a dog. Her rear tire flatted on her bike and that repair didn't go well... and I'm moody Bill with a head cold. The dog's going to happen and I'm resigned to it and actually kinda looking forward to it, if you want unquestioning love you can't go wrong with a dog. And I know my wonderful daughter will grow weary of the morning walks, and then walks in general and I'll have to man up for that but secretly I kinda want to. Still, along with one kid starting high school and another starting middle school it's just another egg to juggle.

It's all good!

Except for this cold...

Not a bad August for me and the bike.

Everyone Has a New Bike But Meeeeeee!

I'm still locked out of my own locker by Mr. Shiny Brass Lock Man. Just thought you should know.

"It's not always about you Bill!"

Why not?

Ah it doesn't matter. Today is about goFast and goFaster. If you recall a few days ago goFast set out on some sixty to eighty mile jaunt with intoIt and anotherNutJob before having to call for his SAG wagon due to mechanical problems with his bike.

I was drinking a cup of Earl Grey while reading his whiny post on FaceBook when suddenly I was gripped by a vision that I simply had to share with his vast FaceBook audience!

We all know what THIS means! You can't ignore these signs from God. I'll spell it out (I've had training) M-A-D-O-N-E or something of equal coolness (I perceive you have wiggle room in this case). Now go forth

THE ORACLE HAS SPOKEN!

goFaster begged to differ.

Uhh, no I believe you are getting a mixed message. Let me, the all knowing one, spell it out for you C-O-L-L-E-G-E fund! Fix the old bike. :)

mmhmm, she REALLY said that!

I brewed another cup of tea mixing in various hallucinogens such as Aleve and waited for my next vision, which came somewhere in the middle of Donovan's Mellow Yellow. I, the sole voice of reason, spewed all over FaceBook,

Um I'm not sure what weird cult of responsibility you're a member of goFaster but that's just crazy talk! If congress has taught us anything at all it's spend what we don't have! Where have you been?!

Anyway they'll bail you out with some bizarre stimulus package that ONLY stimulates Wisconsin bike companies so what's the worry?

Do it for Ted gosh darn it!!!

Hmmm as I gaze into my imaginary tea leaves I see goFast's path is FRAUGHT WITH DANGER for another way to spell Madone is - MAD-ONE so I guess we're gonna have to have you deprogrammed or all liquored up so you're not so cranky, huh?

I STAND BY MY PROPHESY!

I then tried to offer her some metaphorical kool-aid but this was rejected and a silence fell on this topic. I wondered what happened until something shiny distracted me.

Monday I was greeted with the following in my inbox.

goFast's New Bike

To the untrained eye, such as mine, that looks like a road bike but it's not, it's a cyclo-cross bike. goFast is already training for a race apparently. The boy doesn't mess around. According to Wikipedia, "Races consists of many laps of a short 1.5–2 mile course featuring pavement, wooded trails, grass, steep hills and obstacles requiring the rider to quickly dismount, carry the bike whilst navigating the obstruction and remount in one motion."

Um, sounds anaerobic - shudders

But that's goFast in a nutshell, he likes to race while goFaster likes to run. I don't know if goFaster likes to race while she runs but goFast will race just about anything except maybe goFaster in a 5K, that might make for a quiet dinner.

So let's recap.

• intoIt - new bike
• TomS - new bike
• goFast - new bike

Now intoIt had to get hit by a car to get his new bike but he's extreme. goFast and TomS simply bought theirs. Me? I rode old rickety in this morning, the annoying 'tick' sound is back.

Woe, oh woe unto Bill for all shall bathe in new bike glory but he, the forsaken, unworthy one. Having failed in my fifty mile ride, lard ass (my intimidating bike name) simply doesn't deserve such a treat, I haven't suffered enough.

But I will, oh yes indeedy! :-)

And then... if I'm a very good boy...