Intervals, Ho-Hos and Short-Shorts

I suffered on the upright today doing the hated intervals and came off the bike feeling pukey. Ain't exercise grand?

Let's see... we had awesomeGirl, a taciturn IronMan (well my impression anyway, it's not like I could interact with him while doing repellent intervals, gasping, snot flowing, trying not to puke, earbud wearing wheezer that I am, it probably makes me appear a tad standoffish), deerHunter, deerHunter's wife (I'm gonna have to name her methinks), ponyTail and some guy that is experimenting with morning workouts.

I have no idea what was going on when I was on the bike but when I got off it we discussed deep, deep topics like Powerpuff Girls and if I should wear short-shorts when spotting deerHunter on the bench press. ponyTail is of the opinion I should not wear short-shorts, um, EVER! I don't know - I think I could pull it off... It was another fun workout! When you get the right mix in there it's not nearly as dreary as when you're trying to get through it alone.

You've heard me mention this iPod app I use called Lose It! - well I'm also a "fan" of their facebook page where occasionally they toss up something like:

What are some easy-to-make, healthy snack options?

After I'm done rolling my eyes I read a mess-o replies like:

making your own salad! fresh veggies, even cranberries can be delicious! I like to use cucumbers, almonds, and cheddar or feta cheese in mine. just using a handful of salad can make it into a snack, instead of a huge one

Yogurt smoothies. Ice- low fat vanilla yogurt, and frozen or fresh fruit. Awesome.

My kids and I take graham crackers and place a spoonful of yogurt and top with another graham cracker. Then we freeze them for "ice cream" sandwiches. They are around 20 calories a piece and fill my sweet tooth.

Ho-Hos. I burn about 900 calories just getting the wrapper off, it's a real battle let me tell ya!
PS: I am so SICK of baby carrots

Orville Redenbacher's 100-calorie mini bags of microwave popcorn - feels like I have a lot of food with so many pieces!

We discovered Tabloule at Costco that is wonderful 1/8 cup is only 30 cals and put that on 5 Water table crackers for another 56 cals and it is a really low cal but filling snack. My 13 yr old even likes it.


I'll leave it to you, gentle reader, to find my comment. I don't know, I just can't help myself. Plus I get annoyed at these sorts of things. I guess there are people out there thinking about this stuff and measuring out portions. I'm a bit more free wheeling in my calorie counting which is why I'm stuck at 206 pounds at the moment. But when I'm circling my wife's birthday cake like the great white shark I am I'm not thinking about substituting it with, "Orville Redenbacher's 100-calorie mini bags of microwave popcorn."

Nope. Not even a distant blip on the radar. And when the cake's gone (oh yes, the cake will be gone, Bill has plans for the cake) and the cupboard is bare I don't think about making my own salad, I think about hopping in the car and refreshing our stock. The thing is, I'm too darned lazy to do that for a few days, so during that time frame is when I usually make progress on my weight. I think I get annoyed with how earnest all the replies are. As of this writing there are 41 replies, 40 of them sincere ("peel a grapefruit and eat it...loads of fiber and vitamin c."). Why peel it? I mean if you're after fiber and all.

This outflow of earnestness and sincerity seems to get under my skin. Am I the only one who lusts for Ho-Hos, cake, and ice-cream while bucking at the endless denial? Probably, but I'm going to at least acknowledge there are Ho-Hos in this world and their siren call to me and my giving into the baser side of my palate. If there's a banana and a Ho-Ho sitting all undefended on the counter first I'll eat the banana in a vain attempt to stave off the Ho-Ho before circling the Ho-Ho like it's a wounded seal, this stupid good cop/bad cop war going on in my head ("You'll be a better person if you don't eat the Ho-Ho..." EAT THE DAMNED HO-HO BEFORE YOUR KIDS GET IT YOU IDIOT) and if one of my kids hasn't grabbed the Ho-Ho in that time, I'll eat that too. Look, I'm a mess and I can get so very confused, once I ate 677 calories of mostly crap trying to keep from eating a bowl of ice cream.

Guess what? Yep, I did it, I kept that bowl of ice cream at bay!

But I'll tell ya, I think I won the battle and lost the war.

::pops seven Valium:: Apologies for the tirade.

Dear Diary...

25 Feb 2010

Dear Diary,

Waking up at 3:30am after going to bed at 9pm, having your my wife summarily reject my amorous advances (get off me!!!) at that time of day seems to result in finding oneself on a treadmill at 5am marching up and down "hills" at 3.7mph, lifting showering blah blah blah

AND THEN

Finding myself back at home so that I can give my wife a ride to work since her car isn't out of "the shop" yet

AND

Discovering your my family has been replaced by ZOMBIE PEOPLE who do not tolerate noise of any sort and I'm wrecking everyone's day by simply being there all dressed and ready to go like some monster elephant in the room bumming everyone out - sheesh!

Please file this under...

BAD IDEA

Ding Ding

My thoughts pop and sizzle across my mind like water droplets on a overheated skillet. I don't try and latch on to any of them, letting the skitter across my consciousness like so much clutter whirling around Dorthy's room before she achieved liftoff and headed to Oz.

I'm doing sixty minutes on the upright bike.

I don't know why, I'm just doing it. My focus is currently rudderless.

There's an eruption of noise off to the left. It sounds like IronMan is killing a small boar with a the feral grunts and whatnot. I put on my glasses to check it out. Oh, he's doing that again, some horrible pushup routine JRock stumbled across. Only IronMan is insane enough to try them. Silly Rabbit.

I think I'm on the bike because of HER, she haunts my dreams... and I must prepare.

No, not her you dweeb. She's just some everyday chick in a spin class pretending to workout. They're all over the place and you usually have to shove one out of the way if you want to get a bike. Except this chick is the worst, she's a faker and so I hate her.

Even if she's just warming up for her workout which I doubt but let's give her the benefit of the doubt, with all that makeup on after three minutes spinning I guarantee you she'd look like this:

So give me a break, honestly why would such a creature haunt my dreams?

No, no no...the dream is always the same, starting with the distant sound of a bell...

ding-ding

Hear it?

I'm on my fancy-pantsy Madone burning down some bike path at a casual cadence.

ding-ding

A little louder. With dream logic I know this is not a good thing but having faith in my carbon-fiber wonder bike I shift into a faster gear and thrill at the sudden burst of acceleration. "Welcome to dropsville, population you - LOSER!" I mentally gloat.

ding-ding

Louder still. I glance behind and see her, my heart filling with dread. How can this be happening? My head snaps forward and I open the floodgates pouring everything I've got into the bike.

ding-ding

Oh dear God!

ding-ding

I only catch a glimpse of her as she whips by, her demonic smile at crushing me... she's gone.

I wake up screaming.

They Say It's Your Birthday!

Happy Birthday to my Sweet Wife!

I hope all your birthday wishes come true!!!

You're probably wondering what I got her, well glance to your left and gaze with wonder upon Awesome MEGA Composter! mmhmm ::nods head:: note with envy the convenient dual agitator turning grips that perform the twofold function of mixing the coffee grounds, body parts, lettuce, leaves, marijuana, er grass and whatever else my darling cares to toss into the bottomless black hexagon of churning. The bin is black to attract warmth and aid in the process known as 'heating' using the very power of the sun! So it's a fusion driven device far too complicated for your puny mind to fathom, poor baby. Once my son and daughter have spent a month or so continuously spinning the device in the back yard, you simply have them pull up the wheelbarrow, slide open the convenient top and pour the loamy goodness into it before dispersing it on the grateful plants struggling to survive in the garden. Upon receiving such a fantastic boon they will spew forth a magnificent harvest of... um... things you harvest and uh eat, so I've read anyway.

I'm certain she'll love it! ::nervously mops brow::

My decent into some weird belated hibernation continues unabated. My morning routine has become getting up, getting dressed (I remembered my gym shorts today YAY ME!), and reading some websites to learn how the government has annoyed me today while drinking a cup of joe. Then, usually grumpy about the latest immense bureaucratic affront, I grab my stuff and head into the gym. This is nothing new, I am an autistic creature of routine.

What's new is the lack of joy... no that's wrong... motivation? Well something's lacking, darn it, even if I remember my shorts. Sunlight? I always underestimate this time of year, it's such a drag. After I goofed around in the gym, walking, talking, watching IronMan, goodMood, myPeg and awesomeGirl give their quiet lesson in doing it right I sadly head to the car. I'm looking at the melting snow, the endless gray of the landscape and I smile at the thought of sunlight, warmth... biking to work. I know in my heart of hearts I will immediately develop a love/hate with biking, once the weather permits it and bitch about that too. But right here, right now, I want it.

So what? There are more important things.

Today's my wife's birthday and that's the coolest thing EVER. Hey wife! I do love you so! HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVAH! ::serious look::

Oh, One of THOSE Mondays

I confess, I've had better weekends.

bikerBabe and her hubby have a nice little goal of doing at least one bike ride a month. She got her's in on Saturday. I liked the idea so much AND since I did a ride in January I decided to steal this tradition/goal.

I'm no bikerBabe so after suiting up I had to study the terrain, careful planning was needed.

Bill Thoughtfully Studies the Terrain

After that I fired up the Garmin (an epic ride, such as this one, can't be over documented) and went for it! As I've mentioned before, the Garmin should not be used for calling in missile strikes but you get the gist of what I've accomplished. I went to the end of the driveway AND BACK! And I lived! How cool is that?

The Definition of Total Concentration Bill Approaches the Driveway

105 FEET baby!

In

Your

Face

bikerBabe!!!

mmhmm I don't even know why I bother to train for a century. Flush with success I then surprised the adoring crowd by wheeling about and going for a 2.25 MILE tour de neighborhood. That was fun, but I decided I had pushed the envelope far enough for one day and came in and took a four hour nap. It felt GREAT to be back on the bike again, even for such a short amount of time.

Monday I get up, get dressed, drink my coffee and head into the gym. Once there I notice that I forgot my gym shorts. Being a gentleman I decide to spare everyone the sight of Bill working out in his tighty-whiteys. It is Monday after all. The major problem is that the warm up pants I'm wearing are so baggy that I can't keep them up so I opt out of cardio. I do some ABS and a bit of lifting before heading to the showers knowing it's going to be one of those Mondays where I forget my pants.

Maybe Tuesday will be better?

Lent: Day Two 'Welcome to the Night Shift'

"Where's the fire?" I'm looking around nervously in the lobby of the gym this morning about 5:30am at the flashing strobe lights, klaxons filling my head. I can't see anything wrong. I can't smell anything wrong. No one's here. Since I'm not in England, I walk down the hallway looking for trouble.

Periodically the annoying klaxons would stop and some calm woman's voice would come on saying, "You're going to die, try not to be too messy about it. If you should choose life please exit the building immediately and rubberneck from a safe distance with the others." Then the klaxons and blinking would resume with their infernal cacophony. I'm actually thinking I would prefer Kingsley's musical choices at this time of morning over this din. I mentally shrug and head out the door where I see IronMan climbing out of that tank of his he calls a 'car.'

IronMan asks about the fire alarm and points out that Bubbles' car is over in it's customary place. Laughing in the face of certain death we head back into the gym to make sure that Bubbles is OK. IronMan bee-lines for the woman's locker room, probably after a latte or a strawberry smoothie. I remind him that he's looking for Bubbles as he heads in. He waves me off, pulling a lobster bib from his gym bag and tying it on. Those chicks live high on the hog over there in the woman's locker room.

We wander around a bit but Bubbles is not to be found. Either her water broke or her car wouldn't start. She's not due until early March so the smart moneys on car problems. Suddenly we're face to face with an irate security guard. This one looks like a kid instead of the old guy variety. He's glaring at us so I figure it's best to get off on the right foot with him.

"IronMan did it, I tried to stop him."

The poor dear looks totally sleep deprived. He mutters, or shouts but I can barely hear him over the klaxons, "There isn't a fire, they're just testing the system making sure everything's working."

"How long will it last?"

He manages to look even glummer, "Forever. Someone has to come by and make sure every light is blinking, every klaxon... klaxoning and that you can hear that awful woman's voice. There's a klaxon right over my desk..." He trails off while rummaging through drawers.

"What are you looking for?"

"A post-it, I want to put a message up on the door telling people this is only a test."

His despair is infectious so I halfheartedly pretend to look for one before telling him, "We're going to be here for awhile. We can tell folk that it's just a test."

He almost perks up at this news muttering thanks over the shrill of the klaxons before staring blankly at nothing.

I have no time, inclination nor medicinals (except the ever present Aleve) to help out my glum chum with his introduction to sleep deprivation. He's on his own, welcome to the night shift baby. I leave him to get dressed for my workout.

While getting dressed the fire alarm test stops. But what's it mean? This is a serious omen, another warning that I'm not right with God! I just don't understand why these harbingers of doom can't be a tad clearer with their warnings. What's with the cryptic? Can't some voice like that calm fire-alarm chick's come over God's PA and spell it out? Something down the lines of, "Please put down the Double Stuff or I shall smite thee! If you choose to eat the Double Stuff please don't make a mess when I explode your head." At least I'd know what the issue is! Since my list of crimes is longer than your average maniac's I HATE guessing! Sheesh!

I hop on a bike and begin hammering out fifty-five minutes for the heck of it. I haven't seen Bubbles in awhile and feel like a teenager playing hooky. Diablo is strolling down the hallway with that patented smirk of his and solves the Bubbles car in the parking lot mystery:

It's a BOY!!!

Bubbles delivered a baby boy, 9 lbs. 8 oz. and 20 in. That's all I know about that but I assume mom and kid are fine.

Welcome to the night shift Bubbles and sciFi.

Diablo begins yakking about how this was sooner than planned (yeah, heads up on that, kids will mess with the whole planning thing. It's what they do best) so Bubbles temporary replacement isn't in place yet so there will be some juggling with the classes.

This is of course irrelevant. There are two critical questions that must be answered about this replacement and I'm just the guy to ask them!

"Is she a drill sergeant type?" I want to experience one of those, particularly if it's only three or so months. I can handle that length of time... maybe. A mental image of hope begins to form in my mind of the trainer screaming at me...

Get With The Program!

Might be fun. It might suck too but it would be different and temporary. Sadly Diablo informs me that she wont be a 'drill sergeant type.' I'll probably have to figure out a different way of experiencing that, it doesn't appear to be part of the gym's culture.

My mental image reforms into a kind of girly-girl opposite meekly pleading with me, "Please do another push-up. Please."

Mildly stoned on endorphins, I further blacken my soul and ask, "Well, is she hot?"

Diablo blanches and awesomeGirl almost stops her 5-rpm cadence on the recumbent next to me. Apparently I've made some sort of gaffe. Diablo is glaring at me and reminding me that I'm married while refusing to comment the new trainer's hotness or not - like Martin Short stonewalling when he played that cigarette flack Nathan Furm.

Well I can't un-ask the question and we're not in court (yet) where I can bellow out, "Strike that!" to the court stenographer. I decide to back off this line of questioning since I suddenly have a hostile witness on my hands.

We'll just have to see what this temporary trainer brings to the table. I'll have to name her too, maybe. She'll probably avoid me, not that I blame her. Me not being right with God and all.

Day two of lent went better than I hoped. My wife managed to keep me out of the house until it was bedtime for Bill. I also accomplished all the tasks I set out to do yesterday so there are interesting side effects to this whole avoiding Oreos thing that I'll have to investigate further. Here check out my new lucky bamboo holder thingy! First the old leaky one.

Old 'Leaky'

Now the new one with a cup my daughter painted for me eight years ago when she was ::counts on fingers:: THREE!... yeah three.

New Improved Bamboo Vase

I think the black stones add a nice contrast, don't you? They also serve as a metaphor for the sins against God and man I've probably committed just today alone.

Sigh

Tonight my wife will be leaving me home unsupervised again. Why must I be tested so?

Have a wonderful weekend!

Lent: Day One "The Fiasco"

I will at a minimum give up my evening treats.

I think we should collectively dissect the above statement with all the care Tiger Woods' attorney would parse Tiger saying something foolish like, "I will at a minimum give up my evening mistress" during a press conference. I guess we'll have to see how that goes for him tomorrow but in the meantime Bill has some 'splaining to do.

I've emailed congress asking for a definition of 'treat' and expect a 14,323 page bill costing fifteen billion dollars back in a few days. Nebraska will be exempt from any definition of 'treat' I'm certain. Until that glorious moment arrives we'll just have to look at The Food Log, under last evening snacks:

• 3 Oreo Double Stuffs - 194 calories
• 10 Wheat Thin crackers - 95 calories
• 2 Hershey's 'Special Dark' mini bars - 181 calories
• 2 Chocolate 'No Bake' cookies - 137 calories
• 1 Medium Banana - 70 calories
• For a total of 677 calories.

Not bad huh? ::nervously mops brow::

OK, look, as usual I'm blameless in this. My wife had gone out with a buddy of hers to see some basketball game leaving me unsupervised. So what did you think would happen?! I am a being of dark, infantile desires - EVERYONE KNOWS THAT!

And so what if this was on top of two slices of Medium Pizza Hut Pan Pizza with a breadstick to boot? The pizza was cheese, half pineapple, half no sauce since the sauce apparently "spices" my daughter's tongue. Surly the pineapple counts for something on the healthy choice meter, right? RIGHT?!

I am so going to hell.

Alright, this is merely a minor setback and so I must regroup. It's obvious I need some sort of distraction so I'll whip together a list of crap to do instead of wondering who'll advance in American Idol or fantasizing about some female Olympian while idly munching another Double Stuff. Yeah, let's try THAT!

OK a list:

1. Go to Lowes and buy some rock salt and a new battery for my garage door opener while avoiding making eye contact with any snow-blowers or lathes or anything costing more than say $20. I mean honestly what would I do with a lathe? Make a lamp?
2. Measure the basement shelves for the missing shelves the dude said he'd deliver about two years ago when I stupidly paid him and dropped right off his radar.
3. Shovel the driveway getting it ready for the upcoming yet another Storm of the Century currently scheduled for this Sunday so the schools can close again on Monday.
4. Get pebbles for my 'lucky' bamboo and transfer said luck to a bigger jar so I don't dehydrate the silly things.
5. Try not to murder anyone through road-rage, or the shelf guy in particular.

There, that's a start. Maybe if I exhaust myself moving snow around like some buck private moves holes in the Army I can do the rest of the list on Friday. Yeah...

My evening debasement caused me to sleep in this morning so I got into the gym pretty late and caught JRock pretending to wipe down the StairClimber and spritzing herself with a water bottle as I strolled into the gym. Or she really did it. She's probably one of those people who don't make empty promises like, "I will at a minimum give up my evening treats" and actually keeps them if she does. ponyTail was doing her marching thing on the treadmill and IronMan was laying on the floor eating peeled grapes (JRock does spoil him so) or doing situps, I couldn't make him out clearly since there was a bunch of machines in the way. goodMood was tossing iron and deerHunter was a no show. I was a no show too in effect. I did fifteen on the treadmill (fat burn do get rid of those stupid cookies from last night, yeah that should do it) and jawed for fifteen before announcing another 'good workout everybody!' and heading for the showers.

Strolling out I saw Kojak peddling an upright bike, just like he used to months ago. Is that an omen? What's it meeeaaaannnnn????

As I sat in the car I pondered my current mood. I am so sick of winter! I just want to ride my bike and that's it! Of course once I actually ride my bike about fifteen minutes into that I'll be thinking, "I am so sick of bike riding!" but that hasn't happened yet. NOW is the time I should be lifting, stretching and doing more cardio in order to prepare for the bike season. But I'm not, I read a lot about it but that's it.

I KNOW!

I will create a program to train, stretch and prepare for long hours in the saddle and begin implementing it tomorrow!

Do you believe it? Me either. Here's hoping your head's in a better place than mine is at the moment.

Be well darn it!

Gratitude

Well I've been busy but that's no excuse. Life swirls around me and therefore I simply must blog about it. There must be a record so that others (those left behind) will know what happened, where it all went wrong and perhaps avoid these errors.

Awhile back I mentioned we're in 'it' now. Naturally cruel fate decided to up the ante and dumped even more snow upon us. Needless to say I didn't take this well and word on the street is to expect even more sometime this weekend and maybe even Monday so the schools might close again. Time will tell.

Before the snow hit on Monday I came out of the gates with a bounce in my step and a gleam in my eye. By 3pm that was gone as I crawled along in the morass that was traffic at the time, trying to flee the white death and reach the safety of my home, knowing in my heart of hearts that my son (who's smarter than I'll ever be) would not have shoveled the driveway. Why bother? He's fifteen and not driving anywhere.

My despair was nearly complete. I had weighed in that Monday, expecting maybe 205 since, yes gentle reader I did partake of treats of damnation and paid a heavy price for it as I stared at 207 on the scale. We're no longer speaking, the scale and I. In fact I wont even look at the terrible thing, it's dead to me. D-E-A-D. It's obvious, even to the most unsophisticated lout that my body is trying to defend me against the harsh winter by heaping warming fat upon my wondrous body, thwarting my attempts to firm up and drop weight for the upcoming century.

I shake my fist at my stagnant metabolism in frustration!

So, of course today is Lent and even though I'm not a Catholic the rest of my family is (long story short, if I wanted to marry my wonderful wife the kids had to be raised Catholic - where do I sign?) and there's been much wailing and gnashing of teeth on what they're giving up for the next forty days. They've been gamely applying peer pressure (and if the 70s, 80s, 90s, 2000s are any indicator I'm a sucker for it), gently needling me about what I'm going to give up.

Grinning ear to ear I reply, "There are times when it's good to be a heathen!"

But now I can not ignore this metabolic omen of doom. That would be unwise and invite disaster. Why just yesterday I had another warning shot fired across my bow by whatever capricious being is currently playing with Bill.

I lost my hat.

Sometime in the morning it just disappeared. I noticed it when I was walking out to the car after gym on Tuesday and little snowflakes fell upon my pate making me quite cold. You might not notice it but Bill is follicly impaired. Bald in other words. So I tend to perceive things like cold snowflakes on my scalp. I looked everywhere but the hat was gone, and this wasn't just any hat. I've had that hat for close to 20 years.

That evening, as I watched Olympians while eating no bake cookies and ice cream I was sad.

This morning as I stumbled about at 4am I was fairly certain that I wouldn't be giving up hats for Lent and would have to find a suitable replacement on the net. However this all changed when I pulled into the gym this morning and saw...

Reenactment

My heart filled with joy! I hopped out of the car, shoving a mystified IronMan out of the way, grabbed my hat and pulled it over my chilly, grateful head, letting the snow that accumulated over the last 24 hours melt on my scalp. Whoever did me such a kindness, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!

Still the portents are clear and can NOT be ignored. I must offer some sort of... oblation, that's a word right? The spell checker says it is so I'm good with it.

::takes a deep breath::

So, for Lent, which is forty days I think, I will at a minimum give up my evening treats.

There I said it.

ponyTail, TIM, IronMan and awesomeGirl were all in the gym today. It was good to see IronMan again even though he tried to get me to do my own patio work this spring instead of paying for it. Me, the screedless wonder.

On another front, TIM has been trying to get me to change his name to deerHunter posting subtleties like, "deerHunter is way better than TIM" on my facebook wall. He didn't exactly help his case this morning by reminding me of how young he was compared to the fossil Bill. ponyTail, another youngster wasn't helping - at all!

I have been babbling (I was doing another LSD thing on the bike) about having seen The Stones when they were young and having TIM come back with, "I believe I was in diapers when Jagger turned 60."

I finally hop off the bike. IronMan had left the building and I'm not sure what to do with myself. I've been on the bike for fifty minutes of non coasting FUN and TIM's been taunting me to compete on various feats.

Weight lifting!

Not likely TIM. How about pushups?

SURE! I bet I can do fifty. How many can you do?

Well it depends on how you define 'pushup.'

This brings giggles and guffaws from around the gym. So I retort:

How about something on the bike.

TIM goes quiet perhaps exposing an Achilles heel.

We go back and forth a bit before ponyTail, sensing blood in the water, challenges TIM to do a marathon this October. He mentions that he's walked 26 miles with two hunting dogs and a shotgun. I'm not sure how the race organizers would take to that but why not? I imagine anyone in front of him would be well motivated to keep moving and those behind him just might opt to remain there like when you come up on a State Trooper who's going 64 on the interstate. You're just not sure you want to pass him.

It was a great day in the gym. I'm even giving more thought to penning ponyTail's biography, ponyTail, A Sordid Marathon Tragedy. Or something like that.

I've taunted TIM enough, he's a gentle spirit so I will paradoxically call him deerHunter going forward with this blog.

I haven't decided if I'm going to blog about it or not but if you have a moment would you please say a prayer for my Father-In-Law "Bo"? He's going through a rough patch at the moment and kind thoughts never hurt.

Thanks.

Fun At the Gym

I can't quite put a name to him, I'm waffling between deerHunter and teenageIronMan (as in I Was a Teenage IronMan) TIM for short. Whatever, he's currently an FNG from my point of view, a big guy and a serious weight lifter when he's not out there in the hinterland thinning the herd. As you know, I'm all for that! (Bill glares at the imaginary deer in his office eating his 'lucky' bamboo). I'll keep an eye on TIM and something will come to me, but for now TIM will do.

Weird vibe in the gym today. By some collective group consciousness thing we all decided to get in a bit earlier than we normally do. I was in a bathroom stall in serious labor, giving birth when IronMan called out, "Glad to see you could make it today." Yeah, static from IronMan at 5:30am mmhmm rolls eyes. I smile at the greeting from inside my sanctuary and explain to him that I just needed a day off, you know listen to my body kind of garbled message I read from all the bike books littering the area near my bed. If I listened to my body I'd still be around 240lbs and not blogging. Yes, yes I know there are some that pray for that. So I only half listen to my body, you know like I would to my wife when she's nagging er helping me better myself on something or other. I know when the decibel level gets above a certain threshold (body or wife) it's time to look up and take heed, oh yes you have my attention now, are you sure you want it?

The mixed message from the bike books boil down to this:

To bike is to suffer and to suffer is to bike. You must endure incredible hardship when on the bike suffering, if you're not suffering then you're not doing it right and therefor not biking at all, you're relaxing, growing fatter, slower, dying right in front of my eyes. You'll never amount to anything on the bike unless you're in wretched agony, gasping, dying (but the right kind of dying, not that zone 0.5 resting heart rate crap you call biking), miserable on some interval workout or six hour tempo ride. Heap torment upon anguish on yourself and then you're approximating what it is to bike. But listen to your body and if you feel tired then take the day off.

Huh?

As I reflect on the above paragraph I wonder what it is with me and the bike? Maybe I could do the whole suffering thing with a weekly, hourly visit to Madame Nightingale's House of Bondage and Torment? Something to ponder I guess.

So today's tribulation was on the elliptical. AT Everest managed to injure herself and will be healing for a bit so now's the time to grab the elliptical as far as I'm concerned. I'm still experimenting with LSD but feeling a growing need for some serious interval work. Shrug.

IronMan, probably in some blind panic, has been conducting a What Are You Getting Your Sweetheart for Valentine's? survey. goodMood is thinking a nice dinner, IronMan asks me.

"A real hard drive, so my wife can back up her computer."

This brings a torrent of giggles from ponyTail over to my left on one of the treadmills, "A real hard drive, huh?" followed by more giggling. I get it, smile and needless to say the conversation headed towards the gutter filled with innuendo and double entendres. It was pretty funny. TIM's to my immediate left on another treadmill, waiting his turn for the elliptical and looking sorta threatening about it. I'm giving him a running countdown of time left until I'm done. He was a BIG HELP with the conversation!

I notice allyMcBeal on the third treadmill, farthest to my left. It must be treadmill day. I'm wondering how she does it. She just appears, must be some sort of teleportation device or something. She's jogging along reading a magazine. Both TIM and I are mystified at how she can do that at all! Show off! :-)

I hop off the elliptical, wipe it down and do some sit-up/get-ups. My back starts to whine about this so I back off getting serious with ABS and look around for something else to do. TIM asks if I'm going to be doing some bench presses today. He's put about nine million pounds on the bar and is motioning me over to give it a try. Pshaw! I tell him to let me know when he's serious, I one arm curl that weight. I then try to get out of his line of sight hoping he'll forget about me. He probably would if I could keep my fat mouth shut.

I'm eying the bench press bar and the 250lbs on it or so (TIM's just warming up) and I want to see if I can even lift it. I ask if I can try that and TIM says, "Sure." ponyTail is standing over by the Assisted Smith watching with that kind of expectation you see when someone's watching America's Funniest Videos. I push the weight up, TIM standing over me to help with the bar but I don't even try and clear it off the safety. I wish I had now but next time I will when TIM or IronMan's about and ponyTail has the paramedics on speed dial.

The gym is filled with go-getters and ponyTail calls over to TIM asking if she can use the chin-up machine (for lack of a better term) to do some AB work. Agreeable TIM says certainly when I notice under it another barbell.

What's this?

The barbell has only one side of it loaded with weight. I don't know how much, enough that I'm not real interested in trying it. Whatever 'it' is. I ask TIM and he explains that you do rows with it. You straddle the bar, keeping your feet as close together as possible, bend you legs slightly, grip the bar as close as possible to the weight (one hand behind the other) and lift with with just your back muscles, trying not to use your arms as much as is feasible.

I find a weight free barbell near McBeal, pick it up saying, "Stand back ladies and watch the magic!" bringing both giggles and guffaws from every female in the gym and try this new exercise. I query TIM on form and what-not and think I know how to do it in the future.

TIM is asking about the latest gym "Employee of the Month" posting over on some bulletin board. I had done one about three months after I started coming to the gym. They're stories of how you ended up at the gym in the first place, a bit biographical and what keeps you coming in kind of thing. We're thinking this one has been up awhile. I ask ponyTail when she's writing hers. She visibly pales, shaking her head nope, no way. Being Mr. Helpful I offer to write it for her. I'm already certain it will be total fiction since I hardly know her at all when it comes to the background story. It could be fun and the title The Legend of ponyTail starts to form in my head.

ponyTail chuckles not sure if I'm serious or not. I wonder if I am? I cheshire smile at her before heading to the showers.

Have a great weekend!

We're In IT Now!

"The big dog just went down," goodMood nods toward screen while he marches up yet another step on the hellish StairClimber.

I look up from the display on the upright bike I'm currently struggling with, already questioning the 45 minute time I put on the thing earlier even though I've only been at it for ten minutes. I can feel the onset of a black mood and I'm pretty sure that I'm not going to like what I see as I focus on the TV above me.

Yep, there it is.

City Schools CLOSED

It's 6am. The ripple effect was immediate and the next slide on the screen read:

Every other suburban school is closed.

I stare glumly back at the bike monitor and watch the first drop of sweat fall off my nose onto the bike thinking, "We're in 'it' now."

Even though I'm suppose to be awash in endorphins I feel a certain bitterness descend. Like the lemming suburban schools blindly following the big dog city school off an unnecessary snow day this bitterness was followed hard upon by a black mood that rivaled the Senate's loss of their super majority. I spent the next fifteen minutes spewing right wing "I can't BELIEVE they're canceling school AGAIN!" crap from the bike until awesomeGirl had enough of my bile, got off the recumbent she was on, got the binkie Bubbles keeps in a drawer for when I get too lippy and shoved it in my mouth, shutting me down.

Since my wife was buried in meetings and I wasn't I got to work from home but that was a thorn in my side since I was so irritated with the schools. My irritation stems from the fact that the schools already have Friday and Monday scheduled off. Friday for a 'Teacher Day' or something like that, whatever the heck that is and Monday for Presidents Day. My kids are probably old enough to get through a day without being supervised but you can't help but wonder exactly how Lord of Flies it's getting at home when you're at work, it's distracting, particularly when your kid answers the phone with, "Kill the pig!" At least I'm blessed working for a company where it's an option to work from home when needed.

Then my lower back started hurting from all the snow shoveling I guess, or I'm PMSing I can't tell any more with this stupid mood. Even Aleve couldn't cut into that so I decided to take Thursday off from the gym and slept in today, getting up at 5:15am figuring today was already shot.

Yep, I'm in it now. The bad part of the year, the endless gray days, cabin fever, black moods, stupid snow days that throw me off my autistic internal clock, increasing undirected rage at nothing in particular. No hope for Spring, I might as well just modify the Trek for snow and be done with it.

This will pass or my wife will probably smother me with a pillow, either works I guess. But here in the Midwest we're all sucking wind this time of year and as much as I'd like to embrace this dark mood with the zeal my daughter can embrace hers I best not, I'm suppose to be 'the steady one' and everyone's face tightens with concern when Bill goes a bit dinky-dau.

Another Day in Paradise

First a belated HAPPY BIRTHDAY to IronMan!!!

Yesterday was his birthday. He wouldn't divulge his age since he's older than dirt I guess. Still a really happy birthday to him! I hope it was a great one!

We're in the second wave of death storms and already the weathermen seem a little burned out. Poor babies. Our kids' schools closed even though there was maybe a quarter inch of the white death on the ground. Whatever. I can never figure this crap out anymore. So I'll be working from home after the meetings today and might even get some of the stuff done that I want done. A boy can dream.

I confess to not having faith in Bubbles driving across town to get to work today, this lack of faith coupled with my desire to dodge HEAT had me doing some frantic lifting and ABS and my darnedest to get out of there before 7am. Well, and IronMan made me by setting a poor example and yakking about his drive across town through the death storm.

I guess this is actually The Son of DeathStorm!!! He's gonna hang out in town until 6pm tomorrow so I wonder if they'll ever bother to have school again. I mean they already have this Friday off for some reason AND Monday off since it's 'Squirrel Day" or someone's day. Funny how that works out huh? Me, I don't get those days off and yeah, I'm a tad jealous.

Maybe I can organize an office drive similar to this one: (disclaimer, this is a Bud Light commercial but it may be a tad strong for your tastes, if you think so then don't click play! And if you decide you are 'Bud Light Curious' don't blame me if you have an adverse reaction - you've been warned)

Cats a Musical

Flipping off the death storm, from a distance and when it wasn't looking, my family and I hopped in the car and saw Cats in Cincy.

Apparently I hadn't consumed enough mescaline to fully understand the first act of Cats and was somewhat bored. Except for the dancing, it had a Fosse feel to it. So I picked out this tall lithe dancer named Stephanie Campbell and promptly decided to fall in love with her. She played 'The Egyptian Cat' I was told. Whatever. What she did was dance so cleanly, with such apparent joy that even though she had no lines you just couldn't help but notice her. There's something about watching someone who can do something really well that makes the whole experience better. She had that 'thing' whatever it is. So a philistine such as myself can recognize that there was some serious, technical dancing going on.

The second act went better and I wasn't struggling for consciousness like IronMan in some eight hour meeting. The orchestra discovered that there are songs that actually contain a MELODY. Who knew? They also dialed back the whole explanation of what Jellicle cats were and why we cared, I can't speak for the great unwashed but I wasn't won over. My daughter however was enthralled which is really cool when you think about it. So the orchestra (which was out of sight and perhaps just a disc) found a melody and there were these kind of short stories that I could follow in the second act and... spaceships? Alien cats that floated off... to the mothership? Maybe the mescaline had started to take hold by then, I'm really not sure what was happening towards the end of the musical except this ancient cat named Deuteronomy selected this other ancient cat named I forget to get on this rock which started floating upward while Deuteronomy got on this lighted spaceship pad looking thing... but it didn't have the lift the rock did so it only went about halfway up spewing fog while we and the rest of the Cats cast watched.

Um, yeah and the second act was the coherent act.

Anyway there was this amazing song called Memory that was sung by the flea bitten rock flying cat. When that girl opened her pipes on that song, well oh my gosh! It was utterly amazing! That one song carried the entire musical for me, well that and Ms. Campbell's remarkable dancing.

Deuteronomy and Flea Bitten Cat attempting liftoff

Check it out. Musicals are fun!

When we got back home the snowplows had wrecked their havoc and we had to actually shovel our way into the garage. My back is pretty sore this Monday morning and there may be a Bill at HEAT tomorrow but then again there may not. Time and Aleve will tell.

I hope you had a great weekend too!

It's the End of the World As We Know It

One of my favorite winter activities started today. The airwaves are abuzz with our impending doom. Yes, Death Storm 2010 The Revenge of Global Warming! is here.

The excitement of the weatherfolk is palpable, though not visible THANK GOD! They're tossing out the usual, "Well most of us will be dead and society will have collapsed by 6PM tomorrow" spiel. Soon the cub reporters will be standing next to a freeway calmly telling us how to drive in it and if you don't have a snow shovel you're gonna probably have to kill poor Mrs Johnson down the street if you want one.

I'm watching this prelude to the fall of the Republic (any minute now, mmhmm, just you wait, it's gonna happen, you'll wish you would have listened when you're trying to shovel your driveway with a soup spoon and a spatula) with sweat pouring down my face while plodding along on the upright bicycle for fifty minutes. My second LSD run, it's as trippy as I can get it right now. I think the true LSD experience is measured in hours and for that to happen I have to get rid of this pesky snow, get the temperature up some, like the fifties and get on the stupid bike, the real one. I'd go topless if it was fifty (apologies for the mental image) ::wistful sigh::

My thoughts of becoming the future Timothy Leary of biking are once again conflicted and I turn away from the oncoming slaughter and begin reflecting on last nights reading. Next to my bed are something like seven books on cycling and one on that crackhead Agassi. I have yet to hit the meth years for poor Andre but I'll get back to him in a bit, right now my head's in a different space.

I picked up Training Techniques for Cyclists by Bicycling Magazine figuring it was going to be filled with a bunch of airhead crap like their magazine is. Look, you can't review a $6,000 Madone in a paragraph, I'm sorry and surprised I'm still bitter about that, but when you plop down in the sauna you expect a certain amount of detail while sweating.

So I'm pondering their latest wisdom about LSD.

You've probably read somewhere that you burn more fat with low-intensity exercise. While it's true that at low intensities fat provides a higher percentage of fuel, it's also true that you lose weight by burning calories. And you'll burn more calories by riding harder.

For example, cycling for 1 hour at a heart rate of 120 bpm may burn 350 calories. Of these, about half (175) will be fat. Conversely, if you pedal harder and get your heart rate up to 160 bpm, you might burn as much as 1,000 calories during that same hour-long ride. At this intensity, only about one-fifth (200) calories will be from fat (still 25 more than at the lower intensity), but the calorie deficit created is much, much higher, meaning you're at that much further along the path to losing weight (for each pound lost, you'll need to burn 3,500 calories).

This is doubly significant because of the way your body restocks calories. Studies show that when you exercise at low intensities and burn a higher percentage of fat calories, your body replenishes these first. So, you end up right back where you started. If you're trying to lose weight, it's best to ride at the highest level that's sustainable and won't disrupt your training program...

Oh for crying out loud! What if I drink olive oil huh? HUH?!

I swear to God on High I will go insane! He goes on to tell you that if you're riding enough to become competitive and being a bike racer don't worry about it, you'll lose weight. He also states not to over train and to obey the 80/20 rule where the 80 is at a lower (below Anabolic Threshold) rate when I figure out where that is but also to avoid what I mentally call zone three where you're working pretty hard but not really improving but (I assume) jacking up your 'calorie deficit' like congress is the budget.

I have no intention of becoming a competitive bicyclist. I just want to go on really long bike rides during the weekend, do a century without dying, and enjoy the experience. I also want to lose ten more lousy pounds doing these activities without having to think about it too much.

It doesn't matter, we're all going to die in the death storm anyway.

Drive safe!

LSD Anyone?

I'm winging my first attempt at LSD and pretty much screwing it up I'm sure. I come out of the gates this morning already time compressed - angsty. Pink isn't helping any, "I'm gonna get in trouble, I wanna start a fight" and she seems to be such a nice girl - rolls eyes

But that's how I feel, fighty. Obviously something's going wrong with the LSD process, where's my mellow high? I'm sitting on this bike (upright) at my 'happy' cadence of around 90 and going for forty-five minutes trying to keep my heart rate around 60-75% maxHR. But is that the right range? I DON'T KNOW! But I'm in it now, I bought the ticket so I might as well take the ride.

Go - The - Distance.

Elite endurance athletes train 10-12 sessions and 15-30 h each week. Is the pattern of 80 % below and 20 % above lactate threshold appropriate for recreational athletes training 4-5 times and 6-10 hours per week? There are almost no published data addressing this question. Recently Esteve-Lanao (personal communication) completed an interesting study on recreational runners comparing a program that was designed to reproduce the polarized training of successful endurance athletes and compare it with a program built around much more threshold training in keeping with the ACSM exercise guidelines. The intended intensity distribution for the two training groups was: Polarized 77-3-20 % and ACSM 46-35-19 % for Zones 1, 2, and 3. However, heart-rate monitoring revealed that the actual distribution was: Polarized 65-21-14 % and ACSM 31-56-13 %.

Comparing the intended and achieved distributions highlights a typical training error committed by recreational athletes. We can call it falling into a training intensity “black hole.” It is hard to keep recreational people training 45-60 min a day 3-5 days a week from accumulating a lot of training time at their lactate threshold. Training intended to be longer and slower becomes too fast and shorter in duration, and interval training fails to reach the desired intensity. The result is that most training sessions end up being performed at the same threshold intensity. Foster et al. (2001b) also found that athletes tend to run harder on easy days and easier on hard days, compared to coaches' training plans. Esteve Lanao did succeed in getting two groups to distribute intensity very differently. The group that trained more polarized, with more training time at lower intensity, actually improved their 10-km performance significantly more at 7 and 11 wk. So, recreational athletes could also benefit from keeping low- and high-intensity sessions at the intended intensity. 

Dark thoughts for this time of the morning but I get the gist and confess to falling into the training intensity black hole ending up doing everything half-assed (ie in the middle).

My deep research (google) indicates there seems to be some debate on which burns fat better, Long Slow Duration (or Distance) LSD or intense cardio like intervals. I'm not sure I care and both camps have good points. For me I'm putting increasing focus on sitting on a itsy-bitsy bike saddle for eight hours in August for fun! So the less pounds I place on my derriere the better for all of us. Right now I'm just checking to see if I can turn a bike crank for forty-five minutes in a very controlled environment while maintaining an HR around 70% of my estimated maxHR. Turning said crank for eight hours on some hellish August day is still a big TBD.

I glance over at IronMan, at least I'm better off than that poor bastard. He's hammering the treadmill and pushing metal and God knows what since he's staring down the barrel of day two of eight hour meetings. He has Friday infront of him too, for more of the same. I sooooo wish I had a video of his epic struggle for consciousness which I'm guessing will start right after lunch. I bet he's gonna look like some sort of hapless prizefighter right after getting clocked, "OH OH He's DOWN! He's fighting to get up, fighting to stay awake... NOPE It's all over folks!" I swear that would be all over YouTube.

I give him some pointers on trying to stay awake during Mark or Mary Monotone's big presentation. Little tricks like sticking your hand into a steaming cup of coffee. There's nothing like a nice second degree burn to keep your mind off dozing (I didn't mention the fall back plan of just pouring the fresh cup on his lap, he wasn't ready for that).

I also told him to bring in a big water jug and drink it (for the potty breaks).

He's looking at me closely on the bike, unsure of my sincerity. He kind of chortles and wanders off.

Newbie.

I'm deadly serious and IronMan will know this about 1:30pm when he suddenly realizes that no matter how he sits, or squirms or doodles he's going down to napland. Poor baby. First his eye blinks will get longer and he'll start to daydream. Then his eyes will snap open in alarm a few times with a nervous glance around the room hoping no one has caught him sorta kinda dozing. But he'll return to his daydream, his growing relaxation because anywhere is better than where he's currently at...

until...

ZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

He's doomed. It's a lot like drowning.

Zone 3.2? How'd that happen? It must be my latest American Idol rendition of Zombie. I back off the resistance and try and bring my HR down because that's the trap of these LSD adventures. You want to suffer so you should hammer the pedals harder! Nope, nope. One must pace oneself, take it easy. Savor the 'wait' of it.

It's not all about suffering, well except for IronMan. Back to the bike and my deep, deep thoughts...

Have It All

This picture troubles me, it's rife with indecision that currently grips the Republic. I can see the marketing on this one.

Mellisa stands near the doorway and sighs heavily. Her significant other glances up from his Blackberry, "Why the long face snuggle bunny?"

"I just can't decide if I should run or bike today. I think I'm going to just quit exercising all together, what's the point? There are just too many options."

"Why not do both?"

"Both?! Carl! You must think I some sort of hippo!" Mellisa starts rooting through her purse for her snub nosed 38, figuring that insensitive lout Carl deserves a round or two in his kneecap.

"Not in the slightest, darling. I mean both AT THE SAME TIME!!!"

Then the usual marketing spiel about how you can loose weight just by looking at the thing and blah, blah, blah, but the main point is Carl isn't in the hospital. The fact that this thing was even brought out of the ether and into reality just sets my mind spinning.

What's it meeeannnnnnn????

End of times. Has to be. If this woman isn't one of The Four Riders of the Apocalypse then... well... she should be! How do you un-see something like this? I just can't figure out the why of it and the knowledge that there are now treadmill bicyclists jogging(?) through parks is having an adverse effect on my psyche.

THIS is the reason I've been dogging it for the last two days at the gym! ::tries to look convincing::

I've puttered in there and goofed around my mind in conflict. I'm over-educated, that's the problem. I've been reading about bikes and off-season training and LSD and... and... I just don't know what to do! OK?!

The HELL that is HEAT or LSD and bike specific weight training? Both? I can't have it all.

Scarlet got it right, "Oh I can't think about this now! I'll go crazy if I do! I'll think about it tomorrow."