B4/After

pictured: Screaming agony at mile 9. Empty water. Short-circuited MP3. And a GU packet sticking my tongue to the roof of my mouth...And who taught me how to put on a bandana?(6/2010)

Pictured: Banana-rexia and a better soundtrack (7/2011) Just keep runnin'...

rantrantrant...

Did you guys know that I work out? Little known fact. Try and eat light and healthy. Run. Karate. Lift weights. Take frequent cat-naps. All that shit. I'm also fairly well-read on those aforementioned subjects. Not surprisingly, I can confidently speak to the fact that I have a good frame of reference if one were to broach the topic of, ohhhhh, fad diets.

Now before you click away to TMZ or whatever, hear me out: I've frassed to you about supplements, stupid fitness rags and their tendency to regurgitate the same kind of article every other month wedged in with the newest trendy fitness routines. (Yoga! Pilates! Kickboxing! Tae-Bo! Tae 90X! Pil-boxing! Yoga Jumproping!) I'll frass about books I've read and either glommed some sort of benefit about or books that I don't think have a metric shit ton of merit.

Go on. Google search "stretching before running?" The links go on like a high school debate. ("Yes you should!" "No you shouldn't!" "You'll live!" "YOU'LL DIE!!!" For the record? And for fact? I don't think that stretching out before any exercise is a bad idea. At all. ) In fact, most diet advice that doesn't come from a professional tends to lean toward the stupid, contrary, muddled, and passionate- for all the wrong reasons. Best person to talk to about your health and fitness? A doctor. Unquestionably.

Recently a friend of mine visited a place where the newest fad diet program is offered (which is to say it's a new South Beach/Atkins knock-off) which tries to emulate our hunter gatherer meals from Captain Caveman-y times. I read over the haves and have nots and did some quick research...and while I "get" it and wanted to sound supportive? My Spider-Sense was still tingling. Basically you eat nothing BUT meat. No pasta. No Refined sugar. One "cheat" day...(I hate that term, btw. I've said it before, yeah. And I've used it as an excuse to eat like shit. I still hate it) And no fucking legumes? Hoooookay. I can see how this'd appeal to people looking for something to, you know, work. Somehow.

Now lest you think I'm ass-talking, I've seen people who have experienced success with Atkins et.al. The were admittedly overweight, and by kiboshing the carbs and (wait for it...) moderating their remaining portions they were able to get their bodies to go catabolic and burn off the solid fuel they'd been carrying. (Although, friends, before you attack that steak-a-week diet in earnest, keep in mind these friends experienced a marked decrease in energy. And after seeing a doctor for a mid-Atkins check up? A marked increase in cholesterol) And so whatever, what's my point? 70 years ago cigarettes were supposed to aid digestion and "relax the throat". What's the big deal with this one?

Well...

This friend tells me that the initial consultation/2 hour introductory meeting included a couple of wires being attached to them and getting a body comp analysis. Fine. Understanding that next to water immersion I think that the electric jolt is a fairly accurate method to get your body fat percentage. Except THIS test also gave a laundry list of horse shit. Something about their cell/electrolyte catalyst being pretty bad yadda yadda and being a good candidate for the program. Right. Next we'll try this phrenology machine that strongly resembles a collander pot to ascertain your aura balance.

One of the other "rules" of this "diet" was no running. This made me want my friend to question them on the idea that human beings evolved to be runners, or if they'd ever heard of the concept of "persistance running" which anthropologists have speculated might have been how our hunting-gathering ancestors tracked down faster prey? (To be fair, according to their program periodic 10 minute sprints were okay. I started to honestly wonder if this practically non-existent fitness routine that was meant to compliment the diet was designed by a 4th grader during track and field day. Next up! Monkey bars and vigorously run backwards up the slide until the teacher aides give you a time-out!) Looking around the room, my buddy said they saw other people who were at that two-hour informational meeting that had the look of those who want this diet to work for them. An excitable prospect if you find it difficult to balance out that delicate teeter-totter of diet and exercise. And easy...excitable...prospect. Nothing but meat.

This all ended in their sending a politely worded email a day later declining the program and the eventual response from the meat-counselor strongly advising they reconsider as their findings after that initial electro-shock were startling bad for someone as young as they were. In other words, they tried a fucking fear-tactic to keep them on. And that is what really chaps my hide the most.

Going back 15 odd years, I had a friend whose mom sold high-end supplements. They had an entire kitchen cabinet filled to bursting with these pricey bastards, and I learned later that if they didn't make their sales quota- they had to buy their own product. This, is what my father reffered to as a "pyramid scheme". And although I felt it polite not to mention that lil' nugget to my friend, she railed on me for not taking more supplements. I explained that I sometimes did take supplements, recommended after I met with the dietician at the "Y" who also turned me on to the idea that: "if you have a well rounded diet and balanced, you should be getting all of the vitamins you need". And then they recommended a book. My old friend responded to this with "Well? How do you KNOW you're getting them? You DON'T!"

Point taken. In the meantime, enjoy your rich and dark urine and overworked kidney's.

Again...

I don't think a good health and wellness program entails a drill sergeant ala' "The Biggest Loser". And I don't think that the fad diets/routines are strictly speaking helping their cause by trying to rule through fear. A good coach/trainer/training partner/running partner whatever will encourage you and push you to do better. Do more reps. Go heavier. Be a spotter. Encourage you run another mile and not walk. Point out areas where you're dropping your guard hand or opening your mouth before you go to kick. (I did that. FYI.)

Barring that, they'll drop their drawers and moon you if they start running ahead of you. (That's my boy, Davey.)

Look...I say to you all how much I love my Veeb's and minimalist kicks and how they've helped my running. Great. For me. Sorry. That's my selfish Sally Self. What I'm not going to say is that you're stupid for not wearing them. Or that you're guaranteeing yourself injury if you don't wear them. Or if you eat a meat-heavy diet you'll DIE*! I honestly believe that you build up a resistance in your audience if you lay down some finite be-all end-all rule that must be adhered to. How arrogant must you be to have such absolute conviction in your product? Redick. I was tempted to say to my friend "Do the paleo-program, but see your personal physician for a physical first. Blood draws. Pee test. The works. And after the 60 days, go back and see how you fare." (Meanwhile, the mean part of me will be enrolling in another marathon and enjoying my Little Caesar Hot N Ready pizza when they come over. I am nothing if not cruel.)

Stupid diet....

"What's Up?" /Ohhhh, not mulch"

If you don't mind, I think I'm going to be done with the outdoor projects in 2011 (with the exception of the garden, lawn mowing, and plotting what plants I might wanna throw down.)

Yup. I gave myself a deadline this weekend to get the rest of the outdoor frass finished. Last weekend I made my 4 trips to the Home Depot to collect the last of the 100 or so bags of cedar mulch (they had a sale) so that's down. The rain barrel had been sitting by the side of the house looking forlorn so THAT needed installed. The paver block to line the walk way wasn't going to install itself so I had to get THAT in the ground. (To be fair, it would've been done two weekends ago. Except since I couldn't seem to figure out how to remove the correct amount of dirt, so it ended up being a lawn-chunk by lawn-chunk process.)


And did I mention it was f#ck all hot out? Yeah. As I stood in the shower rinsing the black dirt off and picking wood fragments out of the corner of my eye, I wondered why I was there and not with my friends frolicking in the river. As my co-worker exclaimed: "Were you high? You should have gone to the river". Good answer.

I'll let the pics speak for themselves. If anyone knows of any good ground scrubby kind of the "come-back" kind of plants, or knows something about landscaping to make it look pretty...well I wouldn't be adverse to the assistance. In case you're curious, this was all done this weekend.("Before" pics can be found in the archives here and here.)

Now isn't that inviting? Clean? Doesn't that make you just wanna grill? Take that, creeping Charlie. Pictured: Toil. And for the uninformed, the Mazda can fit 12 bags of mulch. 16 if I'm not worried about visibility.

A row O' hostas is begging to be planted here, don't you think? This part of the house gets d#ck for sunlight.

This will, I'm hoping, keep the rain from getting in the basement. The nice thing about chunking out all of that soil is there was plenty of dirt for assistance with grading. I admit, I got panicky and I've been stalling the install as it were since part of it required my cutting away a portion of the downspout. During this phase, I discovered that stucco siding is really good at exfoliating the skin from your knuckles.

More soil for grading. I found some moisture in the wine cellar and the only time I've ever taken in water is when a downpour knocked off the drain spout last year. I'm reminded of my home-inspector years ago, when he advised keeping the soil high here on the South side of the house to keep the basement dry. Good advice, that. A good idea to follow it occasionally, Michael. (Incidentally. The dirt was sitting in a light plastic "garden" barrow. Overnight. And then it rained. Do you know what's heavy? Mud.)

Transplants, courtesy of the Mel's via Moda. That's all I have right now. I'm taking more. Anyone? Backyard is clean and mulch-y, but pretty nekkid.

Re-painted the picnic bench. Go on. Imagine eating some steaming weinies...baked beans...that crappy yellow potato salad and some lemonade. Ugh. I just threw up in my mouth. (*Note, by "painting" I mean I dumped the paint on it and pushed it around with a brush until it was even-looking. This was the final project of the day, and the heat/humidity had me a little addled)

Table courtesy of A and D. I scraped it, then re-painted with this nice textured spray. Doesn't this help you envision polite discourse over mojito's?

This was a completely unnecessary project on my part. I don't know. My herb pots used to live on the picnic table so I had this idea that I could build a small "herb table" to live next to the garden. I had some superfluous lumber and some really, really weak building skills. After a few hours with the cutting, the drilling, the cussing, the new fixes I discovered while building...we have a reeeeeally ghetto herb bench.

Hot banana pepper. I picked up some new (sturdier) tomato cages but I'm still a little chafed that my garden feels like it's taking forever to grow. (Coupled with the fact that Moda and Cap't Dawn's bounty already looks edible) This is what I get for expanding the dumb thing. See why this year? This year? Is the last time I expand the stupid thing.

Flaky and slow. Just like me! We ended up finding two scapes that escaped our notice. (See what I did there?) It made for a delicious and pungent egg scramble mixed with some goat cheese. Slurp.

BOOM! Done...

Pictured: Ebullient Insanity. All smiles in the early miles.

Right. I think I'm gonna make people gag with a step-by-step recitive on the race. So I'll say this: I'm very glad I did it. I'm glad I was with my buddies early on. I'm glad my friends came out to cheer and D-Gangs was "on point", getting a ton of terrific photos/video. I'm glad Moda's folks were there to take some of the best race photo's I've seen of Team Awesome. I'm proud of the half-Mary "virgins" who ran their first. (And smoked the s#it out of the course. WHERE'S THE FIRE!?!) And I'm reeeeeeally proud of my new race shorts. They're very short.

Pictured: Crossing the finish. Everyone is looking away. Why? Because of what you don't see that's been cropped for decency purposes. Not pictured? Decency...and dignity.

FeeJ PR'd, Moda has a new itch to (someday) be a pacer in a more "official" capacity, and I managed to shave 11 seconds off of my own PR. (And wondering if I can run a sub-2:00 at the Monster Dash.) Which is weird, since I was going in to this thing suuuuper chill. It was just a joyful morning to be goofy and chatty and see what the body could do. I mean, it's weird...I was trying to drift off for a post-race snooze and my mind kept at it- "Was my pace off?" "Could I have turned it up earlier?" "I could do a Full-Mary". It's madness. Or the shorts. Probably the shorts.

Anyway, the worst part is that we're all hurting a bit after this one. Moda is still "technically" recuperating from G-Ma's two weeks ago. Both FeeJ and I are nursing a janky foot. And (on a strange note) I've had the s#ittiest sleep patterns. (I was dog-tired when I got home, and couldn't go back to sleep to save my life. And after a late night firework show, I tossed and turned aGAIN!)

So yeah. We'll be taking a few days off. Not too many, though. I'm really hoping to get back out for long runs with my buddies.

And we're running...again...

(pictured: Symbol of DC Superhero "The Flash". I've toyed with the idea of getting a bright red race outfit for visibility purposes and affixing this patch to the chest...then kiboshed it because I'm not very fast and...well he's just not my favorite superhero)

BOOM! Double Blaug!

Moda, Feej, and I will be running the Red, White, and Boom on 7/4. Because we're weird. And running a half-Mary on our day off seemed like a pretty good idea at the time. (You know? I dragged my feet on some weird tangent about how "it's right outside my back door" and "well why wouldn't I run a neighborhood race?" yadda yadda...it's just not happening. There's no real benign reason to be dragging our asses to the starting line at 6am. Oh wait...yes there is...) I had this funny scenario in my head where I'd drag my feet on running, then agree to crew FeeJ and Moda, then show up on race day taking off my hoodie to reveal MY RACE NUMBER!!!

Unfortunately, my evasiveness was viewed as more annoying than anything. That and they sniffed me out when the race numbers were made available online. So much for surprises, no matter how weak I make them.

Hey...anyone remember last year? When Moda was educating me about "Race Karma" and we volunteered for the R/W/B b/c it was so close to us? We ran the Lake Harriet 10K on July 3rd then went over to help unload the cup and water trucks for the beverage station? Man. That was a HOT day. And the very next day when we got up to go to our water station where we had volunteered behind the Quarry? And, and, and what did it do? Yeeeeeah.

P#ssing rain. At 7am. On 7/4. We stood there soggy in our makeshift garbage bag ponchos. And when the rain did clear? And the early a.m. heat showed up? Ssssssssteamy business, kids. Anyway, my point of this whiney tirade is that because every race I've done so far this year climatologically speaking has been an exact replica of 2010? I'm visualizing soggy bottoms for at least half of the run.

Which is to say that the weather's no big deal. What is a big deal is working through injury. And f#ck all it's getting in my brain and psyching me out. Last weekend I did an exploratory run of the course just to get more-or-less familiar with the terrain. We've all trod the area, and the Deming Heights hill (the "Hard" hill on the race) has been part of my training now for a few months- I've even gone so far as to mentally say "Hi" to it when I approach, hoping the Earth Gods ease the incline and carry me up the hill. Shut it. The rest of the weekend I did lawn work in my heavy leather "outdoor shoes", then woke up on Sunday with a foot that felt like it was caught in a bear trap. Nigh on unwalkable. Gimpy limp.

And I got worried. Here's the big drawback to minimalist shoes, frassers: As soon as you switch back to heavy soled shoes, you run the risk of injury. And since I've bitched about this before (so it shouldn't have been a big surprise)...I was hoping that it wouldn't be right before my next f#cking race. My last run a few days ago in my Free's (which I'm racing in) was a 6 mile exercise in pain. I switched to two "shorty" runs in my Veeb's which both felt better. (I won't even lie when I say I was considering racing the half-Mary in them. I just haven't put up the distance)

So after the improvement I've been experiencing this year, I'm feeling a little "back to square one"-ish. I've been re-reading "Born To Run" (Which you should all. read. Inspirational, Exciting, and Informative. Something for runners and non-runners alike. Truth) to keep me inspired and focused. But I'm approaching this race with more trepidation than I did the Mpls Half-Mary. And it's mostly pissing me off. Frass. I wasn't even hoping to PR this one. Just run a fun long-weekend race with buddies.

Frass N' Grumble.

Annnnnyway, as I polish of this glass of whine I'd like to (again) encourage you 4 readers to drag your butts out to NE Mipples this coming Monday to cheer the race if you can. I know that many of you don't get done puking until noon, but your support is nevertheless welcome and appreciated down to the soles of our feet.

Happy Fourth o' July, friends!