End of...a very long year.

I'm finding it hard to sum up 2015 concisely, since the primary focus (which I'm naturally, quite happy about.) for approximately 2/3rds of it was:

THE WEDDING!!!

You're hearing this guy in your head, aren't you

I proposed back in January, and from there it was a whirlwind of planning, trips to see dear friends on the West Coast, another stay in Vegas, another St. Patty's 7K, more wedding planning, seeing some theater and some great movies, more work, more podcasting, more work at the Caves, more more KARATE!  By late June, I had my black belt.

Pictured:  The self-defense portion of my test.

So that was a long time coming.  Meanwhile, there were cabin trips, road trips to visit my girl when  it was her turn to be up in the Midge at the PBP, re-acquainting with old friends, bachelor parties, MOAR trips to Vegas (for work, no less.), my first BIG GAY MARRIAGE of my best friend, work stress, Halloween madness, Thanksgiving at my in-laws, out of town trips with buddies, visits from out of town guests, a little movie about the War in the Stars, the in-laws adopting a doggie, annnnnnnnd the Holidays.

But with all that, came a lot of stress-balling.  With stress comes exhaustion- we slept through a majority of our honeymoon, I ended up with some boo-too neck and back problems along with my general aches and pains from so much kung-fu'ing.  Mom's still illin', to the point where the big C is almost on the back burner as her body heals.  There've been some terrible, terrible losses this year, seeing some dear friends depart who were just too, too young.  We've had other close friends move away, other friends who are in pain or struggling a lot, and some pretty turrible tragedies throughout the world and the nation that can break your heart.

And good Gods...the talking political heads...I'm not naming names, but the normal shit show has turned into something frightdiculous to hear and behold.

Seriously.  Between the Pyramid grain silos, Xenophobia/Racism, and playground antics...I'm shutting down, kids.

So...I'm not gonna talk about that stuff, aka my bullshit resolutions that I never follow, or my silly plans for the upcoming year...all that I'm gonna try to keep loose so I don't feel disappointed.  Yes, there'll be races and karate and a full honeymoon overseas, and helping mom, and projects and visits to Camp Awesome and the Finch Nest in 'Sconnie and new friends in the neighborhood and all that.

But if you're a regular reader of this here blog, or a new reader, or just someone who doesn't mind seeing another regular Joe's take on naivety/wishful thinking...take heart:

I have a big wish for the people in my sphere.  Worldwide or nationwide, really.  But I'd be just as happy if this happened on a smaller scale and rippled outward.  2016 is an election year, and since I tend to be an anticipater of vertain events, I don't think that it's too far-fetched to believe this year is also going to be a pretty rough/less unifying one along with more and more hurtful division.  (Yes.  The present GOP and NRA are big fucking problems.)

Within the last few weeks, I've heard some people on social media as well as here at work say they don't like talking to their neighbors or avoid it outright.  So my wish is for kindness.  I wish for thoughtfulness.  I wish for people to reach out to people.  Engage.  The cashier.  The stranger.  The neighbor.  The family.  Without pause or question.  Make yourself available to the world.  Don't turn your back on others, which is like turning your back on life.  Don't worry.  Be amazed at people being shocked by being forward and bold and generous with it.

Allow yourself to find new opportunities and not lament what you don't have- because you probably have more than you think.  Which is probably impossible.  Because I'd be asking for people to log off Facebook and turn off the TV.  But I think that's an optimistic wish.  And after a pretty hectic year, I think people can get back in touch with being kind again.

Bring it, 2016.  I'm in martial spirits, chauffeuring my mom for New Year's, have gigs and travel plans, and a supportive and loving spouse.  Let's just get that blood pressure and cholesterol down and we're solid.

Star...Mers...something...

Today, social media has been choc-a-bloc full of stories about people's 1st experience seeing Star Wars.  I feel like I've told *everyone* who will listen to my experiences with the universe Lucas spun out (and his wife loomed into a cohesive story, natch.).  3.  I was nearly 4 when we went to the old Brookdale Cinema (which became a Kohl's) and, if my folks recollection is to be believed, sat through it.  Twice.*

From there, we gobbled up everything Star Wars.  The accompanying picture-book and reel-to-reels from the Hennepin County Library with the images of Luke's best friend who didn't make it in the theatrical cut- and who eventually became the nick-namesake of my big brother.  We had the over sized comic book, sheets, posters, glasses from Burger King, and naturally...lots and lots of action figures.

The chasm between the films seem massive, and as soon as we could we were saving proof-of-purchases from the boxes so we could send away for "Bossk", and the mystery figure who would become Boba Fett. (My god, the rumor that his jetpack could FIRE A MISSLE?  Only to hear urban legends of choking hazards and stripping our fingers trying to get it out.)  When the "Empire" magazine came out, we were treated to behind the scenes images from the new movie.  Wintry landscapes?  Luke uses his lightsaber?  And our first word of the rumor...that you'd SEE Darth Vader with his MASK OFF...and the playground rumor mill was that it was SO GROSS that people were THROWING UP!!!

We waited in line for what felt like FOREVER outside of this theater in B.C.

And our minds were blown.  From there, we started making playsets since the number of toys were getting to be prohibitive for my mom to keep up with...

Look, the point is- like EVERYONE the Star Wars films have been ingrained in my DNA.  In our guts.  It's why we have imagination- running around with flashlight/lightsabers...turning the 'Bago into the Falcon.  It's where I first saw loss and the possibility of return, how irredeemable people can turn into your best friend, how bad guys are so much more complicated.

Even as a big kid.  How *hasn't* being in karate, or kendo, or fencing, or anything been influenced by what we saw as kids.  How it was important to be a *good* guy.  How it's a bad idea to get stuck in a garbage chute with a dianoga?  To have faith in something you can't see.  I'm not entirely unsurprised our folks pulled us out of church not too long afterwards.  (There were some extenuating circumstances, but it's fun to think it's because The Force was strong in our family.)

So I've been going to midnight showings of Star Wars since about 1980 or so.  And the last time was in 2005 (where I blogged about it) with a group of like minded geeks who all cheered as soon as "A Long Time Ago, in a Galaxy Far, Far Away..." came on screen.  And tonight, I'll be going early early with one of the members of that group.  And am hoping the nostalgia will make me feel a fraction of my age.

May the Force be with all 4 of my readers.  And enjoy your first screenings.  I'm betting I'mma go back and see it again.



*During Father's Day, many years ago, I was having lunch at my brother's house where he was hosting with his wife and we all (Mom, Ro, his weef, and I) matriculated into the TV room since there was a showing of "Star Wars" on channel 9.  Dad meandered in while we were all zombie-ing out, and he muttered: "God dammit.  I should have NEVER taken you boys to see that movie..."

Well THAT happened...(TLDR- Check out the bottom for my vows)

So, okay.  I suck.  Right?  6 months since my last post?  What's up with thaaaaat?  Well...I've had some...things...come up.

I probably should have blogged about this, but after 17 years I found I was at a loss for words.  Also, after the test was over I found myself at a loss for breath.  Because Old Dot Com.

Ok....black belt?  Check...what else?

"And then the gays got married...and the seas boiled, and the sky fell, the dead rose from the...that didn't happen.  Just a whole lot of blubbering from yours truly and his other BFF who never cries.

Whatever.  My BFF was trying to steal our thunder.  What else is new?  Um...clever gif time...

That's right.  As soon as that ring goes on, I disappear...Ladies...

Yasssssss, Gaga, yassssss... Postle the Younger, 2nd of his name, had an ring placed upon it.

"MY WIFE!!!"- ("I don't think anyone remembers the Borat reference"- My actual wife.)

September 12th, we done did it.  In 11 years of blaugging I hadn't clue one this was ever going to be in store for me, but life's little surprises are what makes it fun.  Gorgeous day.  Surrounded by friends and family.  Couldn't have asked for a better day.  Or exhausting.  I've learned a few things- 1) is that the 8 months between the proposal and actual day flew by incredibly fast.  2) MORE people seemed to care about THIS life event than my BIRTHDAY (I'll find them.  All of them) and lastly 3) Next to moving from one place to another without actual movers, childbirth, and watching more than 2 minutes of Fox News with the sound off...it was really tiresome.  You think all lah-de-dah honeymoon is going to be HOT, when we actually slept through 60% of it.  Hashtag necessary.  And I came back home only to turn around and abandon my wife for an overdue work trip.

So now, it's all key parties and pot pies (the former is a joke that I know will/has worn out faster than my joking that I'd like a threesome with an open-minded girlfriend for my birthday.  I digress.)...but lest you think this isn't going to be about me, I did want to let you know the final tally (as of now) was about a total loss of bodyweight at around 30 lbs.  Nothing to scoff at, but I'd been hoping to get down past Cruiserweight and to about Light-Heavyweight.  There's still time.  Pressure's off.  However, by way of comparison and showing WHY exactly I was overweight and not fitting into any of my nice clothes...well...here's the tape:

Yeeeeeeah...I was busy with Fringe Festival or something in 2014...yeaaaaaah.  Not visiting Chipotle for the umpteenth time or anything.



If you're wondering, a lot of that was walking.  And no, I didn't watch a lot of TV or binge watch Netflix like I had hoped.

 

Neat?  Oh, we wrote our own vows.  I probably talked myself through 28 versions before hitting the deadline with our pastor, and even then I re-wrote it at the last minute: 

Mikey’s Vows (9/12/2015)

Today, I marry my best friend.  Wait.  No I won’t.  Because that’d mean even though it’s currently legal in MN it’d be one of you guys, (Gesture to Adam, Steve, Ryan, and Ro) and I’m sorry but you’d probably drive me crazy within 2 days or less.

Brevity isn’t my strong suit.  So I’ll try and keep this brief- (You a-holes better laugh)

From when we first started dating, I think there was an established frustration at what you probably thought was me dragging my feet.  I know that I didn’t really do much to help to alleviate that image- but the truth of the matter is that your deep well of patience has led us here.  To me, that’s the most important.  Because when you have something seems that’s too good to be true, I would sometimes worry that the other shoe will drop or that I need to hold on as tight as you I can so that magic never leaves me.  I stalled a little.  And it’s with that, that I’m gonna make some quick promises to you:

-I promise your family that I will care for their firstborn, their big sister, the granddaughter/niece and best friend(s) for now through always. In good times, and not so great times. (Check to see if you made Amy or any of R's family cry)

-I promise you that I will treat you with the love, sensitivity, loyalty, and respect I learned from my family and friends standing up for me today. (Most of my relations won't be crying.  We're not Amish, but c'mon.  Emote.  Don't leave me hanging up here.)

-I PROMISE that I’ll make mistakes.  I’ll say the wrong thing.  (I always do) I’ll leave the seat up. (Edit: SHE always does and I worry the cat'll fall in, but if you forget to say anything you won't regret it.) But I will always try and learn and remember to be better for you the next time.

-I promise I won’t call Groucho “Your Cat” when his litter box is full and I won’t get upset when you re-fold the laundry I had just folded “correctly”.  (Pause.  Are they breathing?  Is mom giving me the "hurry up" look yet?)

-I promise I’ll always try to do my best.  (Too Boy-Scouty?)

 

Last big promise, Rachel Mary, and this is the easy one- I promise to hold you up, to make you laugh almost every day and even through your tears, and to love you as deeply as you have loved me: To the moon and back- and from the bottom of my heart.

I love you, Ranch.  My loving pancake bride.

Fit Bit for a Batty Fatty

"You have huge fingers"- Big Brother Ro

So let's see...

In the last six point five months, I've switched my position on going for walks on my breaks and lunches versus staying stationary for 8+ hours a day.  I've stopped eating out/dining at buffets 2-3 x's a week and am eating fruits and veggies and keeping my calories down and counted via MyFitnesspal.  I'm at karate and fighting 3-4 x's a week and on track to get my black belt in June.  And I've recently (after my last weigh-in which...uh...didn't go so great.) started getting my running miles and resistance/weight work up again.  (Seriously.  After not having worked out my chest/back outside of push-ups for 6 months, I'm terrified at the lactic acid pain to come.)

Seriously.  I haven't been on a bench since I rejoined my gym last October.

And so now I have a FitBit.  The same device I had previously made fun of other friends (and my fiancée') about.   (To my friends: "Have you ever wore it while having sex to count the steps/calories?" To my fiancée: "Can you wear it while we have sex to count the steps/calories?!"...hey.  Everyone has their kinks.)  Now, I am one of the unwashed smug masses with their rubbery wristbands with Cylon-like blinky light gauge.

My face, whenever people used to talk about Fit Bits, Power-walking,  CrossFit, Kale, Organics, Mixed-Martial Arts, Fasting, etc etc...see where I'm going?

For those who don't know, basically the Fit Bit tracks your steps during the day.  (So it's a pedometer? Yes.  And no.)  When you hit a "steps" landmark, a light blinks on.  When you surpass 10,000 steps it buzzes. And...look, here's what's what:  It holds you accountable.  That's important.

Like I learned last Fall, sitting on your ass all day then going for a run isn't going to cut it in the long term.  Why 10,000 steps?  Well, scientifically that was an arbitrary figure.  The CDC et.al recommends 7,000-8,000 of brisk walking (150 minutes of moderate aerobic activity a week) and the bottom line it's to make sure you don't remain sedentary for extended periods- which leads to circulatory/coronary issues.  Gotta pump the bellows or the fire goes out, dig?

Ring my beeelllllllll...ring my bell.

"But Mikey?  Doesn't your Iphone (prounced like "Hyphen") come with a built in device that does the same thing?"  The app with the little heart?  Well, what I've learned since my fiancée surprised me with the Bit is that it does measure steps, while I'm pretty sure the metrics measured on my phone is more in tune with stride.  (I tried it jogging in place and pacing around my Kitchen/Dining/Living Room.  The Fat Bat caught every step.) Anyway, I was all "I'm walking 5 miles a day at work!"  and it's more like 3 plus change.  And trust me, I make it a point to walk a lot.

Look, I've at least stopped posting ad nauseum about running and shit. I'm walking at work now, walking's cool.

It also gauges sleep (a fellow co-worker finds that to be horseshit, but based on the past few night's I've wore it to bed I'd probably agree) and the app/website let's you set weight loss goals, track activities, track food/calories...Look, I already ditched Dailymile so I think I'm sticking with MapMyRun to gauge activity and MyFitnessPal for my foods.  So, all that being said...why did you feel like you were stuck?  Wellllll...that's the last hurdle for buddies.  See, I?  I, am a man who drinks.

Without getting into the particulars that you already know, I've been saying it for months and I just need to chillax and do it.  I'm gonna give up the booze for a minute.  Meaning I'mma try going through the Summer without having my daily "pop".  (I can drain a lot of pinot noir, kids.  And with a bottle being over 400 calories?  Yeah.  Don't need it.)  AND I have engagement pictures coming up and that'll just give me a puffy face.  AND doctor visits.  AND it helps you sleep better!

AND really?  I won't beat myself up.  It's Summer, and camp Awesome is where folks go to have fun.  So, y'know, for those late Summer nights of skinny dipping?  Hopefully there'll be a lot less of me to see.  A lot. Less.

In short, Fit Bit.  It's fun for buddies and makes you feel guilty for not moving your butt.  Let's go streaking.

You're welcome

Dusting off the high kicks

One...one cool picture of me in karate mode.

So I'm still hitting karate consistently.  I've manage to table just about every extra curricular activity (shows, run training, etc.) in order to focus on obtaining my black belt this year.  I've got my brown/black stripe, so next it's the Oreo belt (AKA candidate belt/Black Belt with white stripe) and then take the test.  It's probably the most focused and consistent I've gone to karate since the late nineties/early-aughts when I was single, not doing a lot of theater, and young.  Now I'm actually studying curriculum, doing the class requirements, and the one thing I was reminded of:  I'm required to start fighting again on the regular.

As I said- once upon a time I would spar 2-3 x's a week.  Brooklyn Center on Fridays, Bloomington on Wednesdays, Plymouth on Tuesdays.  TGI Fridays or Applebees afterward.  It was good times.  I wasn't *good*, mind you.  (That was big brother and the rest of the Nationally ranked "Icemen")  But I was going and progressing and having a ball.   Then...a bunch of stuff diminished that drive.   And the dreaded family foot-drag befell me.  There were some other reasons...

My involvement in theater and film was one.  I was fortunate enough to get some well-paying gigs that I couldn't say "no" to.  Like the above picture, occasionally I'm able to blend those worlds together.  (Sheeeeit.  Time was I thought the only show I'd be cast in was where I was 1- a fight donkey and 2- non speaking.) Rehearsals at *night* meant slavering away in a dark theater whenever I could have been at class.

And then...my problem with the ladies.  Around that time, I dated a woman who was a pretty big gunner and was auditioning like a fiend.  I hadn't adopted my "take long breaks and see who calls you to work" mentality.  (Mixed with my current "Make sure you list your conflicts on audition sheets so you have time for you, aka Karate") When you're being advised that you NEED to go Equity you chase a lot of professional theater gigs, and karate gets set aside as a silly hobby.  So it became a "thing" where I'd talk myself out of going on my free nights in order to stay home.  (I was asked if I wanted to do "Tae Bo" tapes with her...and I was all like...um, no.  She was also the one who told me my stomach stuck out when I was doing slow kicks at home, soooooo...bye.)  Mikey finds more excuses.

My 1st year as a homeowner I was so mired in projects that I literally did *nothing* else but work and work on the house.  Sometimes I'd get on a streak, get injured and talk myself out of going back until I felt better.  Or hit sparring, fight a thumper who didn't have control, and stop going.  Funny thing though- when I went through a pretty emotional end of a relationship, it was karate that got me through it.  Sparring on Sunday nights at karate junction, heavy conditioning drills and the like put my head in a clearer space.

When I started going again in earnest, I hazarded my first sparring class in probably 5 years and *royally* f#cked up my leg.  And that was a little over a year ago.  My head wasn't in it.  At all.  The taste/fun was somehow diminished and diluted and for me, that was fine.  (I like doing form and self-defenses anyway)

My point- in order to get my black belt I need to fight.  I don't even have to hit the tourney's to "represent" my school like the old days or be a corner judge.  Just attend sparring regularly and not have it be to just fulfill the requirements.  A few weeks ago after getting my brown/black stripe by a happy accident,  the schedule was changed and they added sparring during one of my normal curriculum class.  (I was just glad I had my cup and mouthguard with me) And suddenly, I was back in it.  And it was fun as hell.

I mean, I'm still punching fodder for people while I try to shake the dust off and jump start muscle memory, and gods know I am FAR away from my old fighting shape.  But I had forgotten how much of a great work out it is and how FUN it can be.

Big brother asked me nearly 17 years ago when I was hemming and hawing over transferring my 9 month "Red Belt" program to a lifetime "Masters" program:  "Mikey, do you think you'll actually *go*?"  A legit question.  I thought of it as a challenge and signed up anyway.  Yes.  Yes I would.  Then, 3 years ago my instructor called me in to his office to ask me what I was doing.  (Meaning- "Why are you coming here when you've been parked at red belt for 10 years?")  And like that, I made it a point to be on my way.  Challenge accepted.

Hopefully, the next time I post anything about karate it'll be after the big black belt exam.  I went to the last one to cheer/audit, and the doability of it makes me pissed that I hadn't made the effort over the last 17 years.  I could be a 4th degree by now.  Teaching, even.  Anyway.  No time like the present.  I just hope I keep a realistic attitude, get a little better with every class, and don't kill myself.  So far so good.  I hurt like a bitch, am pushing through it, and taking LOTS of Ibuprofen.

Because while I kind of like to think I look like this?

It's actually a lot more like this:

Well this *is* exciting.

Did you know there's an actual term for dudes that want to look like ripped athlete's or p0rn stars (versus the mega buff body-builder heroes and wrestlers of the 80's) and they're called "Spornosexual's"?  I think my old man would call them vain or even worse: "Cream Puffs".  (My old man used to rip on my affinity for hitting the weights.  Usually when breaking my back doing manual labor for him, like uprooting trees with a metal pry bar or sawing through a backyard apple tree- not with a chainsaw or appropriate tool...but with a small triangle saw.  "THAT'S how you get MAN MUSCLES, Mikey!!!  NOT from the Nautilus or whatever jungle gym you play on at the Y!!!"

In other news, do Nautilus...Nautilii...are they even around any more?  I remember we had to go through a 2 hour training session just to use the stupid crap, and the equipment was treated with the kind of reverence reserved for delicate antiquaries.  Ironic.)


Where was I?  Oh yes...marriage...

To my Waffle Wedded Wife

It's pretty comical (to me) that 10 years after starting this here old blog- a blog which was originally set to document 1st time homeownership (primarily) and other frass (calling myself dysmorphic nicknames/lifting weights) that I'd be using it as a pulpit with which to announce my engagement to my newest roommie Ranch.  The whole story is more fun when told in person, and there's a library of photos out on FB, but to sum up:  A few weeks back she made me laugh a lot over dinner.  I'd been sitting on the ring for a couple months "waiting for the right moment" (ouch), and while we were joking over the dinner table...she called me on my bullshit.  And so very casually?  I asked her.  She didn't say "Yes" right away, she actually said "Are you SERIOUS?!?!" to which I told her I probably had the receipt for it somewhere before she pulled it away from me in a very protective manner.

Something like this...hey hey hey LOVE YA, HONEY! 

Anyway, surprise!  Right?  Considering my hardline stance in opposition of my getting married for nearly 10 years, (as well as speaking up for the rights of *everyone* being able to get married.) the surprise was mainly on me.  But that's neither hither nor thither at this point.  What in the natural f#ck did that opening paragraph have to do with the fact that we basically planned our wedding/venue/guest lists/catering in what can only be considered a world record?  (10 days from the engagement, friends.  BOOM! Adding to the list of other bullshit I occasionally get called on*, my request to "enjoy" our engagement for a few weeks before going wedding crazy was vetoed in lieu of taking care of the practical matters- such as the aforementioned venue/caterer which apparently can be hard as hell to secure in advance. 

I surprised myself further by agreeing to take care of that business sooner rather than later- effectively stifling my normal foot-draggishness, and we pretty much had it nailed down by February 1st.  So?  My advice, which is cobbled from other's advice?  Give yourself a 6 month window from when you propose so you don't overthink it, keep things local, and occasionally give in to closing your eyes and jumping.  Occasionally.)  So yeah.  We got the date we decided on through a miracle.  They told us there were people planning to use the venue into 2017!!!

Pictured: What happened to me when talking about how much a wedding photographer can cost, as well as pricing out some more "popular" Twin City venues.  It's a racket, is what I'm saying.  And a place that sounds like the "Pill Smitty Peuseum" will attempt to bankrupt you before you say "I do".  The more you know...

Well...Like I mentioned last month I've re-examined some fitness/health goals of mine.  And while I'm not groom-zilla, both the fiancée and I have agreed to do this *thing* together and whip ourselves into shape.  She knows about my desire to take the stress off of my heart, blood pressure, and body and lose 30 pounds (it's necessary), and she told me she'd like to lose weight in order to feel good on our magic day.  The caveat?  Is that what we do to get there has to be sustainable. 

As you know, I started walking while I was at work back in October.  You'll be pleased to know I've maintained that- in spite some extreme temperature dips.  (It took some mental prep.  Below zero isn't a time of year you wanna schlep outside, especially with slippery ground.)  The second step was a doozy since it meant I needed to re-examine the kind of fuel I put in my body.  Like I said before, it was just too much.  Not necessarily *bad*, just *a lot*.  Which- if this seems familiar to you-stop it:  I was putting away a take-out box from the buffets probably twice a week.  Not to mention going back for 2nds at dinner nightly.  Portion control, as it turned out, wasn't as bad as I thought.  As was stopping myself from leaving the office to get food over lunch.  (A 20 minute power walk has taken it's place.)  I 86'd the 3...5... okay FINE!!!  Up to 8 hardboiled eggs I was munching at breakfast with something a trifle more responsible.

 

 

My arsenal to take the edge off.

 

 

Lunch is a pretty simple affair too, being either low-to-no carbs and either a pair of plain veggie burgers or a nice brothy homemade soup with lots of veggies and tofu.  We're back on to making dinner's/lunches, but with the exception is I'm doing the whole portioning thing and skipping the "run back into the kitchen and making that pad Thai DISAPPEAR" diet...I've also been trying out the Fast Diet , in addition to tracking everything from food to working out on Myfitnesspal.com.  (Like I needed another website to track my s#it.)  Oh...and I weighed myself the other day and since working on the portion sizes and not eating out all the time?  Managed to drop about 12 lbs with a little bit of effort.

 

A larger drawback?  Besides feeling SO F#CKING HUNGRY and missing take out chana masala?  Your friend Mikey got himself sick as hell for a second time within a month back in January. 

Just like that.  Started the 2nd week of the year bedridden and feverish, and in spite of having broke the fever and being on the mend it's the persistent nose leakage and sore throat that's bothersome.  I've *just* started to get back into running/lifting/HIIT-ing (focusing the workouts in general) and also back to karate for the 1st time in nearly a month, which I HATED to miss what with the whole "Getting my black belt" goal.  And while I haven't dropped weight as fast as I had in college (I'm still getting a physical in March, which'll hopefully mean I'm below 200lbs.) I can probably blame the wine for the superfluous calories.  That, and a vacation where in spite of packing (too many) work-out clothes?  We both just said "F#ck it" and decided we'd enjoy ourselves.  Because vacation.

It was like this.  Only...like this.  With awesome Hollywood Mexican cuisine.

So that's where we are.  For her part, she's hired a personal trainer to help her with some new HIIT workouts to mix it up a little.  I've signed up for some races, have started back into run training in earnest, and am hungry, my babies.  No seriously, I want all the food.  Oh, and in a rare feat we're both helping each other with skipping the weekday alcohol drinking and saving it for the weekends.  (We'll see how that makes us feel after I shitty day at work. )  There you go.  Sustainable.  Nothing crazy**.  And if I read about spornosexuals 15 years ago I'd have probably rolled my metrosexual eyes back in my head.  Seriously.  "Sporn"...like you're getting plastic utensils at a XXX Kentucky Fried Chicken.


More news to follow.  Your support, as always, is appreciated.

*I have fond memories of occasionally calling my dad on his Bullshit.  Nothing hurtful or mean, but it was more like recognizing that dad's comments and ideas and instructions were occasionally fallible, and then watching him get frustrated when I would see how amusing his reaction was...and laughing at the situation would usually diffuse the argument.  Especially when you do it in front of family.  ("No, dad.  I'm not painting *wrong*.  Brush. Paint. Surface...what are you, Mr. Frickin' Miyagi?!?!?!  You're left-handed for God's Sake!!!"  <---true friends.="" p="" story="">
**Nothing crazy at all.