Adventures in Gymfail

(This is a new-ish segment.  I'm hoping that I'll experience interesting kerfluffles at my loving neighborhood gym that I can share with you...like today.)

1st off, I'm notorious about over-packing for trips and OCD about checking my gym bag the night before I leave for work in the a.m. not because I'm an Over-prepared Oliver Billy-Boy Scout.  It's because, gawdammit, I'm a Forgetful Francis.   And this is true, because over the last 5 years I've belonged to my gym I've forgotten a fresh pair of underwear no less than...a lot.  Okay?  I've just plum forgotten.

                                              (No, Sweet Brown.  Nobody does.  Fo Sho.)

Today, I had the luxury of the morning off and so I was able to piece my ensemble (always tastefully matching my bandana, shorts, AND wrist bands) prior to the gym- and in a moment of divine inspiration I decided to toss my work clothes in my bag and under-dress my ensemble.

Except...except except someone with two thumbs and half a brain didn't pack a work shirt.  That's right.  Mikey gets to the gym and realizes that he just has his tank top...which will eventually become sodden and soggy in the upcoming 75 minute workout.

Now...you might be thinking "So what?  You forget your man-ties and now you've forgotten a shirt.  Where's the headsmack graphic?"  Oh.  That's because I was waiting to tell you that squirreled away in the bottom of my gym bag next to my shaving kit in a veritable nest is the following:

• 2 extra pair of boxer briefs.
• 3 extra pair of socks.
• 1 pair of long underwear.
• 1 extra bandana/wrist guards wrapped together.

So...I have back up.  And I cleverly wonder if I can cobble together some Tom Hanks/Castaway refugee garment from the above.  I quickly realize...I can't.  Natch.

Now, lest you think I Weismuller'd out of there to make a beeline for my jacket I want to remind you that we are in Minnesota in February- which affords me the luxury of wearing my zippered hoodie 80% of the time.  You know?  Without a shirt?  Which, I'll be honest, feels weird.  The zipper.  On bare skin.  Like wearing shoes without socks or going commando.  Not "awful", per se.  Just unnatural.  I couldn't even pull off the "Wolverine in the basement of the X-Mansion" scene from the 1st X-Men movie?  Remember?

(There is a very legitmate fear of losing chest hair on the zipper.  Don't pretend this isn't a real thing.)

So...less like Wolverine, and more like an embarrassed Terminator.  Which nearly happened the time I almost bolted out of the Men's Locker Room bare-ass because I'd forgotten a script I was working on and my Ipod in the fitness area.

                                     (Nothing clean...riiiiiight.  Also, hello anorexic Geef.)


We can now add that one to the current list of gymfails that includes forgotten skivvies, too-small or disintegrating t-shirts, gassy treadmill runs, "sweating out toxins" the day after a gin-fueled bachelor party by sitting in the sauna and smelling like a liquor store, and forcing the staff to move the floor fans from the weight room to the Men's Locker Room bathroom suspiciously minutes after I used it and noticed a fellow gym member come in after me- do an about face with a stink eye- and then make them re-circulate the air.*

I'm surprised that with all of these stupid gymfails I haven't actually, you know, had an actual accident on a piece of equipment.  (Knocks on wood)

*I'm only slightly mortified that I shared that.  I could have been being paranoid, but no.  I own that.

The results are in!

I'm about to tell you a tale of the results of that 2012 Fitness Challenge I frassed about at the start of the year, here. For my friends who were really hoping the blog would be more "cat-centric", I'm sorry to report the kitties had to go back to their "real" dad. Also, for the visually stimulated among the lot of you- I apologize for no before or after pictures. My genial narcissism is tempered by my own self-consciousness/loathing...and dislike of topless photo's/photo's in general of myself. While I promise to keep this more factual than nauseatingly self-deprecating...I just think it'll be funnier if I tell it to you in...my own voice...Mostly, if you're interested in how the regime actually worked out for me.

Pictured: How I look at the end of a treadmill workout as I hang from the handrails- grimacing like I'm constipated and complete with a tubful of sweat, claws, and easily groomable body-hair.

Yesterday I was standing on the landing by the front door and rocking my winter running "costume" when I had an epiphany: While it is February...and stupidly balmy for MN...and there was really no reason I shouldn't go for a run...I actually said:

Fuuuuuck this.

And then I stripped out of my layers and crawled into bed for a power-nap. Do you know why? Because I was tired, and refused to feel guilty. And January is over, sucka's.

Not to put a fine a point on it- Le results, for the numerically saavy: (January 2012)

Total Workouts (Running/Weights/Karate): 37
Total Hours: 25
Total Miles: 80
Total Calories burned (est): 15,000

Height: 5' 10"
Weight: (pre) 183 (post) 180
(Note: Several of the workouts were doubled up and factually I worked out about 70% of January. Also, I don't log my "wake-up" routine of stretching/core work/upper body awakening. Or as Mr. McConnaughey sez: "Push-ups n' Sit-up's...all right all right all right")

So what did I learn? What was I hoping to gain from this? Going in, I was excited at the prospect of adhering to a new routine and sticking to it. To "not" give lipservice to training and really work my nards off- celebrity/professional athlete style! I knew that I'd either have to spend a considerable amount of time doing it. (Indicating that I either was very dedicated, or had no life to speak of. And let me tell you, friends- It's hard not to think you're the latter versus the former) I partly believed that my body would have a quick-ish response to the training and the results would be -hopefully- immediate. True, I wasn't eliminating everything from my diet like some pre-contest bodybuilder or Spartan king.

Put the Merlot and Muenster Cheese down, motherf#cker...

I figured I had my calories measured so that I was maximizing my input/output necessary to facillitate my workouts and burn any other superfluous nonsense. My OTHER hope was to navigate down toward the 170's pound-age wise...but outside of a handful of times during a morning weigh-in I never dropped down there. Sure, I went down notch on my belt. And of COURSE the stupid fast twitch muscle fibers in my arms liked having a day all to themselves. And while it wasn't shapely and sculpted, whatever subsequent weight loss happened as a result of spending more time isolating my chest allowed me to make out the (hopefully benign) sebaceous cyst that's lived in the area around my sternum my whole life.

Cyst? What cyst? I can't find anything between these throw-pillows I call my chest.

Lastly? Man oh Man oh Man oh Man. I got soooooo fah-king tired. (occasionally) Trying to run at 5 then going to work at 6-7am then hitting the gym afterwards- OR going from the gym to karate to home again? (Karate "suffered" the most. I only wedged in 2 visits in January.) My ass felt like lead. And the soreness? In my muscles? Never really went away. There was always something new ripping and tearing and re-growing. My neck and back felt sledgehammered. (Which, if the article is to be believed, means I'm storing a shit ton of eeeevil on a cellular level...)

I started to get tired of the gross and sweaty laundry I was doing sometimes twice a week. The feeling like I had to bundle up for an outdoor run and the subsequent peeling off of clothes just because it was nice out. (Or because the cute couple I pass every morning that runs together made me feel guilty) The (sometimes) two showers a day. I ended up developing an unhealthy addiction to caffeine (natch) in order to push through the day which played hell with my tummy. And if I was going to a gig at the end of the day? I couldn't even nap because I was always exhausted AND wound up!

And in the end? I didn't even manage to do the 6 days on 1 off! Sometimes I'd give it a day, two days in between here and there. I literally could not even drag my butt out the front door or from work to the gym-And I brought my gym bag every single day. (To be fair, I convinced myself that they were getting grossly tired of seeing my face daily at the club) Finally, I reiterated this to myself. I thought: "This is why models and superstars are paid the big bucks. This is why bodybuilders & fitness enthusiasts get sponsers". And I didn't want to even be built like either.

I just wanted to try on something new for a bit and stick with it.

Without seeming like I'm grumbling too much: The original idea was, truly, to determine if that type of exercise was a good option for my overall wellness/strength. I think it was a good experiment, and like all workout kerfluffles in my life I'm keeping what was useful and discarding what isn't. The leg work alone made karate easier to recover from (and the karate has been helping my reflexes- I mean, in a useful way...I can't tell you how cool it is to be able to keep the bottle of Summit that you just accidentally tipped over from falling off the counter without spilling a drop.) Spending time focusing on one body-part does along (some) room for recovery and isn't forcing your body to over-tax. (And appear like an equipment hog)

And I still really like going to the gym. This much I'm fairly certain of. And making that and karate into second homes keeps me honest and out of trouble. Add to that, over the last 30 days or so I've spoken with people who are not only returning to the gym, but some just starting to discover their own path to health, weight-loss, wellness, etc. And as a motivator, that gets me jazzed to keep going as well. I might have been fibbing a bit when I said I'm dedicating the month of February to the couch (Although "Deadwood" is taking over my life). Sue me.

And I'll see y'all at the gym.

2012 Fitness Regime!

Righto! Fourth-a, Fourth-a, Fourth-a January and it's about time to come clean with the new regime! I mentioned that I was going to try a few new things to shake up my aging carcass in terms of health/wellness and new things it shall be. (It's here that I feel it encumbent to point out that one of the many reasons I don't make the typical resolutions is that I feel fairly okay with the fact that I have exercised and ate right for the last several years. That's not a bragging point, mind. Clearly it's not turned me into an Adonis or challenged me in the way my running workouts have, you know?)

Anyway, we're breaking things down anew this year and as I pointed out earlier I've got a whole new bag of old-cheap moves to try out on myself in 2012. And it starts with chucking the current routine and embarking on something a little more ambitious than I've been accustomed to but hopefully (after a 1-2 month attempt) may start to prove results. And it actually starts by keeping the weight routine pretty simple by attacking the body 1 piece at a time.

(Routine bogarted from the December 2011 Muscle and Fitness)

The weight routine works similarly to a circuit routine, minus hitting all body parts during the same workout. For my part, I've been engaging in moderate (in both frequency and intensity) "super-sets" for the better part of the last 6-7 months. From a time-saving standpoint, it isn't really a bad workout and moreover it's great for being able to tax two contrasting muscle groups that work opposite each other for maximum affect. Problem is? I'm a little stuck right now.

So, the new work-out will be incorporating tenets of both bodybuilding and sports/strength-training by following a "6 on-1 off approach". (Focusing on working one body part, once a day, six-days in a row. The LEGS get special attention* with one light and lastly one heavy workout day before your final day of rest.) This goes on for 3-4 weeks before a rest week and the resuming. If I'm not feeling peachy or I don't look dead-nasty sexy with my clothes off (or have dropped 10-15 consistent pounds. I'll take either) Then I'll shuck it and look into a new routine. I might even try throwing in the occasional "century"** workout too.

In short:
Sun- Arms (Bicep/Tricep/Forearm)
Mon- Off
Tues- Legs (light)
Wed- Moobs (Chest)
Thurs- Back
Fri- Shoulders
Sats- Legs (heavy)***

Ambitious? Yes! However I've a bit of free time for the next...for a bit, and if I can continue this sans distraction I'm hoping for some palpable results. (Also, I'll be able to take my time with the equipment. Supersets are great, but as soon as you get your ass off a bench to go switch exercises SOMEone will be bound to swoop in your place. And hey! The time saved will be about the same since I'm focusing on one body part versus two.)

But...but Michael?!?! Where's all the RUN-ning bulls#it you've been boring us with?!?! Funny that- I'm in the middle of my 3rd draft of an article to submit to "RW" magazine on my own journey (and the help I've received from friends) of becoming someone who enjoys distance running. Does that mean I'm done racing? Mmmmmnahh. I'm still on the fence whether I'm planning on entertaining thoughts of Grandma's Glory (I'm pretty sure I'd be crew-less. Not a big deal, but I don't know if running w/o moral support from buddies so far away from my home base is something I'm ready for)

Anyway, for the 1st quarter of 2012 I plan on dialing it back a bit. I'm getting new kicks to break in, but I don't plan (really) doing any runs in excess of 6 miles - at the longest- and possibly doing the 5 weeks on- 1 week off (or reduced mileage to 20-30% of my "normal" miles---which has been floating around 20-30 miles a week. Weird.) Anyway, I'll still be logging my mileage on Dailymile and Mapmyrun. LOOK OUT! Chugga-Chugga-Chugga. One of the bigger things is I plan on dragging my ass outside to start finding new and wonderful places- in state and out- to go hike/run. I think 2011 was criminally under-hiked. There, I said it. Ground must be pounded.

My martial goals are fairly simple: Black belt. Nearly 15 years at it means no excuses, and my biggest motivator right now is "Don't beat yourself up (snerk) if you miss one night. Just go consistently- weekly- and build up your skills, strength, and abilities until you get it." Easy, huh? I started in Mid-to-Early November and gave myself a (loose) 1-Year goal. I started once a week, bumping up to twice a week. I've ordered new sparring shoes and a bo, and have already sewn and re-sewn repairs on my uniforms. When my gear arrives, I fight. Easy. I might even toss a tourney or two in there. Might. Again, nothing more ambitious with karate besides my immediate 12-month plan.

As for food, I'm keeping it the same: Light meals, mostly vegetarian. Lots of vegetables, fruits, brown rice, quinoa. Work lunches are going to still be spinach salad w/legumes and a hearty light soup. I've taken to keeping nuts and low-fat cheese around the house to keep the edge off if I get peckish. I'm still drinking 1.5 gallons of water a day and I have NO intention of giving up my 2-3 cups of coffee. So there.


That's it. No pictures to be posted, before or after. I WILL try to be more diligent with the statuses and I'll let y'all know how it goes!

*I've tried to synch up my leg workouts to coincide w/karate. It's a great warm up and with a few near-miss classes that felt like I snapped my hamstring, I found out later that getting on the machinery has helped get some of my flexibility (and speed) back. On leg days, I'll also be choosing a different aerobic post-weight workout like the bike or elliptical.

**I tried this with my last chest/back super-set before New Years...and wow. Try doing 1 resistance exercise per body part (2 if you're into masochism) and do 1 set for 100 reps. Yup. Light enough that you can count to 100 doing bench presses, squats, bicep curls, crunches...name it. I could barely lift my arms. Good as a once and a while deal.

***As my high school conditioning coach would say to me: MIKE! DO YER SQUATS!!! If you aren't doing open squats...even on a Smith Machine- do it. Best damn exercise to get better at IMO. More so than the hack sled, nautilus , inverted squat rack...you name it.

Make your early heart-healthy resolution!

(Article attached below) When I'm treadmillin', if I'm not running lines or plugged into the local news/Jeopardy I'll occasionally grab a magazine from the gym courtesy shelf by the exercise bikes. Mostly it's to cover the 'mill monitor (I dislike constantly knowing my time/mileage if I'm doing a long-ish dreadmill run. I'll occasionally peek to see where I am, but mostly it's a better motivator for me to concentrate on running form or listen to "S-words for $400, Trebek!") Magazines just aren't easy to read on the 'mill...typically failing in staying open unless you're just walking.

I grabbed the most recent Musclemag International (One of the rags I used to subscribe to in my youth. This one had a vein-y moose-y guy on the cover advertising "bigger delts just by sitting down!!!") and after about 3 miles or so I decided to start flipping through the advertisments (of which, 3/4th's of the magazine is comprised) bodybuilding workouts (of which...okay, I confess I might try one starting in January. Details to follow.) And found a list of articles called "Muscle Bites" (whatever. I don't work creative for the rag, okay?) and in it, there were the monthly doses of wisdom/random fitness facts- one of which prompted me to bogart the article from the magazine, research some of the facts, and post it here today.

(Sources cited. I found this particular article fascinating since it falls within conversations I've had recently with some other gym-rat buddies- not necessarily argumentative, mind you. I just like the simple logic behind it. And the American Journal of Physiology. Natch. Enjoy.)

DUST OFF THE RUNNING SHOES (Musclemag Dec 2011 issue, in "Muscle Bites")

Although studies have shown weight training increases metabolism and therefore helps to burn calories longer after a workout, researchers at Duke University Medical Center (Durham, NC) conducted an 8-month study that found aerobic exercise (such as jogging) is better than resistance training for losing belly fat in particular. Aerobic training greatly reduce visceral and liver fat (found in the abdomen), improving risk factors for heart disease and other health problem, whereas weight training alone didn't.

Aerobic exercise burns 67% more calories than weight training.

Source: American Journal of Physiology , published 8/16/2011

Please note: This was included with other "bites" including "Daily Exercise Reduces the Risk of Death" and another article advising to speed your metabolism w/Hot Peppers.

Grandma's Recap

(Pictured- Ebullience at mile #5)



Well...it's been over a week and she's ambulatory and running again, so I hope you'll forgive this race recap for being a little late. Yes, she finished the world famous G-Ma's Marathon and lived to tell the tale. FeeJ and I (with the eventual additions of Cap'n Dawn, Melbus, and Cap't Dottie) crewed like fiends with FeeJ doing a lion's share by hauling me around and snapping some tremendous photo's. (As seen above and below. She has a good eye, that one.)



Without getting into too much detail (and with my already terrible penchant for rambling-moreover rambling about running), I think I'd like to tell my 4 readers: Go and watch a marathon. Moreover, leapfrog mileage stops from as close to the start of the race all the way to mile 25. I'm not saying it'll replace your favorite professional sports team, but (for me) the experience- watching almost an entire marathon from start to finish? Was almost transformative.

We made it to our Kampsite Friday afternoon, had a nice dinner at the local restaurant down the street from the Kampgrounds, and turned in early...only to be roused by pissing rain coming down on the rooftop and an anxious-to-make the bus Moda. At 4am. I was still without my faculties at this point. After making it in to Duluth, FeeJ and I killed time at a Perkins with our darkly comical server- although when we started to head out to our first post (mile 5) we were nearly trapped in the parking lot since we neglected to notice that we were on the course and the first half-Mary finishers were heading on home. (Course record, btw- 1:02 half marathon. Jesus.)


We started getting our text updates from the G-Ma's website (Technology is neat!), in addition to our neighborly NE crew of A+D+Crash who were leapfrogging with us as well. FeeJ took to a light pole for a better view ala' "Singin' In the Rain" and after about 20 minutes, the wheelers started in:



And then the "Elite" runners. (Please notice the "mid-strike" footfall. Also? You could have balanced trays on their heads. Almost no bouncing. There were some good one's of the female elites but- get this- they were too fast)

Working with the Ginger's, (and grateful the rain dissipated) we made our way to mile 12 to park and watch. The racers, for the most part, were still ebullient but you could see the fatigue on their faces. By this point, we started recognizing racers from earlier and were able to better identify pace groups. (Although finding Moda...I mean if she hadn't sought us out I'd have missed her entirely) One of my favorite parts was checking out the different race costumes*, identifying footwear (several Veeb sightings) and just...clapping for everybody. Because everyone deserved a clap. Everyone.

*My favorite race t-shirt slogans included: "I shaved my balls for this?!?", "Running Sucks", and lastly "Running is GOOD for you...and your fat ass". Other race garb spanned the gamut from homemade hand-lettered "Marathon Virgin!" to silkscreened commemorative t-shirts with the picture of a deceased loved one. And then there were the "costumes"...tu-tu's, a guy dressed up like a rubber duck, a guy we nicknamed "running Jesus", and...and this guy. I'll be honest...I didn't like him too much:

(Later that night, Moda said the dude had an obnoxious habit of running off the course to have a pee in the woods before returning)

FeeJ and I then started to head back to Downtown Duluth to meet up with the rest of our crew/crew-dog and it was while stuck in traffic I received the worrisome text from 'Lis that said "Mile 16 and she's hurting". Great. And our next planned station wasn't until mile 25 or so. We eventually met with the Cap'n D et.al and made the walk from around mile 23 through downtown proper. While proudly wearing our Mo-Mer hankies, we were able to view first hand the last few miles...and the effects it had on the racers. (This, to me, was the most fascinating)

Gone were the smiles and ebullience. At this point you could tell that people were digging deep, or at least praying that the end was near. They were walking. There were people barefoot. (My favorite? The guy that smacked the mile marker with his shoes. Second only to the dude who looked like he was sooooo close to tossing his cookies) There were...bloody nipples. (WHY WEAR WHITE!?!? WHY?!?!?!?!)

But we kept cheering. We kept screaming. And the crowds...they kept following (We also noticed folks who'd been stationed and apparently leap-frogging like we did) In fact, the outpouring of support was infectious and effusive. And even though I was freezing balls (44 degrees? In June? Really?) I kept clapping and screaming until my hands went numb.

(Pictured- The truth)

And yet here I was, still worried about the Mo. We finally made it to a spot by the DECC center around mile 26 or so and waited. I finally got the text that she crossed mile 25 and we continued to clap and yell for the runners- many of whom looked like they made the worst decision in their lives. And then one woman...one woman re-affirmed that when she came "air-pulling" toward the group of us...and the families and children that surrounded us. And that affirmation came out in a primal and lusty cry!!!

(Pictured: Primal Lust. And Lactic acid. And blisters)

"THIS IS THE WORST FUCKING THING EVER!!!"

Well...with that hearty endorsement in mind, let me hustle on out and sign up for one! We milled over to the finish area and waited until we heard her name announced. (At this point, I received a flurry of text messages from the Bean, who was watching the live video stream from home, asking if he was seeing her correctly)

And man...you have never seen a flurry of emotion pass across somebodies face as much as a marathon finisher. The laughing melts into intense sobbing, back to amazement, to pain, to laughing and all smiles.

Like this:

While she limped off to pick up her gear ("This is bullshit. WHY are they making the race finishers walk another block to get their crap?!?!) I took a few minutes to soak it all in. And it wasn't pretty. In fact, it was almost like a trauma center. A little harrowing too, since they don't let you walk in with the finishers to get their stuff. We waited a tick longer until she came out (more smiles, more tears, more worry that she lost a toenail...which was only a pretty agitated blister) We walk/carried her a few blocks away until we were picked up by Dawn and Melbus and headed to grab some food at a restaurant that wasn't bursting with racers before heading back to the campsite proper for a well deserved party. (Or in Moda's case, limping to bed and passing out at 8:45.)

So I've volunteered at a water stop. I've hung out next to race/course marshall's at full-marathons. And this'll be technically the 2nd time I've crewed for Mo during a run. But I'm stone-cold serious when I tell you that you should think about attending a marathon and following the course of the run from stem to stern. It's a powerful thing to see people-from the "Elite" runners all the way to 1st timers who just want to finish (the last place finisher came in just over 7 hours.) and how they evolve/devolve as the joy and energy is slowly replaced, mile by mile, with gritted teeth. Pain. Focus. Resolve. Just to say you ran 26.2 miles. I guarantee...the racers will appreciate it from the bottom of their medallioned hearts.

Race day Re-Cap

Pictured- The author's well worn Lunar-Fly's. After hundred's of miles of minimalist training I think it's safe to retire them to a nice senior community in Florida.

Whew. I'd love to bend your ear with a mile-for-mile play-by-play but I'm still pretty tired and living off of the residual memory of how it went yesterday- In addition to the outpouring of support of Moda, D-Gangs, D+A and Crash, as well as surprise sightings/appearances of Balcolm-In-The-Middle, Matthus, and bless her heart...the original sporting cheerleader, Mom.



In brief-

After setting out my gear and a fitful night's sleep, I was up and biking to the Depot around 5:30 am after a breakfast of 1 gallon of water and two cups of java. We met, stretched a little, frassed, and eventually meandered over to the start. I was introduced to FeeJ's buddy Ryan and we milled about on the street waiting for a Port-a-John and getting anxious listening to the announcer do the pre-start countdown...which seemed closer than would allow us to actually get a chance to get to pee.

Moda miraculously found us in the throngs, we waited and waited until the buzzer announced the start and waited some more. (A fellow runner told me not to worry. As soon as the buzzer yelped the lines would dissipate to free us up to pee. And they did. And thank you, miss.)

FeeJ and her Garmin were great for mellowing me out from the get-go (my instinct being to catch up with the crowd...and to stop dancing to N-Sync's "Bye-Bye-Bye") and keeping a steady pace for the first few miles. My only running goals (while, you know, actually "running" ) were not to get too ahead of myself speed-wise, and to hopefully "open'er up" around mile 10 if I was feeling good. We had some Coach-Moda and D-Gang sightings on the first few miles with Moda playing Drill Sergeant during my more juvenile race-moments of air-drumming during "Stone-in-Love" ("IF YOU HAVE ENOUGH ENERGY TO AIR-GUITAR, YOU SHOULD BE RUNNING FASTER!")

Duly noted.

After doubling back across the Stone-Arch (and memory of how last year I was starting to "feel" it.) we hit the hills (soundtrack-"Run, Run Away"). I kept up with double-fisting the water and Powerade, making sure to knock back the "Ade" FIRST then warsh it down with water. I skipped the GU and kept the beat with my mix and tried to just keep moving forward. Short steps. Upright posture. By mile 8 or 9 (I think) I was feeling fine on the uphills and doing my best to power-down the downs then level-off. I had enough in my tank. And I actually felt okay.

FeeJ and I parted ways a little bit before the turnaround back to the "G", and while I had hoped to keep with my plan of putting on speed for the last 3 miles I had mis-read the mile marker and slowed down thinking there were really 5 miles left (whoops) when it was more like 2.5. And then when I was increasing my speed on a particular downhill, I was weaving between runners when I caught a pothole which twisted my ankle in and I had to do the quick 10 second assessment (Is it broken? Can I put weight on it?) My back was frassy, but I figured at least my engines were moving me forward. And holy crap did it scare me.

My coaches had been hollering encouragement from the sides of the roads for the last few, but I'd be lying if I said I was actually listening. Outside of confirming with Moda there was only a mile or so left, I plugged back in ("Roll with the Changes") and figured I should power on through to the end. My breathing was still okay and there wasn't any gorge coming back up under the bridge heading toward the finish so when I saw the balloons and crap I figured I should just see how fast I could go, consistently, to finish.

And no shit, I finished in 2:08. Nearly 30 minutes off of my time from last year. I didn't even have tunnel vision. For her part, as proud as she was and proud as I was that she came out to cheer? Mother did not hug her sweaty second-born. For my part, I kept it together long enough to run (ha!) back to the finish-line and cheer on my friend FeeJ. Good job, love. Tremendous job for someone who hadn't ran a mile one year ago.

And now, Moda is already telling me I should try shaving off time to get sub-2 with my next run. I haven't decided if the Red, White, and Boom will be the next race (It's tropically prohibitive in MN in July.) but maybe, just maybe I'll try it for the Monster Dash?

God knows I'm wearing my hypocrisy quite well. ("This is the first and LAST half I'm doing! Time to cross THIS off the Bucket List...LOL!" Mikey, circa 2010)

But maybe I can do that. Moda, Gangs, et.al have made me think about things while running that I've been able to practically apply to both my training and race day: Use what's in the tank and leave it on the course, and push yourself. I think it was my rationale that I'd try and run the last 5K at a faster tempo that I figured that maybe I wasn't pushing my self as hard as I could. I could have just plodded out the half and finished this year. And been done. Hey. Another medal and wicker shirt. But who was stopping me. I wasn't injured. I was (thankfully) not broken from that pot-hole. The only thing keeping me from getting up those hills would have been me. And I was all like..."Fuck those hills." No really. In my brain, I couldn't respond to my friends because I was making wine under my feet. With the hills. Wine-Hill-Fucking. Whatever makes your PR, right? Shut it.

And thanks for humoring me these last few weeks. I can't promise that it'll end with this race. Shoot...I can't even post a gardening blog until the whirli-gigs stop falling. And I hope that maybe you'll see that any/everyone can start this insanity.


Race Day Raiment. Not only was I color coordinated like a Chaplin movie, but Under-Armour was my unofficial race day sponsor....down to the wrist-bands. Note "hankerchief head-band of power".

Pre-race happiness. At the Depot, and before the pain, 6/5/11



Motivational phrases at the starting line.

The line of runners, along W. River Parkway on race day- 6/5/11


Finishing line. I won't lie...last year they had a marching band playing. And I really, REALLY wanted the marching band back.


There were 3-4 things I wanted for this race. Remember? Strong finish, Do not stop to walk, disregard the PR and run my own race. Oh, and be standing and smiling at the end. The Guiness...well that was another charitable act on behalf of some spectators. Thank you for the carbs and kindness.

Mama called them my MAGIC shoes...(Race day)

Pictured: "Team Awesome"- Moda, Cap'n Dawn, Matthus, and some dude wearing a chopped up Spider-Man T-shirt in the interest of standing out and looking cool. Also note the MP3 player, slowly on it's way to working loose and being held for the remainder of the run. (ps- This was about mile 2 or so. So we're still pretty fresh and smiley) From the Mpls Half-Marathon 2010.


Well coming up on another half-Mary this Sunday and I've been getting more and more excited. Moda, Feej, and I will be carbing up on Friday. Packet Pick-Up will be on Saturday. And I'll be up and biking to the starting line bright and stupidly early on Sunday. Hooray!

My propensity for waxing nostalgic notwithstanding, I gotta say that it feels (this time around anyway) pretty chill going in. What I mean is, last year around this time I was a little nervous and not what you'd call the "Acme of Anticipation". Kind of the opposite, actually. And what happened? It wasn't what you'd call "calamitous"...(Oh...was it another bullet list you wanted?) Well, to recap before the race...

-I had only been "Training" training for a little over 2 months, with my longest run up until that point having been an 8-9 mile trail trot that I half-walked.

-The longest race I'd completed was the GIG 10K.

-Papa wanted himself a GOOD night sleep, so on top of the pre-race carbing and beers he made sure to put back a few V and T's.

-Papa ate himself a nice big breakfast and over a gallon of water. Then shotgunned another beer for some extra carbs.

-And we biked in the chilly morning over to the Depot SUPER early. Papa stretched and bitched and frassed and finally made two potty stops before the race began.

As for the race itself? Well the 1st four miles or so were okay. A+D were there to cheer. At mile 3 I was all flexing my arms for the friends I saw and just trying to keep pace with my group. By mile 5 Moda had powered on. By mile 6 I thought "This is nearly a 10K distance. I feel like I'm going soooo far". Also, this is where some of the half-marathoners were already powering back) By mile 7-8 I had already started (mostly) walking and having trouble taking deep breaths. By mile 12-13 I was hallucinating that non-existent friends were cheering me on and regretting the GU packet I swiped at the last water stop. (My bottle you see in the picture above? Bone dry)

I nearly crawled over the finish line. (I was happy I didn't puke.) I could barely stand and found myself quietly resentful that we had decided to bike there in the first place. The only things that made it worthwhile (besides sitting down) was the applause from some people who saw us at the Bulldog afterwards and recognized that we had just ran the race...and the dumb heavy-ass medal. (BTW- I finished in a little over 2:40, I think) And while they weren't bleeding...it certainly felt like someone had given me a titty twister. Ouch.

So why've I flipped? I don't know. I had an analogy in mind regarding people who jump out of an airplane for the first time and are scared but who then love subsequent jumps. So it's kiiind of like that? There's the prep. We've put up some heavy miles over the last year or so. I've logged quite a few more 12+ milers outside now and have actually ran them versus stopping to puke/walk. I've felt better on hills. We've run parts of the course again during training. I've been rocking the minimalist shoes and Vibrams. I've got some very good friends running it (for the first time. We'll have many high-fives to trade, Feej) And as opposed to last year with the dreaded fatalist mindset of "I just want to finish" I have a few new ones I've adopted for this year:

"I want to run the whole course and not walk"
"I'm not trippin' about my PR, but will be happy to finish sub-2:25 or 2:20" (I have a matinee, you see)
"I want to finish strong"
"I'm running my own race for me"

Pretty straight forward. I'm really digging on the Half-Mary's. I read an article in RW that they've been picking up momentum as the "challenging race of choice" for people who are on the fence about running a marathon or just want to get their toes wet in the running world. And who knows, maybe I'll eventually nut-up and try a full-Mary. (Gods know I'm proud/excited/worried for and about Moda doing Gramma's Mary the following weekend) It's just nice to know I have the option. Nicer still to know that in my head, I'd like to keep doing long-runs on the weekend with buddies around the nabe, around the lakes...just in case there's a half-Mary lurking around this summer we wanna jump into. Ha-HA!

So I'm hoping (fingers-crossed...barring an accident or injury) that the following picture you see below? The one I'll ask to take post-race this year? That'll be me, except standing up and smiling. Not squatting and grimacing in pain.



ps- I lied. There was a 3rd thing that made the run worthwhile and I would be remiss to forget to mention it: The people who come out to cheer. Last year I might've veered off course or knocked someone out of a wheelchair so I didn't have to run anymore if it wasn't for the people cheering us on and holding signs. Race fans improve the morale of the runners (IMO) exorbitantly, and I'd go so far as to say we really depend on that energy when we're digging deep. So if you're downtown this Sunday in the early a.m. Bring a chair, cop a squat, and clap yer hands. You'll have thousands of people grateful that you did.

Rock N' RUN!

(Skip to the end if you just can't stop the music. This is mainly for my mom who complains of blog lenghth. No need to comment, Ma. This disclaimer is solely here to help you out!)

From the time I first started running, I've spent an ungodly amount of time in my head. And friends, this can be a terrible, terrible place to reside. I had one crazy summer in 1997 or so where I had this...thing...this am/fm thing that was the size of a pair of earmuffs sporting an antenna that I'd wear running my "Uptown Loop" from Lake to Franklin and back again. And since this was back in 1997 or so, "Tubthumpin" was on continuous loop. As was Alanis Morrisette. No good. And so when my sweaty melon finally shorted it out? I haven't used music during runs since.

Since my jaunts were usually 30 minute jobbies, I'd barely have enough time to plot world-domination much less what I was having for dinner so owning whatever the newest fangled music-listening device that was prevalent at the time wasn't a high priority to me. Now fast-Forward to last year when we started to put up 1-2 hour training runs. This takes "Inside Mikey Head-Time" to torturous water-boarded levels. Enter the kindness of my techonologically savvy friends to help me understand the (at the time already) outdated concept of: The MP3 player.

FeeJ was kind enough to give me her old model and Moda threw a bunch of tunes on it that she already had saved on her computer. So finally, I was able to plug in and tune out to some rockin' tunage. And while this was a fun period of adjustment for me and I no longer had to imagine what like would be like if I was filthy rich (A frequent fantasy while running), there were a few issues that I took with the technology. Minor quibbles, really.

First off:

-It was pink. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth and all, but yeah. No. Mikey No Pinkalicious.

-I stretched the arm strap so it wouldn't stay on, so I had to carry it in my hand. (Probably because of my BIG MUSCLES!) Plus my fat fumbly fingers couldn't skip songs very well. See the next bullet.

-While there was plenty of Michael Jackson (Thanks dear!) and Beyonce' et.al. which were upbeat and peppy? There'd occasionally be some of "FeeJ's Favorites" on there as well...namely, Jason Mraz. I have nothing personal against Mr. Mraz or his music, but after having the aforementioned Michael Jackson beats dropped, his music tends to acts like a drag parachute.

And that's the thing. Music and the beat, it's said, quickens your pace a bit. Adds to your energy. I can get behind that. When Moda's pa Panja hooked me up with an Ipod + clip last summer to replace the awkward MP3 (Lookit Mikey getting all the tech handouts!) and she loaded it up with her distance training mix (which was much more consistently peppy and beat-heavy. Nary a Dolly Parton song to be found), I had many months on my own to try and calculate/imagine what my personal race soundtrack would be. (Sorry, love. I'm not besmerching your mix. The beats got me through nearly 100's of runs)

So today, (After I finally launched into the 21st century and got an Itunes account of my own) I'm sharing the Mikey Mega-Run Mix Playlist. (Truncated version 1.0) For some reason I thought it'd be full of 80's montage power ballads (And they're on there, oh yes), but I ended up with an eclectic array that I've found to be encouraging on my long runs, and strangely enough...mildly inspirational? As long as I don't wind myself during the race playing air drums during "Sister Christian" or trying to sing along. Ahem. Feel free to bogart some of the titles for yourselves...

(An * indicates a song that I can't help but listen to twice. This isn't the full list, mind you. I put about 2.5 hours worth of music on there which is...I hope...enough time to finish the Half-Mary without doubling back through the playlist. I even categorized them.)

YOU WILL RUN. YOU WILL RUN FAR AND FAST AND IT IS GLORIOUS. DROP A BEAT!

Montage Music/80's
- "Live to Win" (Paul Stanley) Doi. If you've seen the MMPORG "South Park"...you'll know. Goofy.
- "Eye of the Tiger"/"Burning Hearts" (Survivor) You will beat up Russians.
- "Sister Christian" *(Night Ranger) Yeah. Twice. It rules.
- "Doctor Feelgood" (The motherlovin CRUE)

Mike's music tastes are stuck in High School between 1989-1993
- "Poison" (Bel Biv Davoe)
- "I'm gonna Knock You Out" (LL Cool J)
- "Good Vibrations" (Marky Mark mit der Funky Bunch)
- "Gonna Make You Sweat" (C+C Music Factory)
- "I've got the Power" (Snap! To be fair, I envision the movie "The Perfect Weapon" when I hear this)
- "Freedom-90" (George Michael. I have fond...fond memories of this song. My earliest workouts in my parents basement used to consist of running in place, doing jumping jacks and push-ups, all while watching "MTV". And this video? Mega Hot to a 15 year old. Get out of the tub, Ms. Evangelista. Please?)
- "Roam" * (B-52's. Reminds me of mall cruising Brookdale and Orange Julius)

Michael Jackson
- "Beat It", "Thriller", "The Way You Make Me Feel", "Bad". I should mention my Janet hold out is "If"...b/c it's great. And yeah. MJ. 'Nuff Said.

Mo-ldovers from the MP3 days
- "All the Single Ladies" * (Beyonce') What? I'll cut you.
- "My First Mistake" * (Jellyfish)
- "Low" (T-Pain) "Apple bottom jeans, boots with the fur...The whole club was like: 'Hey, that fat chick hates cardio and animals'!" (Not my quote, fyi)
- "Buttons" (Pussy Cat Dolls feat. Snoop-dogg) I'll explain this later.
- "I'm going on"/"Run" (Gnarles Barkley) Awesome...awesome running songs.

Goofy WTF'ers
- "I'm Awesome" (Spose) Look...don't knock it until you've worked out to it.
- "Thong Song" (Sisqo) Like "Buttons"? When you need to dig deep? Really really deep? And it's, like, mile 10 or so? You could do worse than songs dealing with women getting undressed. IJS.
- "Calling Baton Rouge" *(Garth Brooks) STOP WITH YOUR JUDGEMENT!

Weight, Weight...don't tell me...

Or, "Confessions of a banana-rexic"...Full disclaimer friends- This week, the old blog is going to be almost solely dedicated to running shit. The Mpls. Half-Marathon is coming up in less than a week and it's got me mooooore than excited. Also, this will probably be yet another devisive posts. As always, consult a doctor or dietician before engaging in any drastic changes in your diet or you could DIE! Remember, this worked for me- not you. Annnnnnd speaking of dieticians...)

So on the bulletin board at the gym, they have apparently hired themselves a dietician. She's pretty. Fit. Blonde. Sunkissed (all of this I surmised by her photo.) She has the appropriate pedigree (Master's in Biology, Foodology, Physiology or what have you.) She even included below her biography/introduction page her favorite recipe for "healthy" waffles... and smoothies.

And I. Don't. Trust her.

I mean, is it just me or would you trust Pamela Anderson to tell you what to eat, or Baron Vladimir Harkonnen?
Pictured: A guy that knows his sandwiches. Incidentally, this was found on a website titled "Fat Bad Guys". Thought I'd share.

I'm kidding, of course. I think that dieticians and personal trainers both are integral to adopting a safe and healthy lifestyle impetus. I've just never had much use for either, you know? I mean, frassing to friends and family about how I already know I eat healthy, I substitute whatever for whatever is fat free...I don't know. I guess I figured I already knew how to eat healthy. What I didn't figure is that I was such a damn poser about it.

Look. I don't mean to brag, but I've lost some weight. It's true. The other day before I engaged in a big lawn project I started looking for a pair of my grubby jeans. I ended up grabbing some from the musty pile of discards in the basement...only realizing that they weren't my torn up grubbies from the thrift store but my old "good" Gap jeans.

That I haven't been able to wear since before the cruise in 2008


Pictured- 34 X 30's being held up by a belt. And before you roll your eyes and tell me I'm flexing, you up and use an edger tiller for 4 hours and try mulching up a 4x3 section of new garden and see if you aren't exhaus...and I've been working pretty gawdamn hard at the gym...you know what? Forget it. Just...hey, 34 x 30's btw.

And just today, I weighed myself on the Devil-scale at the gym. As much as I hated it for showing a weight that was closer to 200 lbs 3-4 months ago I'm hoping that it isn't pulling my leg this time by saying that my weight was below 180.

For the first time. In over 3 years.

So here is the part where (if you've actually been following along, per normal) I reveal my huge free fitness secret. You can attribute it to running shitty long-distances over the last 3 months or so. Cutting out hard liquor last Fall. Whatever. I think it's mostly getting to the point in my training where I've figured out how to re-direct my terrible relationship with portion sizes and how certain foods affect me physically on a daily basis... and also from the standpoint of what fuel is most useful in helping me train effectively. And it turns out, I realized that I had a lot of what NASA refers to as "Solid Fuel" to use. In part...

1) The banana-rexic thing is a joke Moda and I came up with after I'd been so busy w/work et.al that I showed up for dinner starving because "All I had to eat today was a banana". (Truth) The reality is that I've figured out that I was (again) eating for the sake of eating at proscribed times, caving in to my snacky mentality, over-eating with the mindset that I was "in training", and binge-eating when my budget or time would allow. (Again, justifying a trip to Holy Land or Great Dragon buffet was a good idea to help eat more protein. Riiiight)

So I just stopped doing that. I started by drinking a lot more water and flavored sugar-free soda water in the morning and would just...put off having my breakfast yogurt and banana until closer to 10 am or so. I felt hungry by the time I needed to eat them, and it was close enough to lunch that it didn't make sense to me to snack or eat anything else before noon.

Annnnnnd I kind of went vegetarian. Kind of. Actually, mostly. (editors note: I'll probably bend your ear on another blog regarding how I've changed on this standpoint on this over the last 15 years or so. It's definitely fuel for another story.) Outside of being a good way to get your nutrients and roughage, I found that eating a whole box (sorry Moda) of Morningstar (insert the following: Mini-corn dogs, Buffalo Nugs, Ribs, Spicy Black Bean Burger) was a good way to get my lunch fix out of the way and not feel hungry until dinner. During tech, I'd have some soup and a large piece of crusty bread before hitting the in-house gym and if I was SO hungry I couldn't take it? I'd grab a Clif bar from S.A. and another liter of water. At night, I'd get home tired so I wasn't eating a big meal before bed. Then I'd repeat the routine during the work week.

On weekends I'd cheat, sure. It felt (sort of) uncomfortable eating a big breakfast and I found that I wasn't able to finish the big meals that I used to polish off in a sitting. And I usually wound up full enough to go the rest of the day doing chores/training/projects until dinner. Eater's remorse usually wasn't a factor because I'd try to go into the meal knowing if I demolished half a pizza, I'd wind up feeling like shit.

The biggest piece of my own advice that (I guess) I'd give away is this- It's important to stay hungry mentally and physically. To work on really, really getting the most enjoyment out of meals by holding off on eating them, and not eating it all of it in a sitting. And the trick, the hard part? Is disciplining yourself enough not to give in and gorge when the meal comes around.

2) That whole "solid fuel" joke and part about going vegetarian? Really wasn't all that jokey. Okay, so it's known in running circles that the idea of "carbing up" isn't all that smart to do the day right BEFORE the race. (Giving your body the time to break it down into usable glucose stores for extended running after having eaten a mere 8 hours before race day? Right. It doesn't make much sense. Two days? Gives you enough time to break it down.)

My pre-long race foods the night before are usually roughage heavy or (my favorite)= Sushi. Get a little Omega 3 in there, some rice, and I'm good to go the next morning without feeling too stuffed or acid reflux-y. And post-race? The idea of grease/beer/etc. is almost as nauseating to me as smelling bad milk. (I just...ugh. I want something simple. My tummy just gets messed UP post-distance runs.)

As for the solid fuel line, it's because of a comment that D-Gangs made a few months ago. The way I see it, I had a lot of fuel (extra adipose) wrapped around my waist. A lot. Male-Muffin Top, whatever. So whenever I was on a regular training run and after having a limited calorie daily diet I'd make it so that I was visualizing using "What I Had in the Tank". (And it's GOOD fuel. The chubs-sorry- are a rich source of energy to push you through.)

I didn't do this stupidly, mind you. I knew the 2 days before long runs I needed to carb up and I didn't place myself in the realm of ridiculous by starving myself. (Useless ideology if you ask me. Food tastes too good, and having no energy to run/lift makes the concept of getting stronger/improving PR's invalid.) But yeah. On my 3-6 miles early jaunts I eschewed having toast or a waffle and bread-y things for a banana and loading up on some water. Easy enough. And my energy has been fine.

And I'm down quite a few l.b.esses.

So that's the big secret. Hollywood stars and models need to work out a shit ton and starve themselves. It's true, and it's true. And if you think to the contrary, you're very very wrong. Starve. Themselves. And I'm vain, but not that vain to wanna look like I've been in a slave camp. But I am admittedly vain enough to use the fuel I had on me to push me through the training and feel good physically and in terms of self-image.

Bottom line- eat less. Do more cardio. It's the same formula that's been around for ages.

Making dinner with things I find in the kitchen...

(Cooking blog. Fair warning.)

"Cooking with shit I happen to find in the kitchen".

Catchy, isn't it? I'm like a lot of folks who occasionally turn around in circles in my kitchen, open the fridge or the pantry numerous times with the hope that inspiration will hit me. Hit me in the FACE! What happens is I default to takeout, or Moda and I will toss recipes back and forth before hitting the grocery store to pick something up...and then buying an ingredient or three that I already had. (So there's doubles of things like coriander, mustard seed, vanilla extract etc.)

Moreover, I've "inherited" a bunch of food from my folks from back when they had themselves a Costco membership- Which means I have a lot (and I mean a lot) of canned and jarred stuff in the pantry and fruit cellar. And yet again, I wind up with doubles packages of everything when I don't bother checking what's in the larder before running to Cub for the "main" ingredients. So laying around I have cans coconut milk, chili beans, rice, and a disgusting amount of pasta.

That said, making pasta at my place becomes a struggle in creativity.Ievolved from making Ramen as a default dish to boiling water/using a whole box of rotini/dumping the jar of red sauce on top/eating it all. And within the last 7 or 8 years I've made valiant efforts in terms of edging away from a jar (and discovering the joys of jarred pesto)...which means I've been involved in some pretty atrocious experiments. (The genesis of this was when I was 16 and tried to cook for a date, boiling pre-cooked fettucine to death and pouring cold alfredo sauce on top. I did the same thing years later for yet another date who was a vegetarian and I made spaghetti with a melange of random vegetables. It was inedible. The trash can got sick.)

So clearly I'm not a fantastic cooking improviser. But I'm a helluva copy cat. And with that, I randomly present you with one of my favorite scenes in the movie "The Godfather"- Remember the one where Fat Clemenza shows Michael Coreleone how to make dinner for "A buncha guys?". He's making red sauce, right? (And film nuts, I know. Okay? I know how Coppola loves to incorporate food into his movies. Enough) So when we started gardening, I actually got the gumption to make my own red sauce at home with inspiration from that film by using the tomatoes and herbs from the garden and fully believing it'd turn out like shit. What I discovered? It was:

A) Fulfilling to make red sauce that you grew yourself
B) Easier than I thought
C) Tastier than Ragu
D) Not as messy as I thought. (I won't lie. I hate the mess. And making your own pasta can get messy as you'll see below)
E) Easy enough that even a flibbertigibbet clutz like me can do it.


So if you have a bunch of cans of tomatoes- diced/peeled whatever (Notice in the photo below that there are two different brands of tomato. See what I meant when I said I get doubles?) or when you're on a budget (read: "Po'") you can still play chef by making your own red sauce at home. (You can do it with fresh tomatoes, just make sure to de-seed them first before chopping them up)

I'll show you what I did and reference the food and utensils needed along the way:

What you'll need:

One 24 oz. can of diced tomatoes. (Or 2 small cans of peeled. Whatever)
One bunch of basil
2-3 cloves of garlic, coarsely chopped (The chopped and jarred kind? Fine. It'll just taste weird)
1 large onion or 2-3 small ones. (I had a bag from "Fare For All". I can frass about those guys later)
Handful of brown sugar
1/4 cup of olive oil
A whatever of ground pepper and sea salt. (To taste, I guess)
A splash of red wine (Optional, but whatever. Fat Clemenza recommended it)
I guess some spices from a generic spice rack or something. (To play with. I used some of the generic "Italian Seasoning" and "Oregano")

Tools- A large pan, sharp cooking knife, and a food processor. (Note: Everyone, and I mean EVERYone needs to invest in a good, sharp, cooking knife. Not just the bunch you get from Target. I mean invest, and keep the dumb thing sharp. Cutting crap should be as effortless as letting the blade fall across the veggie and you pull back your elbow to cut through. And the food processor? You don't need a $300 model, but for the times you'll probably break it out to make stuff? Not a bad investment. Otherwise, feel free to dirty up your margarita/daiquiri making blender.)



Prepare ingredients by opening the cans (If using fresh tomatoes, use 6 Roma tomatoes if that's your thing and cut into four piece then de-seed. Then chop them coarsely as well). Coarsely chop the onion and garlic. (See? "Coarse" in this case means "Not fancy and small". So it's easy. Get to da Choppah.) Heat the olive oil in the large pan over medium heat. Once it warms up a bit, put in the garlic and onion.

Babysit that pan until the onion gets a little clear (Don't burn the garlic) and sprinkle your herbs and brown sugar over the mess. Dump the cans of tomato in there with a splash of red wine. Lay the basil on top so it makes a for a good photo. Reduce the heat and let it simmer.



Once it starts bubbling a little, take it off the burner and shut off your stove. You'll need to be careful when transferring it to the food processor. (Clearly you can see that mine is a fancy wall-mounted model) So use a deep spoon and steady hands. On LOW, pulse the processor until the ingredients resemble the consistency of the shit you can find at the store in a jar.


Why low? Because as you can see from the photo above? You might wind up with more sauce than you (or your processor) can handle and it turns into a marinara sprinkler (tm). Put the superfluous sauce in tupperware.


Set yerself up for a fancy feast! Serve over pasta (I used farfalle) cooked to instruction. Serve w/fresh shaved parmesan or whatever comes in the green cardboard tube. Maybe with a side of garlic bread.

IMPORTANT TIP- Boil the water, cook for the allotted time, then shut off the stove and let it sit for another 3-5 minutes in the hot water. (Otherwise most boxed pasta winds up too al dente if you cook it exACTLY to the minute it says on the box.)

TIP 2- Feel free to "healthen" up the meal by substituting Barilla Protein Pasta or whole wheat noodles. Or, you know...just eat less.