tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-161994132024-03-13T22:42:43.348-05:00Tales From The EyeSouthern Living in the wake of Katrina.<br><br>
Jon McDougal - Father. Philosopher. Scallywag.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.comBlogger1441125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-70371907230912703452017-06-29T13:22:00.000-05:002017-07-23T16:09:31.189-05:00My Big Break<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The good thing about accidents: You don't plan on having them. When they happen, you either freak out and fight against the reality of the situation, or you look the sumbitch in the eye and say, "That sucked, but you are not going to stop me. Not now. Not ever."<br />
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While biking on the night of June 28th, 2017, my own accident unfolded suddenly and most unexpectedly. An unfamiliar course. A tight pack. Zipping hellafast down wet roads. Focusing on the tire in front of me and not the brightly labeled bump in the road. Traction disappeared. The bike is wobbling like an angry jackhammer. And there's a decision to make: bail, or slam into a railing. The idea of a "dead stop" with an unforgiving rail was the less appealing option.<br />
<br />
So the plan was to go down on my right shoulder. Started to do that. Then hit another bump and my right hand shot out, reflexively. And things went the way things went from there.<br />
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Warning: If you are squeamish, please do not click through to the rest of the tale. There is no blood, but you might not like the x-rays of the result of the accident. Spoiler: It ends with plates and screws!<br />
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Surprisingly (and thankfully!) the break was painless and silent. Didn't feel it. Didn't hear it. When my brain down-regulated from crisis mode the only sign of any foul play was the vulgar angle of my right arm. "Well, that's broken." But it wasn't (contrary to rumors) sticking through the skin. Even slowly straightening the broken arm and sitting up didn't hurt. The sensation of bones grinding across one another was quite disturbing though. And extra caution was taken on my part to NOT move and NOT feel that particular horror again.<br />
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Time dilated. Everyone stopped to help. Jay scrambled behind me, helping cradle the arm. Brian later said my bike was still wrapped around my legs. He cleaned my face. My glasses to. Somebody called 911. Allen rescued wallet, phone, and keys (since it would be hours before this adventure ended.) And after some reasonably fast lapse of time, a lone fireman arrived to put on a field split, then the EMTs appeared to help me stand, give me my first gurney ride, and my first ambulance ride.<br />
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You can most assuredly imagine the rest but the short version is: Nurses cautiously cleaning off the debris. X-ray is not flattering. Dose of painkillers in the IV. Called Cindy once those iced my nerves. She & Liam come to comfort me. More meds while the ER doctor "stablilizes" my arm. Up to a private room to wait a near-sleepless night for surgery in the morning.<br />
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Surgery was oddly interesting. Ahead of time, at eight in the morning, the anesthesiologist prepped me for a nerve block and gave me another dose of propofol. THIS ONE knocked me for a loop. In the ER, their dose did not alter my cognition, we were carrying on a conversation and the pain was there, but numb, while the ER doctor was "stablizing" me. The anesthesiologist's dose effectively knocked me out and my wits only briefly resurfaced with him jamming a needle in my shoulder and asking me to try to wiggle my fingers. Went back under the cotton clouds of the meds and woke with the nurse wheeling me to the operating room.<br />
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Then the anesthesiologist angles his head into my field of vision.<br />
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"This is it," he says, putting a mask over my mouth.<br />
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"This is it?"<br />
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"Yes," he says, "this is it."<br />
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A brief sigh of surrender on my part. And then a crash of black waves that drag me under.<br />
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. . .<br />
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Reality returns, distorted and fuzzy without my glasses. Something is wrong with my lungs. Breathing is oddly difficult and NOBODY is in the room to help me.<br />
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Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.<br />
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Over and over and over.<br />
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. . .<br />
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In the middle of this odd, blind meditation, an unseen nurse shuffles behind the bed and starts wheeling me down slow gray hallways.<br />
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Breathe. Hallways. Breathe. Doors. Breathe. Elevators. Breathe. My lungs starting to work on their own.<br />
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"Here we are," she says. "Back in your room."<br />
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"My wife is here?"<br />
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"I'm here," says Cindy.<br />
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"I'm here, too" says My Mother.<br />
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"Mom! You're here? How'd you get here so soon?"<br />
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"It's three o'clock," she says, "We've been here for hours."<br />
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Seven hours since they took me to get prepped. Twenty two hours since the accident. Twenty seven hours since my last meal. After a quick bite to eat, an amazingly quick checkout, and a torrential rainstorm on the ride home, the deed is finally done.<br />
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The next day, the bruising and the recovery begins. (It's like a free purple tattoo from my elbow to my armpit!)<br />
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The bones never hurt. The incisions itch. The muscles and soft tissue in my arm and hand ache from the impact. But after two nights, there is no more need for painkillers. Just patience.<br />
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As far as planning goes, this is my plan: adapt, overcome, and continue to achieve my goals. There was an accident. It sucked. But it won't define me as a person. Just means there's more work needed, to rebuild IronNerd!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-57420338878123995352017-05-07T21:56:00.003-05:002017-05-07T21:56:56.628-05:00The Ryanman 2017 - Week Three<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Increased the volume even more this week: 4 runs, 3 days of weights, 2 swims, and 2 bikes. Still dialing in the HR zone training but my stats are improving. Mid-Zone 3 ride on Saturday and held 18.4MPH pace without any significant effort at all. (Not many years ago 18MPH was gut busting.) Mid-Zone 3 run had me just above a 10:00/mile pace. Swim pace is coming down to about 1:50/100.<br />
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Resumed HRV monitoring this week. So far, it has been surprisingly good. Perhaps it is the zone training, by my HRV scores have been 6-8, despite the increased volume. Hoping to get on the final schedule this week (4 gym sessions, 3 bikes, 3 runs, and 2 swims) and see how that affects the scores. If such a schedule can be maintained, the improvements will be very noticable.<br />
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Resumed breath-training this week. Started wearing the dreaded Training Mask during my warm-ups at the gym. One day it was 200m x 6, wearing the mask. Then 50 single-unders x 6, wearing the mask. After each interval it was like drowning. But it is manageable. For now.<br />
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Overall, super happy with the progress, and we're still a couple of weeks out from actually starting the program! Just need to make sure to bring the sunscreen, next Saturday!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-68732841033221792242017-04-30T21:43:00.000-05:002017-05-07T21:47:51.193-05:00The Ryanman 2017 - Week TwoIncreasing my volume of training again this week: 3 runs, 2 swims, 1 bike, two gym sessions. Sleeping a bit better and dialing in the nutrition, too. Need to work on mobility, HRV, and breath work, soon. Yesterday's "long" ride was brutal due to humidity and wind but otherwise everything is off to a good start. Bit short on details this week, but this is just a "building" phase, several weeks before the official program starts. More, next week.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-1933600765368468792017-04-23T21:38:00.002-05:002017-04-23T21:38:48.258-05:00The RyanMan 2017 - Week One<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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One of my long races this year will be the RyanMan 70.3 triathlon, Oct 8th, in Jackson, MS. Working on a new plan this time, including elements of strength & condition, an increased recovery focus, and even better nutrition.<br />
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Ryan was the son of a local triathlete. By the age of three he was on his second battle with cancer. Everyone came together and created this race to support Ryan. Unfortunately, he lost his battle. But the race and the memories continue.<br />
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As an interesting self experiment, here are some of my stats that will be tracked over the next 24 weeks:<br />
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<ul>
<li>Body Weight - 184lbs</li>
<li>Percent Body Fat - 12%</li>
<li>Percent Body Water - 64%</li>
<li>Percent Skeletal Muscle Mass - 74lbs</li>
<li>Bone Mass - 13lbs</li>
<li>Swim Pace - 1:55/100 (no snorkel!)</li>
<li>Bike Pace - 18.8 MPH (in Zone 3)</li>
<li>Run Pace - 10:45/mile (in Zone 3)</li>
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Obviously the goal is to improve all of those. Specific goals would be:</div>
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<li>Lower body fat a couple of percentage points to 9% ideally</li>
<li>Increase muscle mass by a few pounds to improve power production</li>
<li>Increase cardiovascular capacity so HR zones stay the same but pace improves</li>
<li>Have fun!</li>
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So there's RyanMan, a couple of Spartans, HeatWave, RideYellow, and Southern Magnolia. Should be a fun season. We'll see!</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-55581617005076970342017-02-06T20:42:00.001-06:002017-02-06T20:42:02.978-06:00SPARTA!!! in 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My plans usually involve things that scare me. If only a little. And the training this year is scary. So much. So intense. Trying to raise the bar in 2017. Trying to get more serious. More dedicated. Immersed. Today's training included: back squats, stiff-legged deadlifts, V-Ups, and 200m sprints with THIS sixty pound bastard across my shoulders. And we're only getting started!<br />
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The plan is to do a Spartan Trifecta. Three races a Sprint (3-4 miles,) a Super (6-7 miles,) and a Super (12+ miles.) All in this year. The road trip will go through Georgia, North Carolina, and South Carolina. And Liam will be joining me for the first one, if not ALL, of them!<br />
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So Spartan, here we come. March 18th: the Scottish Thunder will be brought!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-89757452981078099602017-02-05T21:01:00.002-06:002017-02-05T21:01:58.231-06:00The Road To Tradition 2017 - Bike Maintenance<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Duncan from <a href="http://trihardsports.net/">Tri Hard Sports</a> came by the training camp today. Walked everyone through changing their first time. Went over lubing the chain. Talked about the importance of cleaning off all the gear after a long ride. Great to have Duncan's advice as he brings a wealth of experience, a focus on customer service, and an amazing talent for breaking complex problems into simple solutions for folks who have no idea where to start tackling things like blown tires and funky chains. If you're ever in need of bike support, Duncan's the right resource!<div>
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Meanwhile, one of my Clydesdales, Luke, and Onnie brought the thunder to Rock & Roll NOLA this morning. Couldn't join them due to obligations and complications (no surprise there) but they did great and made us all proud. Alvie. especially. He messaged me at one point and said: "WALL!" But having trained with him so many times my response was: </div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Walk. Breathe. Shake it out.<br />Get on your long, fast walking pace. Seen you WALK almost 13min/mile.<br />Get on that pace and you got sub 3hrs. Keep moving. Keep breathing. You've got long legs. Use em.</blockquote>
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Less than an hour later he wrote:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Under 3, my legs are rubber</blockquote>
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BOOM! That happened. Take your dreams, work hard, make them a reality. Need proof? Check out Alvie. He earned his medal today! </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-64935481745046564342017-01-29T20:00:00.000-06:002017-02-01T20:55:48.248-06:00Rescued By RockTape<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHthALtlhHnVIVCrtjR8h09cQ1rgxd0BcfnOPtyl8AUjf23tmIOWFfj4trCOlX3oMBoK3bL8FddryjLkgup10wNuaapFWyxUdGy7kX2y7Ks2qQ3lFQiJWX4l58mI2pZ2B_WyCs/s1600/16299452_1405645632810982_5039553727162435729_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHthALtlhHnVIVCrtjR8h09cQ1rgxd0BcfnOPtyl8AUjf23tmIOWFfj4trCOlX3oMBoK3bL8FddryjLkgup10wNuaapFWyxUdGy7kX2y7Ks2qQ3lFQiJWX4l58mI2pZ2B_WyCs/s200/16299452_1405645632810982_5039553727162435729_n.jpg" width="200" /></a>Mike Tyson infamously said, "Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the mouth," We were half a mile into an eight mile hike on the <a href="http://www.backpacker.com/trips/mississippi/wild-as-a-feral-hog-on-mississippi-s-black-creek-trail/">Black Creek Trail</a>, when an unexpected punch arrived and did its best to disrupt my plans. The second major voyage of the Southern Trail Hiking Club. We met just outside of Wiggins, MS. Slightly overcast. Slightly cold. Everyone full of energy and smiles. No sign of any trouble looming on the horizon. But it was there, coyly hiding just out of sight. Waiting for an opportunity to pounce. And then... it happened.<br />
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First the left boot. Felt like it was dragging. Then flopping. And... yeah... the sole of the boot apparently dry-rotted after too many blazing summers in the garage... and on the trail, the more solid rubber began to detach from leather underside. That boot wasn't going to last very long. And... yeah... the LEFT boot was also dry rotted.... and while crossing HW49, an odd step felt completely uncushioned, because the entire left sole had detached and was sitting in the road, cold and lonely.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7k042d98T6tahKKV3AirK872JSUgtKRer59P3S5PVk30P2nr48-IneTKHe3_G1pZvsbtyE5ToQwVRc_yB0IF3wDtEoFfTMJySXg7VKaZzSgvITt2_hVmtrAL-_vWI8rOQEU2F/s1600/IMG_20170129_115506.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7k042d98T6tahKKV3AirK872JSUgtKRer59P3S5PVk30P2nr48-IneTKHe3_G1pZvsbtyE5ToQwVRc_yB0IF3wDtEoFfTMJySXg7VKaZzSgvITt2_hVmtrAL-_vWI8rOQEU2F/s200/IMG_20170129_115506.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Fortunately, my newly provisioned medical pouch contained a secret ingredient. Lo and behold, the boots ended up being rescued by... <a href="http://www.rocktape.com/">RockTape</a>! A couple of strips over the top. A strip over the toe. A strip over the heel. On BOTH boots. And they proceeded to hold for 7.5 miles. Almost 20,000 steps through mud, rocks, sand, and straw covered hills, that RockTape held those rotten soles in place and helped me get back to the car without going full blown Flintstone.<br />
<br />
So, yes, the punch hurt. But it didn't ruin my plans. And we all had a great time together on the Black Creek Trail.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-84395309716903894332017-01-28T20:56:00.000-06:002017-02-02T21:06:44.335-06:00Frosted Fanny 2016<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhojzyqUPhxbH3fp042C3hr90vF5DdbVmola7IN1jrZMgCO6k0BWqhOzFMiHHaVKVzCdf84MQtdQU7oTVDiDmQRWjSEyCpmbuB2LeccbEEBU9b7E5R_Z3kvA_NBZ55w3SZqE1Vl/s1600/IMG_20170128_083919.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhojzyqUPhxbH3fp042C3hr90vF5DdbVmola7IN1jrZMgCO6k0BWqhOzFMiHHaVKVzCdf84MQtdQU7oTVDiDmQRWjSEyCpmbuB2LeccbEEBU9b7E5R_Z3kvA_NBZ55w3SZqE1Vl/s320/IMG_20170128_083919.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Slightly cold. Slightly overcast. 45 degrees and cloud. But my Clydesdales Crew rocked the Frost Fanny for 2016. Two mile run + 10 mile bike + 2 mile run. And they all finished strong. Very proud of each of them all the time and dedication they've put in this year. They stuck to their plans, paced well, and performed well. Afterward, they all recovered quickly and were smiling ear to ear.<br />
<br />
A good way to start the year. The highlight of my month. And a lot more to come!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-82750293427278796052017-01-25T22:33:00.003-06:002017-01-25T22:33:54.981-06:00Bikes, instead of politics.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqKEdEEsDSQjYY9AUIPvu0MrsalBlLX83ZlwaNSFABrDjn-nJP1phUkI7WHLJs_IwJbGL8Tq_HALR_P6QoJ-VvyD-3tgy_9_93xmZNRH9qvMgiQ5rwvdaGTIIkjnO-3n_9DEuu/s1600/Biking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqKEdEEsDSQjYY9AUIPvu0MrsalBlLX83ZlwaNSFABrDjn-nJP1phUkI7WHLJs_IwJbGL8Tq_HALR_P6QoJ-VvyD-3tgy_9_93xmZNRH9qvMgiQ5rwvdaGTIIkjnO-3n_9DEuu/s320/Biking.jpg" width="195" /></a></div>
<span id="goog_1296210483"></span><span id="goog_1296210484"></span>A funny reaction to the rapidly degrading atmosphere on Facebook today. One of my fitness friends decided to post a picture of bikes, instead of politics. Then tagged others of us, and suggested we do the same. Within hours, it was burning its way across all our feeds.<br />
<br />
A welcomed change. Wouldn't it be great if we all posted something about ourselves, instead of about politics?<br />
<br />
But... isn't that what Facebook is SUPPOSED to be about in the first place? Hrm....<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-40480230271341004002017-01-24T22:18:00.000-06:002017-01-24T22:18:05.950-06:00Like This.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhozssXdXHcostOA5nQYlGf3BZ0P1HiC1VlxFVChm0B3QTegK3MbIoe1Ht32cuPxKl8KbMSrIBol4JoWC6qpu1v4YDRLw1kgRovrLnPVQ2dHJCoBjjMsOud9-TGgK9Cby9cw738/s1600/Days.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhozssXdXHcostOA5nQYlGf3BZ0P1HiC1VlxFVChm0B3QTegK3MbIoe1Ht32cuPxKl8KbMSrIBol4JoWC6qpu1v4YDRLw1kgRovrLnPVQ2dHJCoBjjMsOud9-TGgK9Cby9cw738/s1600/Days.jpg" /></a></div>
Wake @ 0500.<div>
Coach CrossFit @ 0600</div>
<div>
Take Meg to school @ 0745</div>
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Work starts @ 0800</div>
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Work continues until 1930</div>
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Go home, eat, sit back down.</div>
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Work finally ends at @ 2200.</div>
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<br /></div>
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No training.</div>
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No playing. </div>
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No time with the family.</div>
<div>
Endless stress.</div>
<div>
...days like this.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-78387544182545057502017-01-23T20:20:00.003-06:002017-01-23T20:20:46.696-06:00Started, Again<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG5d_FDycKCwm5LC3fjCoeXaqBYS6qJLdXEQn342LwXbL-BGERgwPWLLJEnaRff4FulC79a5KP8maOEQ2triPG4qqQW-HK8xtBWucHYiFCC4RoFmgGWywvfrZd6TTKDBni3i1f/s1600/received_10154803463921590.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG5d_FDycKCwm5LC3fjCoeXaqBYS6qJLdXEQn342LwXbL-BGERgwPWLLJEnaRff4FulC79a5KP8maOEQ2triPG4qqQW-HK8xtBWucHYiFCC4RoFmgGWywvfrZd6TTKDBni3i1f/s320/received_10154803463921590.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
There are never enough hours in my day. Never. Pressures from the day job. Pressures from personal projects. And personal plans. Training several athletes. Training myself. Wife of 20yrs. Daughter of nearly 15yrs. And the son of approaching 18yrs needs to start looking at (gasp) colleges, soon. Non-stop adventures for Your Humble Narrator.<br />
<br />
What gets cast aside? Reading. (My stack of books has to be two dozen deep.) Television. (Not a big loss, there.) Movies. Dates. Drinking (should feel like less of a loss but MAN those drinks were calming.) And catching up with friends & family. Not to mention the sacrifices for work and wounds from 2016. Those scars are still healing. Inside, and out.<br />
<br />
Trying to get started, again: Train better. Compete more often. Coach better. Live, love, and father better. Make up for lost time, and missed opportunities.<br />
<br />
So wish me luck. Whichever way it goes, you'll know first.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-2675158249783933722017-01-01T21:58:00.004-06:002017-01-01T21:58:55.710-06:00Gaps In The Deluge<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV6FZX4lzrCtgQ_NnO-WNnajVZh-C7BEBXdYuNAStDUO2Rqjf8HOvwtKLbXSUI1C0m1-cuwKpDK8Y1V6XadmvQDie1PAp7hM2hJwvudSjs2JoAIP9qYZ7BXKP4S4I42OQd1Rnx/s1600/IMG_20170101_190238.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV6FZX4lzrCtgQ_NnO-WNnajVZh-C7BEBXdYuNAStDUO2Rqjf8HOvwtKLbXSUI1C0m1-cuwKpDK8Y1V6XadmvQDie1PAp7hM2hJwvudSjs2JoAIP9qYZ7BXKP4S4I42OQd1Rnx/s320/IMG_20170101_190238.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
The storms from last night continued through most of today. Sometimes the rain appeared to be going sideways as great gusts of wind caught it.<br />
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Escaped our confinement briefly to walk around the neighborhood with Cindy. (Was supposed to run. That didn't pan out!)<br />
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During another gap in the deluge, Glenda & Tolar stopped by mid-day. To wake The Edgy Teens and touch base. Happy New Years and tales about growing up in the balmy depths of South Mississippi.<br />
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And during a final lapse in the waves of rain, we went to see Star Wars: Nobody Bathes, Interesting flick. Bit predictable. Bit of a divergence from the norm. Better writing. Better acting. Stellar effects. Much enjoyment by everyone involved.<br />
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Afterwards, bit of the ol' Guitar Hero for my Edgy Teens. Apparently the position of the mouth is critical to their success. Meg did well. Liam played on a level so difficult that my brain couldn't process the action. And yet they both earned nearly perfect scores. Breath taking to watch these kids in action. "Blessed," is the phrase we use most often. And we continue to enjoy it while it lasts.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-79003618158929549492016-11-06T21:24:00.001-06:002016-11-06T21:28:21.171-06:00Peter Anderson Festival - 2016<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9f28Ms7-HtmQjgqjew_7LIGQJrYy-P_sBtXee3G1RHxfI0FhK8bQscdII_20rmKVx53RJqfvZHVGcpeaiAHdrOGVfy65_VCc5EYBdluJPd7mlBsarJH2SgQXVUl-4Xcf7Smki/s1600/IMG_20161106_113637.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9f28Ms7-HtmQjgqjew_7LIGQJrYy-P_sBtXee3G1RHxfI0FhK8bQscdII_20rmKVx53RJqfvZHVGcpeaiAHdrOGVfy65_VCc5EYBdluJPd7mlBsarJH2SgQXVUl-4Xcf7Smki/s200/IMG_20161106_113637.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
Took Cindy to <a href="http://www.peterandersonfestival.com/">The Peter Anderson Art Festival</a>, in Ocean Springs, this morning. From nearly zero steps on Tuesday to three miles of art festival on Sunday! Over 500 exhibitors. All manner of arts and crafts and tattoos and food and Daisy Dukes and a beautiful parade of slow eclectic Southerns strolling the streets of one of the most laid back towns on The Gulf Coast.<br />
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Saw art that reminded us of The Girl. Saw art that reminded us The Boy. Art that reminded us of our parents. Our friends. Shakespeare. Each other. Even... the dog!</div>
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Then lunch at <a href="http://www.woodysroadside.net/">Woody's</a>. Bison for He. California Burger for She. Nearly 6800 steps, today. And all is right in the universe. For now.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirZn_kvrmfA0UMtWXg_wB1cmPd9ulWrNIZFFie8N86ZmXBum_Z-NyLnRTAHBvAimXDmVsqWxPtbugVYibDBumYNCiG5-2exL6lD3YqNvT9ccGnC2S2UHQtP7HRAROaWaTERMff/s1600/IMG_20161106_104104.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirZn_kvrmfA0UMtWXg_wB1cmPd9ulWrNIZFFie8N86ZmXBum_Z-NyLnRTAHBvAimXDmVsqWxPtbugVYibDBumYNCiG5-2exL6lD3YqNvT9ccGnC2S2UHQtP7HRAROaWaTERMff/s200/IMG_20161106_104104.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN55cUSfWpNCBnvqTxjbCkq8lX6KXleuPsiyUXx8njFr51kSQPRWfaskqPsPsutcwDYJF-efqOKPC7n9fVsT29Eevp9JulJxCphdJHvnTWx8_hvpxpmM7PX1ndwcjkBnc3pEnz/s1600/IMG_20161106_102111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN55cUSfWpNCBnvqTxjbCkq8lX6KXleuPsiyUXx8njFr51kSQPRWfaskqPsPsutcwDYJF-efqOKPC7n9fVsT29Eevp9JulJxCphdJHvnTWx8_hvpxpmM7PX1ndwcjkBnc3pEnz/s200/IMG_20161106_102111.jpg" width="177" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkdXez9c0WoqDAkaoVYNV2PAzlCIfxLFt7d8Y59btveljWhdhcr5_9-cB4_Zh1zRwkhH8J3J-U6BHhXdUctky53e6TFFWMFpoV-LQArbXx0AuUPHpxpBARCk4U0bj_BcQIJjjc/s1600/IMG_20161106_102535.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkdXez9c0WoqDAkaoVYNV2PAzlCIfxLFt7d8Y59btveljWhdhcr5_9-cB4_Zh1zRwkhH8J3J-U6BHhXdUctky53e6TFFWMFpoV-LQArbXx0AuUPHpxpBARCk4U0bj_BcQIJjjc/s200/IMG_20161106_102535.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-51502983736647130732016-11-05T21:04:00.000-05:002016-11-06T21:17:49.063-06:00Stepping Up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYmjZ_Y4ZDHOe1FF-Bo_4jq0-MCxz6XIA9TnGyuVzSOxy87RVDK9mo6Iyh_mZ503_HOwLcyHsNeO4gTWJ6JjIy9udl8TPDW_ubjkLZVSi2v_VnkIa-_ww6Ypdeyk7OpaxsvHg4/s1600/Steps.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="136" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYmjZ_Y4ZDHOe1FF-Bo_4jq0-MCxz6XIA9TnGyuVzSOxy87RVDK9mo6Iyh_mZ503_HOwLcyHsNeO4gTWJ6JjIy9udl8TPDW_ubjkLZVSi2v_VnkIa-_ww6Ypdeyk7OpaxsvHg4/s200/Steps.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
First weekend of increased mobility in the wake of The Procedure. Have been increasing my volume of steps each day since ditching The Blue Crutches.<br />
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<ul>
<li>Wednesday: 1703 steps</li>
<li>Thursday: 2430 steps</li>
<li>Friday: 5740 steps</li>
<li>Saturday: 6383 steps</li>
</ul>
<div>
Very happy with the direct of my recovery. And overall progress. Very little pain. Most of my non-fitness activities have returned to their norms. And once the stitches are removed (on Wednesday) there should be an opportunity to introduce some mobility work and maybe some light training. In the meanwhile, it is just one day at a time.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Covered all the steps today by visiting the Long Beach Farmer's Market, then went to hang out with my parents for a while, and finally had lunch with RPG. Enjoyed catching up with everyone and getting out of the house for several hours. </div>
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Wrapped up the day with a walk through the neighborhood, some MMA on television, and a marathon round of Clean Up Jon's Bookmarks (six years worth!) </div>
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Great day! Looking forward to many more in the future.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-28063959963632804012016-11-04T21:01:00.000-05:002016-11-06T21:01:21.006-06:00Leaving Wells Fargo - Part II - Kids Accounts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtgDe6okjDVUV4dZ1PfVeMR8kOsl5QmZgvLHMJbP_lH2HHINyzGyjBCEH7d2QCStKFjfUe0B4HMVzOx3hougwC47xCeKrzjLZPYk9uj6tc6avTK0AzMuQ2yFxoqXXzncAM46C1/s1600/IMG_20161104_132526.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtgDe6okjDVUV4dZ1PfVeMR8kOsl5QmZgvLHMJbP_lH2HHINyzGyjBCEH7d2QCStKFjfUe0B4HMVzOx3hougwC47xCeKrzjLZPYk9uj6tc6avTK0AzMuQ2yFxoqXXzncAM46C1/s200/IMG_20161104_132526.jpg" width="153" /></a></div>
The second stage of abandoning <a href="https://www.wellsfargo.com/">Wells Fargo</a>. This time we're opening accounts for The Kids. Somewhat easier because they're young and don't actually have a legal say in the matter. Nor are they legally required to be involved. Slightly complicated by trying to get <a href="https://navigatorcu.org/">Navigator</a> to match the exact same setup we' are currently using. Nothing to difficult or unusual. Each kid has their own account. We're their owners. That sort of thing. But two kids means twice the work. <div>
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How did it go? Good and Bad. </div>
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<div>
Good: It was easy. The service person did all the complicate mumbo jumbo. Lots of clickity clackity on the keyboard mostly. Some scanning. Some online entries. We only had to sign on an electronic signature pad. About a dozen times. Per kid! Amount of actual effort required by us? Bring in ID for everyone, sign two dozen times. Done. </div>
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Bad news: It took significantly longer than planned. About half an hour per account. So an hour all together. Based on my initial opening of the count, we budgeted thirty minutes, total. </div>
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What should we have done differently? We should have dropped off copies of the kid's ID, gone to lunch, then come back when all the paperwork was done and spent <5min dance.="" div="" doing="" signature="" the=""><div>
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Next step? Setup direct deposits at work. The spice must flow! But we do not know if the funds will flip in two weeks, four weeks, or more. Have to check out the exact timing, then plan accordingly.</div>
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Verdict so far? Very easy! Navigator is modern, quick, friendly, provide superior customer service, and they're all about maximizing value to its members, not maximizing profit for their shareholders at the expense of their customers.</div>
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Stay tuned for more. And if you want to help fix the problems with our economy, start looking for a Credit Union in your neck of the woods. We'll get it done, together!</div>
</5min></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-84369725153461018722016-11-03T20:42:00.000-05:002016-11-03T20:42:44.325-05:00Won't Be Missed <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Fcj03q7-F_BUDdBpwvTNyiNw7hS7_-dbbG7VMDRZguU3GVkxdbkNba9eK4VOB1H1Kb6lA1I90WoxNrKQXeptgApD009zpD1-gjNwnTT8FN94sNlPq7-KmmpJGa21nd4Fhm_Q/s1600/IMG_20161103_202048.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Fcj03q7-F_BUDdBpwvTNyiNw7hS7_-dbbG7VMDRZguU3GVkxdbkNba9eK4VOB1H1Kb6lA1I90WoxNrKQXeptgApD009zpD1-gjNwnTT8FN94sNlPq7-KmmpJGa21nd4Fhm_Q/s200/IMG_20161103_202048.jpg" width="149" /></a></div>
Progress continues at a steady pace. Still fairly pain free. (Aside from the occasional pinch of stitches pulled too tight too quickly . . .) Haven't needed even the first bit of medicinal relief, even on the day of the procedure. Just a slight hint of blood appearing on the bandage after a day of walking on it. No crutches for the second day in a row. And my gait is improving!<br />
<br />
So, with little fanfare but much respect, it is time to say goodbye to my friends: the blue crutches. You served me well and faithfully until the end. Your aid was greatly appreciated. But you won't be missed.<br />
<br />
And Your Humble Narrator shuffles of to his next slow milestone. But looking forward to future adventures and opportunities to excel.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-19229468057277849902016-11-01T20:47:00.000-05:002016-11-01T20:47:07.333-05:00On My Feet<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnPaFNqF4-S7DYFR4jC9VLpRfZvq05hyG4Q0WimW5IBRZ2vL1_naYGmjCfRI6MMyDzTegAyWLDO-uc1tsPkiLZrTy_amU_TZIdjBAQhPF66NCwALVSjVTOjkjPeDixseL5jXKY/s1600/IMG_20161101_193812.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnPaFNqF4-S7DYFR4jC9VLpRfZvq05hyG4Q0WimW5IBRZ2vL1_naYGmjCfRI6MMyDzTegAyWLDO-uc1tsPkiLZrTy_amU_TZIdjBAQhPF66NCwALVSjVTOjkjPeDixseL5jXKY/s320/IMG_20161101_193812.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
My journey to recovery continues, at full speed, and today brought several "Firsts:"<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>First day back to The Office since having surgery. It went well as everyone was supportive and eager to help when needed. Lunch took longer than usual. Breaks did, too. But one of my favorite projects came closer to fruition and we're starting to see light at the end of the tunnel. </li>
<li>First shower in a week. Been taking an awkward bath, instead. The Wound was sealed inside a Ziplock Bag and my whole leg was propped up, high and dry, on the side of the tub. Not an ideal solution, but it kept things clean and healthy. </li>
<li>First unaided steps! Spoke to the doctor today she said that some exploratory steps were permissible. As long as it didn't hurt (too much) and it did not cause any damage to the exposed portion of The Wound. So that happened. And the crutches have gone unused since we all came back home. </li>
</ul>
<div>
Feels good to be fully upright and on my own legs again. Six days of half-hopping everywhere was definitely twisting up my back. Hopefully recovery continues at this pace,the wound keeps closing, and there are races and coaching and more in my future. For now, it is a victory just to be on my feet. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-37872320601502929512016-10-30T21:25:00.002-05:002016-10-30T21:25:58.651-05:00Chicks Dig Scars<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK97B_hC8KPbQdImhxcOTdWpHKga3Px3ctNm9RLL9p9aTSRTNloFGKtHn7Lw2whog865eVva6xqUGFn1wR-A8UAS-oZRv7VLe6tyG1KXLN-0z_9TR6HeTLo8jCx1lGNcn4riwf/s1600/IMG_20161030_111740.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK97B_hC8KPbQdImhxcOTdWpHKga3Px3ctNm9RLL9p9aTSRTNloFGKtHn7Lw2whog865eVva6xqUGFn1wR-A8UAS-oZRv7VLe6tyG1KXLN-0z_9TR6HeTLo8jCx1lGNcn4riwf/s200/IMG_20161030_111740.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
The irony is not lost on me. The first 35+ years of my life were idly spent without any sincere form of fitness. While there was a definitely a good degree of happiness involved in many of those years, most of my 30s consisted of a slow spiral of deterioration mixed with a hybrid dose of depression plus personal disappointment.<br />
<br />
Flat forward to today. And my mood apparently sours after just five days without some form of fitness. (Aided by the soreness of crutches rubbing against uncushioned ribs, the Good Leg cramping from beating the burden of the Bad Leg, and the constantly uncertainty of when any form of serious activity is even possible again.)<br />
<br />
Yes, yes. A large glass of White Whine. Remember the good news:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Still have the foot. Clean bill of health. Road to recovery. This too shall pass. </blockquote>
Got it. Cheering up. As we speak. Much better now. Thanks!<br />
<br />
Fortunately, the weekend hasn't been a total loss. Spent a great deal of time catching up on digital projects. Watched several entertaining movies based on Marvel graphic novels. Had plenty of time with the family. The house is the cleanest it has been in many moons. And almost the whole week of meals has been prep'ed. So whilst depression has been looming on the horizon, productivity has been rampant.<br />
<br />
For the gluttons out there, a SMALL photo from today's "Airing of the Wound" has been attached. Not my intention to disturb anyone, but several folks have expressed interest. The main concern right now is keeping everything sealed and letting the minor gap in the middle of the excised area to close. Each day has shown an improvement.<br />
<br />
The current thinking is: continue to keep everything immaculately clean, continue to avoid any weight-bearing activities by using the crutches, and hope the "boot" arrives soon. In the meanwhile, IronNerd is hopping around (poorly) resisting the urge to complain.<br />
<br />
Skin graft? No. Physical therapy? Probably not. Scar? Probably so. But, to borrow from my old friend Evel Knievel: Bones heal, and chicks dig scars.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-26103198082424538222016-10-28T21:33:00.001-05:002016-10-30T21:04:38.449-05:00Wounded Or Not <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnr-YQ8NGlQHzaqtYfI9MPZXYg6i2MhDO1d8nYirrRRc__ITySbEgzAFofMYLnbTmJAeR47D-OXGWk0Ocmsa4Cb_1m70kPhFGsRb7Uv9jq63i7GW2AI_OiS9ekpPGds-Oxttb-/s1600/IMG_20161028_152006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnr-YQ8NGlQHzaqtYfI9MPZXYg6i2MhDO1d8nYirrRRc__ITySbEgzAFofMYLnbTmJAeR47D-OXGWk0Ocmsa4Cb_1m70kPhFGsRb7Uv9jq63i7GW2AI_OiS9ekpPGds-Oxttb-/s200/IMG_20161028_152006.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Wounded or not, IronNerd's work is never done. Today's adventures included: hoisting a DHCP service to replacing those lost by a dying router, swapping a UPS that didn't need to be swapped, ordering a 220v outlet at the last possible hour, and scrounging for nearly a dozen network ports on switches that had no holes to fill. The project comes to fruition on Monday. If it goes well, there will be more of them along the same line. If it doesn't go well... ...let's agree that it will go well. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Rest this weekend. Visit The Parents. Prep meals for the coming week. Hopefully heal. And then back in the saddle on Monday. One way or another. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-18723318918243780982016-10-27T22:28:00.000-05:002016-10-27T22:28:01.493-05:00Liam At The Crossroads<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUBeHfXdeksm9P9OKTEfsZjuEiP75m3jazv4B_piW1Z1IaFycQUL9c10B7vojVGu5k2lK9cLrUSsfT7UR002Q5jvVAF8Ndjp05uOxl7cZCxKUgVXz21HYA83-B-wGPZxUYnLeA/s1600/Robert+Johnson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUBeHfXdeksm9P9OKTEfsZjuEiP75m3jazv4B_piW1Z1IaFycQUL9c10B7vojVGu5k2lK9cLrUSsfT7UR002Q5jvVAF8Ndjp05uOxl7cZCxKUgVXz21HYA83-B-wGPZxUYnLeA/s200/Robert+Johnson.jpg" width="146" /></a>Liam visited the Crossroads today. Rosedale, Mississippi. Where Robert Johnson sold his soul to The Devil. Exchanged it briefly for musical genius.<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Raleway;"> Man sitting off to the side of the road on a log at the crossroads says, “You’re late, Robert Johnson.” Robert Johnson drops to his knees and says, “Maybe not.”</span><br />
<br />
Whirlwind tour for Liam & The Blue Notes: Rosedale, Tunica, Memphis. Cotton fields. A juke joint. Grave sites. Historic grocery stores. Lonely back roads. All too present in the thick social airs of Mississippi. Some things never change. Not down here. Time doesn't touch us in certain places.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPYE6tnvYMSlKDsPks1jv8bxBAZMn3SqevJxIJg_Hh-9fOd-gSPXY9ltZ7Y6Jtdr0wjqzs7e8rpYcL9BAe_1WeoP3K_YbX-BRlvBl3jpu7KnproYFCrcndf3Zcx1f1VSgPeRZ/s1600/Emmett+Till.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPYE6tnvYMSlKDsPks1jv8bxBAZMn3SqevJxIJg_Hh-9fOd-gSPXY9ltZ7Y6Jtdr0wjqzs7e8rpYcL9BAe_1WeoP3K_YbX-BRlvBl3jpu7KnproYFCrcndf3Zcx1f1VSgPeRZ/s200/Emmett+Till.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Liam's goup passed a sign commemorating the site where 14yr old <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emmett_Till">Emmett Till's body</a> was pulled from the river. The sign was riddled with bullet holes. And never repaired. Sadness and hate in a long embrace. 21st century and this is how we show our respect. How we come together as a culture and try to overcome stereotypes. Or do we just wear these scars a little too proudly? Some things never change. And we wonder why The Aliens won't talk to us?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFrcsclmfHzV9Ie_f98Za-31GNabGf7XEhdTUQkIPbYEVT-m-SVb2OBLkbjuewQdAl1AU683OPXJ0r8B-k-mvFQC_OUB5iFdqkj8LmyijmEjkme4TvJufCN3v5anfTzNL6R02H/s1600/Liam+And+Sara.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFrcsclmfHzV9Ie_f98Za-31GNabGf7XEhdTUQkIPbYEVT-m-SVb2OBLkbjuewQdAl1AU683OPXJ0r8B-k-mvFQC_OUB5iFdqkj8LmyijmEjkme4TvJufCN3v5anfTzNL6R02H/s200/Liam+And+Sara.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
But hopefully Liam and his generation can leave behind such petty differences. Learn from the mistakes of all our previous generations. Start new, productive conversations. And maybe he strike one up with a higher intelligence, one my generation was willing, or able, to meet.<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-87639669360397493132016-10-26T22:35:00.004-05:002016-10-26T22:35:59.476-05:00Procedure Du Jour<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQTEXc7D5I1ybfa6yYiPHJWE_003LirLzC2KWxTwrpAZxGdL0ynGnTTy8jFtk2kPQvR6NzxwxnNmkIATYt4CDL3SvOU4yKtaDSg-OdLX-Uvj-BFiptsswLTINn_UHZOvzIUnT3/s1600/IMG_20161026_133533.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQTEXc7D5I1ybfa6yYiPHJWE_003LirLzC2KWxTwrpAZxGdL0ynGnTTy8jFtk2kPQvR6NzxwxnNmkIATYt4CDL3SvOU4yKtaDSg-OdLX-Uvj-BFiptsswLTINn_UHZOvzIUnT3/s200/IMG_20161026_133533.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
Yes, yes. The Procedure Du Jour. But you must suffer through my telling of it!<br />
<br />
0530 - Up with with two women (My Bride & The Girl) who did not wish to be up at 0530 and dealing with the woes of Your Humble Narrator.<br />
<br />
0600 - The Girl is deposited at Her Grandmother's House, where she ponders the universe from a 14yr old's perspective, and waits to be dropped off at High School while My Bride continue to drive the two of us to Memorial for The Procedure.<br />
<br />
0700 - Admitted to Pre-Op Whereupon a scrub-festooned army of different nurses randomly visit for the next two hours. Your Humble Narrator figured it was to argue over who was to do the sponging, later. But it turned out to be formalities such as: Do you have any dentures or piercings? When is the last time you ate? (Which was asked at least five times!) Are you allergic to anything? (Just pain...) Who will make medical decisions for you in the event that you are not able to? And can I get you a blanket, or anything? (Since they are apparently required to keep the Surgical Unit at the precise temperature that begins to slow your heartbeat, without throwing you into full blown hypothermia!) Oh yeah, at some point, one of the Inquisitors came through and decided their lovely veins on my arm were not as lovely as the veins on the back of my hand and put the IV in there.<br />
<br />
0900 - Wheeled into OR4. Slid me onto a separate, much colder bed, removed my glasses and placed an antiseptic-smelling mask over my face in one very ninja-like movement, and plunged me into darkness after only twice saying, "Smooth deep breaths." The rest was silence.<br />
<br />
1000 - Or thereabouts - The high tides retreat and Your Humble Narrator's brain comes up for its own air. Felt decidedly hung over for the first few minutes as Arthur ("Call me Art") asks "How are you doing?" and takes my vital signs every 74 seconds. After the fifth rotation of questions and vitals, my eyes are able to stay open as the dizziness from the Anesthesia Hangover has subsided and my answers likely become more coherent and less pseudo vulgar.For the next hour, the excitement continues to mount. First one of my neighbors goes into anaphylactic shock and is hit with multiple unsuccessful syringes of epinephrine before they re-sedate her and wheel her off to the ICU.Then a new neighbor is brought in, after receiving "back surgery." As his brain wakes up, it decides that combat is called for. Immediate combat! His body responds by kicking off the sheets, to the shock and awe of his nurse (Bart (Yes, that was his name!)) And when The Combatant decides to start at the various lines and tubes cleverly plugged into him, my nurse ("Call me Art") leaps into action to support the embattled Nurse Bart. Being the most lucid patient on the unit certainly had its advantages and thankfully no additional aid was required for me. Because none was available. But the free entertainment helped pass the time.<br />
<br />
1100 - Back to the Pre-Op, where My Bride awaited.......patiently. (*rimshot*) My doctor had already left instructions for future care. An impressively strong prescription was ordered. Additional wraps put in place as soon my first attempt at standing resulted in a trickle of blood being released from the initial wraps. The Mandatory Itchy & Flimsy Gown was removed, to replaced by Nerd Approved street clothes. And then the long Wheel Chair Ride of Shame back to our car.<br />
<br />
1200 - Stopped to be measured for a "brace" that won't arrive for 7 - 10 days later.<br />
<br />
1300 - Home again. Without a skin graft. And surprisingly NOT in any form of pain or discomfort. But quite hungry, having not eaten all day.<br />
<br />
And that, My Friends, concludes The Procedure Du Jour. Further updates will be provided as they become available. Including unfiltered commentary about the lack of fitness which will follow...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-22545447400520543002016-10-25T21:49:00.000-05:002016-10-26T22:01:14.116-05:00A Last Supper<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Stupid procedure tomorrow. 0630. Broad excision around Ye Ol Aberration on the left ankle. Should be a lot of fun. Including the anesthesia. Nothing quite like another human taking full responsibility for your breathing while another take a knife to you! There's always a risk of complications with THAT process, by itself. (Flashback to my Grandfather's botched anesthesia!)<br />
<br />
So Cindy took me to The 27th Avenue Burger Bar, for a last supper. Just in case. Your Humble Narrator ordered The Woodsman, which is a venison burger topped with foie gras, caramelized onions, local salt-cured bacon strips, and a fried egg. Along with a side of Parmesan fries. My Bride partook of the Crabby Patty & Chips.<br />
<br />
Washed it down with a couple of <a href="http://smalltownbrewery.com/our-beers/nyfrb/">Not Your Father's Rootbeers</a>. Discussed the Rap/Gospel fusion as well as random hookers that plagued me at the Roach Motel during my early months in Atlanta as well and the Legendary Ghost Pimp.Great food and a great time with The Beloved. If tomorrow is my last day, tonight was a good night for A Last Supper.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-47639398775980853602016-10-24T21:42:00.003-05:002016-10-24T21:42:41.290-05:00Before Bed<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMlVqYSnTfSqF2Q8RuR7c7GgrmAKdCJaeT6uFhq0uxtVsW3QVsQyfpV9atnHBFrRcgMtR61g6nKpTnUWI1JxdN3LKOUw3VcWFpO8tQGOBy1oULbigjzHVz4IciQuZyHphi7eFf/s1600/IMG_20161015_173357.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMlVqYSnTfSqF2Q8RuR7c7GgrmAKdCJaeT6uFhq0uxtVsW3QVsQyfpV9atnHBFrRcgMtR61g6nKpTnUWI1JxdN3LKOUw3VcWFpO8tQGOBy1oULbigjzHVz4IciQuZyHphi7eFf/s200/IMG_20161015_173357.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
Whatever you do, DO NOT experiment with your <a href="https://www.trainingmask.com/">Training Mask</a> before you go to bed!!! There won't be much sleep involved! And stray thoughts will be bouncing off the inside of your skull like Ricochet Rabbit! Prescription for insomnia right there. Trust me. Here there be monsters. Definitely not one of my smarter moves and it won't be repeated in the future.<br />
<br />
(But the mask is an interesting tool, if you use it correctly (and during the proper time!))Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-10929985013690475422016-09-05T20:58:00.001-05:002016-09-05T20:58:25.889-05:00River Roux Training - Week 2 <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ-A47Eto4z-1KFMTQfPEm9G_LMHorBUptRbzK82Z1EB80De86wVwqZWbep4ijaJB9KZWg4MQuMwHS7ZH1AgdZmHtsrfebPVkPx3AbKkk0_uUM6-8COouxJ_bw4IGNGpkEuadx/s1600/a95179_8ac6b177639941e7aabe659480e50e37-mv2.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ-A47Eto4z-1KFMTQfPEm9G_LMHorBUptRbzK82Z1EB80De86wVwqZWbep4ijaJB9KZWg4MQuMwHS7ZH1AgdZmHtsrfebPVkPx3AbKkk0_uUM6-8COouxJ_bw4IGNGpkEuadx/s200/a95179_8ac6b177639941e7aabe659480e50e37-mv2.png" width="200" /></a></div>
A poor training week by anyone's standards. Missed several workouts, flats during a ride, an unexpected request, missed mobility often, and briefly fought off a cold. But the highlights did include: an amazing ride and an interesting run.<br />
<br />
Rested, completely, today. (Even had a great night's sleep!) Liam carpooled back to MSMS. Prep'ed my food for the week. And went to see <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2582782/">Hell Or High Water</a> with Cindy. (Great movie with an exceptional sound track.)<br />
<br />
Hoping to get back on schedule, tomorrow. Swim, bike, mobility, and steps. Or at least some combination of those. Who knows what tomorrow brings for Your Humble Narrator.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16199413.post-87723686359641297632016-08-28T20:18:00.001-05:002016-08-28T20:18:56.630-05:00Did well enough<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0v_2bw1r67Z7ZE6EGT4TXo8luErWCeT400UcWtnBXlunccyre3S9DZ1HDd38-Ls_dqN3BUCeztwnGclw_O469nsykTAmdfeGSnrWuP4gQYdFUZiZopA_26dHffezijHFuBjbd/s1600/FB_IMG_1472423745565.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0v_2bw1r67Z7ZE6EGT4TXo8luErWCeT400UcWtnBXlunccyre3S9DZ1HDd38-Ls_dqN3BUCeztwnGclw_O469nsykTAmdfeGSnrWuP4gQYdFUZiZopA_26dHffezijHFuBjbd/s200/FB_IMG_1472423745565.jpg" width="200" /></a>Nothing like a little 47 mile bike ride to start your morning. Luke, Jack & Onnie, Jen & Chris, and IronNerd.<br />
<br />
The usual route around Robinwood, then over to the Traditions course, up to 67, to Loraine Cowan, and back again.<br />
<br />
You can imagine how it went: long, hot, sweaty, and ultimately boring. Worst of all, it only burned 1300 calories!<br />
<br />
Happy with the outcome. Did well enough. Hopefully it continues to improve.<br />
<br />
We shall see.<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00407680469425620572noreply@blogger.com0