Water & Wrestling

Great day in the gym. New personal record. Forty laps. 2000 meters. Had maybe 10 more in me, too. But didn't want to push it. Very happy with my performance today. Eager to try open water. When the weather permits. Get those fears put to rest and move on with my life.

Interesting guest appearance at the gym, too. As I'm driving up, I noticed a HUGE motor coach. Just as I swipe my badge, a young, pumped-up, short-haired guy with a deep, raspy voice told the front desk attendant, "I'll be right back," all Arnold-like, then went to the motor coach. She didn't know who he was. I'd never seen him in the gym before today. And who the heck drives around in a multiple hundred thousand dollar private bus?

Wait a second! Isn't the WWE in town tonight? They're filming a show, in Biloxi.

"I think that is John Cena," I told the attendant.

"That's his name. Who is he?" She showed me his sign-up form for the day. "John Cena," across the bottom.

And I explained. Wrestler. Action movies. Video Games. She probably kept his signature. To show her girlfriends.

After he returned from his bus, he stopped for a picture with me. Nice guy. Very mellow. Just snapped one shot, wished him a good workout, and left him alone. I'm sure he didn't need any Redneck fanboys stalking him in a Mississippi gym on a Sunday morning.

By the time I left, about a dozen other wrestlers were there. All  buffed-up young guys. Jobbers, I think. Didn't really recognize most of them. Polite and funny. Nursing their aching joints with bio-freeze and heat wraps. Told me they never know who they're going to fight until right before the show starts. Joking about previous fights. Maybe four locals in the whole gym. And and a dozen of these professional wrestlers working out. Ended up asking me for a good place to eat. Sent them to Buffalo Wild Wings. And said I hope they have a safe show. They probably did. Then moved along to the next show. Living their life on the road. One match at a time.

Another Birthday

Tolar turned four, today. Day after my Mother's birthday. All the Grandparents, Cindy, our kids, and I ventured over for some dinner and cake and icecream and singing. A good time with the family and another year under Tolar's belt.

Biloxi - Reindeer Run 2010

Another weekend, another 5K run. This time in Biloxi. At eFitness. A much nicer morning than last weekend. No bugs. Less cold. But fewer people. I planned a little better for this one, too. I didn't work out last night (unless eating Italian food is a workout.) And I didn't have anything to drink this morning. I think my performance last week was hampered by the swimming from the night before. And I know I had to pee the whole time, last week. So I changed tactics.

Seems to have paid off. I ran the race in 29:20. And placed first, for age group. Two minutes quicker than last week! And I only slowed down once, to get a mouth full of water.

Next race is in two weeks. December 26th. Another 5K. In Woolmarket. At this rate, I'm hoping to do a bunch more 5Ks throughout 2011, hit a couple of sprint triathlon, and maybe pick up some 10Ks and half-Iron Man races in 2012. Of course time and my patience may prove otherwise. But I'm going to try.

Projects & A Birthday

Liam finally saw the completion of his grandest experiment of the year: The Penny Project. He has been working on it for several weeks. And I have honestly never seen him put so much effort into something for so long. He randomly picked 1931 as his year and had to find out tons of details from that year. Not only did he have to learn all the details, he also had to put together a costume and present the project to the entire school. Like 600 kids. He did a great job and the final product looked spectacular. (The girl next to him was Catherine and she had 1930!)

After work, my Mom came over. My tradition on December 10th  is to put up our Christmas tree, to celebrate her birthday. I've been doing it since Liam's first Christmas. But today, everyone (except Meg) was tired. And we passed on the tree to go eat at Salute, in Gulfport. Thankfully the kids behaved, the service was quick, and the food was great. Mom and Cindy had seafood dishes. I had Chicken Parmesan. The kids both had pizza.

Great day for Liam. A great birthday meal. And a good visit with my Mom. Not bad, for Friday.

A Semblance of Normalcy

Some left over woes from yesterday: partially tore my thumb from its nail while peeling an orange, Blackberry keeps rebooting, and bah humbug.

Much more focused, today. Hammered out some projects. Cleaned up some piles. Felt good to make serious progress on several fronts. Greatly enhanced my mood.

Concluded my day with a great Back + Bicep workout at the gym. Music raging. Clear minded and focused. Everything coming together. Put some laps under my shoes. Good to run again. Another 5K beckons on Saturday. Hoping to hit a new personal record. 

Brought home some fresh RX scripts. Cindy just noticed one of hers is a "black box"  med. Doesn't know how long she's missed that little bit of trivia. But there are lots and lots of reasons to never touch it again. And that kicked her into Gonzo Mode. Nothing else exists in her mental universe until she takes care of that in the morning. And woe unto her Doctor if he actually gets on the phone with her. But hopefully by lunch she'll have that under control and we can return to normal tomorrow night.  Or at least a semblance of normalcy.

Round and round.

Ever have so much to do that you look at the list and go, "Nevermind, I'm not doing anything!" Why bother when the list never ends? Clobbered busy at work today. Plan on being clobbered tomorrow. And the next. The next. Etc. Even if I took time off, I'd have a list at home to wade through. It just never stops. Ever.

And something is missing somewhere. A whisper I cannot understand. An itch I cannot find to scratch. Knuckles that won't pop. Something. Somewhere. Calling. But I cannot find the source of the sound, let alone make out what it is telling me.

Just not in the right mood to chase my own tail any more. I see the rut I've worn into the floor. It goes nowhere. Round and round, Jon. Round. And. Round.

Circus Night

Started work at 0200 today. Infogen downtime. Too dull to bother detailing. Home by 0900. Some sleep until my phone rings at 1100. Some more sleep until 1300. Pick up the kids from school. Then wait for Cindy to return from some adventure. We head to the Beau for dinner.

Circus Night. Special buffet treat for the kids. Beau Rivage has a double whammy this month. Not only do kids (under twelve) eat free, but locals can get a two-for-one deal. Instead of spending >$70 for all of us, it cost $20 and some change.

They also have a spectacular section of the buffet geared just for the kids. Grilled Cheese Station, fried Mac N Cheese, four different kinds of fries, burgers, corn dogs, chicken tenders, ravioli, cotton candy, popcorn, chips & dips, and all kinds of candies and sweets.

We all enjoyed the menu and had a nice time. Great unexpected treat and nice surprise for everyone. May even do it next week, too!

Fits & Giggles

Heading to bed early tonight. A silly downtime is starting at 0200 and I'm hoping to get maybe 4hrs of sleep. Thought I'd mention some interesting adventures with the kids. They're growing so fast and changing each day. I don't want to forget these lessons they're teaching me.

• Fit - On Saturday morning, after I get home from my run, Liam blows a fuse because he doesn't want to go to the gym. But nobody was even talking about taking him. I wanted to take them to the arts fair in Biloxi while Cindy went to the gym. Boom. Pow. Mister Moody, Liam's evil doppelganger appears. Screaming and yelling and making outrageous statements about our lack of love and his lack of fun. And when we get to the arts fair? Yup, he actually enjoys it. 
• Fit - Saturday evening, after we get home, Meg spontaneously combusted because Cindy wanted her to try chicken or sliced roast beef. Some of Meg's top-of-the-lungs declarations included: "I'd rather starve than eat that!" As well as, "I'm going to die and they're going to cut me open and find my stomach full of paper and crayons!" And, "You're going to have to follow me around with a bucket or I'll throw up everywhere!" Eventually her dinner was a plate of fruit and the next day she tried EIGHT new things at Samurai sushi bar. 
• Giggles - Sunday afternoon, while browsing Lowes, Liam rolls up to a locked door with a keypad on it. In less than 30 seconds he figured out the four digit combo and had opened it. Maybe less than 15 seconds. 
• Giggles - Sunday evening, out of nowhere, Meg decides she wants to figure out origami. She inuits how to make a paper hat then looks up how to make paper whales and a phone and some kind of purse! She wants to do swams, next. Note sure where the idea came from, but now she's folding every slip of paper she finds.

Every day it is a new adventure with these two. They never let me get bored. It is either fits or giggles with them. And I'm enjoying them while it lasts.

Mending Fences

Didn't ride this morning. Wanted to. But my calves and quads and abs are sore. From the run yesterday. Need so much more training on my roadwork. After the long swim on Friday and productive run yesterday, I rested today. Spent my time with the kids and mending fences.

The guy who owned my house before me built the fence himself. His lack of experience and low standards are readily apparent. Very little of it is level. The gates are poorly designed, nearly impossible for Cindy or the kids to open them. And since he used untreated wood, the bottom of fence is completely rotted in places. Huge gaps have been worn between the bottom of the wood and the grass line. Some spots are so deteriorated that the dog could get through them.

So I bought a dozen new pickets, tore out the worst of the ones clinging to life, and used decking screws to fasten down the replacements. All in all, it was quick and easy. No more holes for the dog to plot her escape. But eventually, the entire fence will need to be replaced. If only he had done it right in the first place... But I can always use more projects, right?

Long Beach - Jingle Run 2010

When I purposely drag myself from a warm bed at seven in the morning to run in fifty degree weather, I question my own sanity. Long Beach held its Jingle Run 2010, this morning. Part fund-raiser, part fun run, part 5K.

Supposedly over 300 people signed up for it. Crowd looked close to that size. Big mix of folks. All ages from still-swaddled babies to Grandparents. Cindy's brother (Uncle D) and his family went, en mass. I flew solo.

Strangely a bunch of biting gnats while we were waiting or signing up. Not many folks warming up. Mildly warmer by the time we started. I made it almost half way without slowing. Almost. Personally down hill from there. Had to pee BADLY. Lost my pace. Lost my focus. Toughed it out and finished in 31 minutes, 2 seconds. 108th place, supposedly. I know 107 people didn't pass me on their way back. Closer to half as many. But it wasn't a race to me, it was a goal. And I achieved it. But I'm definitely going to have to work on my running cardio.

After the race, I grabbed some local milk & curd from the Long Beach Farmer's Market, then visited my Grandma for a while. Glad to see her in good spirits and have to remember to spend more time with her. Wanted to help her by installing a replacement security light in her back yard. But it was NOT a One Man On One Ladder Job. So I delegated that one to Dad & Uncle Earl another day.

Wrapped up the bulk of the day by hanging with the kids. We grabbed lunch @ MugShots. The Briscoe Inferno for me. Bishop Burger for Boo. And Chicken Strips for Meg. Good times and good food for everyone involved.

Concluded by a visit to Biloxi's Christmas In The City. Nice break from the norm. Some interesting local artists pedaling their wares. Kids bought some "sand art" that they made. I bought some pastas for me & Cindy. Couple of interesting food vendors. Some folks singing. Not much else for young kids, though. But a good distraction and nice to wind down the day together.

All said and done? Mission accomplished!

Off The Green

Had lunch at Fallen Oak today. My Cousin, the Baron Von Sheckart, is their Head Chef. I try to sneak over whenever they have a computer outage out there. I fix his digital woes. He cobbles together the finest fast food on the Gulf Coast. I get to enjoy it right there, just off the green.

Cindy took a trip to USM, in Hattiesburg, MS, and talked with them about their Nurse Practitioner Program. If she gets accepted and completes everything according to their proposed schedule, she'll graduate in December of 2013. A long hard road she's plotting. But if any one of us can do it, Cindy can.

Concluded my night with a 1200 meter swim. Wanted 1800 meters. But the goggles were pressing into my skull. And I was gassing out. Long day. Dark pool. Not conducive to a good swim.

Going to try to run a 5K event in Long Beach, MS, tomorrow morning. Go to some holiday events after with the kids. Work on the house later. And fight the good fight one more day.

Our own blood

We cannot see the universe. We are in the darkness of a trench, a deep cut, dark water heavier than earth, presences lit by our own blood, little biolumes, heroic and pathetic Promethei too afraid or weak to steal fire, but still able to glow.

My Almost Good Deed

Picking up dinner. Local sub-shop. Something for the kids. Nothing for me. Or the bride. The customer in front of me vividly remembers the Great Depression. Pale-haired. Long, dark, thread-bare jacket. White, flowery dress. Bright yellow socks. Grey sandals. Somebody's wispy Grandmother.

She didn't know which sandwich she wanted. But it had to be $5. The Sandwich Artists, as they're called, kept offering suggestions. And she kept confirming they were $5. Finally, she settled on grilled chicken.

As they're wrapping it, she turns and smiles at me. "I'm sorry to be so picky, honey. I only have $5." And she pulls out some money to show me.

It's a $1. A lone dollar. Wrapped tight as a cigarette.

"Oh," she says. Looks at me. At the bill. "Oh?"

I said not to worry about it. Nodded to the the Sandwich Artist and said to put it on my tab. Then let  Somebody's Wispy Grandmother know I was sure she would do it for me. She gave me a huge smile, patted and rubbed my shoulder. Thanked me for being so kind before  leaving.

I placed my order. And Somebody's Wispy Grandmother flipflops to the door. She goes to put her stray dollar in her pocket. Then stops. She pulls out another bill. Turns around and flipflops back to me. She has a $20 to keep the $1 company, now.

With another smile, she pays for her own sandwich. Then thanks me again for my almost good deed before disappearing into the night.

And everyone has Happy Bellies tonight.

Happiness Is ...

Happiness Is ...

... Talking to a friend and learning I'm more depressed about her breakup than she is. Sometimes, it works out better for both parties involved. I may not agree, but I can be happy that she isn't distraught or floundering for sanity, like I would be.

... A long, sweaty, challenging spin class. Soaked down to my knees. 150BPM. And in this moment, I am happy.

... the fine fine Irish singing voice of my bride.

... My beautiful daughter running for 3rd Grade Class President.

... My dashing son rocking all A's at school. (Though the villain and his friends have recently been disrupting the class.)

Happiness is not "stuff." Happiness is not drama. Or worry. Or regret.

Happiness is enjoying "the now." Being thankful for what you have. And loving your friends and family, while you can.

Me? I'm happy!

Unwelcome News

Mondays are never the high point of my week. Deluge of issues. Picking up projects. Angry phone calls. Double-so, today. Coming off a four-day weekend, I had nearly five hundred emails sulking in Ye Ol' Inbox. And some unwelcome news that friends of mine had split up. I knew it was likely, but I thought perhaps they'd patch things up. I never understood the rift between them. Obviously they never did, either. Even knowing the possible end game, the news still left me grim and fatigued. I skipped the gym (shame on me) and waded unexpectedly into a new maelstrom at home. No relief to be found.

But there's always tomorrow.

Surrounded By Heroes

Work was cheerfully interrupted by a humbling and emotionally moving Veteran's Day ceremony. Gerald N (NE Manager) was the Master Of Ceremonies. Jeff P (NE Tech) was a Color Guard. I was proud to have them representing not only IT but also our entire property and our community. Their amazingly diverse military experience (Gerald as a SpecOps sniper, Jeff in his sixteenth year as a National Guardsman) made my Country Mouse life feel sheltered and insignificant.

Also gave thanks and praise to several other employees such as a Player's Club executive who served in 320 combat missions in Baghdad, Iraq. His toursconcluded when an IED went off near him, taking most of his hearing and earning him a Bronze Star. Another employee, served in Cambodia in 1959. He and 220 other soldiers were captured then held as POWs until 1964. Only he and 39 other soldiers returned home safely. One of the final employees recognized during the ceremony had fought in the Battle of Normandy! I think he was on a bomber that was shot down, crashed, and he survived, earning FIVE purple hearts and a Silver Star.

I live in a small town. It is a small community. We're fairly simple folks. And yet I'm surrounded on all sides by heroes.

Being Able To See

When you're used to being blind for six months, there's something magical about suddenly being able to see. Swimming with my new goggles was surreal. So many new factors to absorb: seeing the other side of the pool, seeing the bottom so clearly, watching the form of my own shadow, noticing the bubbles in my wake as I turn, the slower pace of each lap since I'm able to focus on the bottom moving below me. Weirdest of all, the length of the pool seemed insanely shorter. As if being able to see had suddenly compressed the space.

In my excitement, I set a new personal record: swimming 600 meters non-stop. That was my third set. The first two were 500 meters each. Previously I was doing 4 x 400 meters. The new goggles inspired me. At least in the pool. Hopefully they inspire a similar improvement in open water.

Three Dreams

I usually do not remember my dreams. Did when I was younger. Seems like twenty years without. And last night, I have three. Remembered each:

• Wading through my silly assortment of daily sites and links and RSS feeds, when the pieces start to snap together. I stumble across a quixotic, ghostly trail leading (remember this is a damn dream!) ultimately to the Holy Grail. Cobble my limited cash together. Draw some maps. Conceive some silly plans to snatch this thing and share it with the world. Ended up writing a note to Cindy. And fleeing for the road. On my quest to get the grail. 
• Meg finding a new pet. Like a grimy black civet. Turns out to be some escaped test subject from a government-funded bio weapons experiment. It starts spewing ichor. Meg gets caught by a stray drop. Ghastly transformation. Followed by black helicopters and agents. And I'm raging outside an unmarked hospital demanding to see my child. 
• Geekiest of the three dreams, I find myself in possession of an Iron Man-esque suit of high tech men's ware. But rather than zipping around the globe rescuing kittens & widows, I sit at home, eyeballing the neighbor, who has a black set of armor. I spent my time eyeballing this guy, to see if he'd be a villain or a hero. He was neither. And my time in my suit was for naught.

Anyway. I slept. And I had dreams. Both rare treats. Figured I'd capture the details before they are written in the water of my mind.

In Forty Degrees

I like sleeping late on the weekend. I do not like rising before the sun. Or layering on a pile of clothes while sliding into shorts. Frost on the car windows. No coffee. And I'm in Ocean Springs, MS, getting ready to ride in forty degrees. Small price to pay for health, I suppose. The day did heat up. We rode about fifteen miles. Talking and cruising through the harbor and park and the Visitor's Center. A tough couple of hills. Then back again. Nothing too difficult. But a good ride. Meeting folks and talking. And planning for a longer, harder ride next week. 

Home by lunch time. Dinner at Juan Tequila's. Left the leftovers on the table. Bryce stayed the night. Cindy in bed early. I can't sleep. Nothing new under the sun.

Pooling Alone

Another Friday. Another night pooling alone. Instead of a night listening to local bands, eating fine local cuisine, nursing a nearly-frozen cider, and contemplating a dance or three once the booze takes hold, I wander to the gym. Core and forearms routines in a nearly empty hangar. Then climb into my Mexican wrestling uniform and grind through 1200 meters. Strangely, all the other lanes were full. Though I was the youngest and slimmest (whoa!) occupant. Why is a seventy six degree room warm but a seventy six degree pool is cold?

I'm thankful for my health. And the solace of the gym. Under water my thoughts can breathe. Dance and drink are over-rate, anyway. I'll take sweat and toil. I like the way they hurt.

Hat Champ

Second time in a row, Meg wins the craziest hat contest for her grade. Only five kids in the whole school, and she was one each of the last two times the contest was held. I think Liam's "Tower Of Leaning Hats" (complete with supporting blue monkey) should have at least won an honorable mention. But a victory for dearest Meg is a victory for all of us. Even when she doesn't win she is a bright, blazing star streaking across our skies. Never a dull moment in these parts. Never.

Typical Lunch

Part of this self-inflicted and self-described "lifestyle change" of mine is a divergence away from tasty, filling, and enjoyable foods towards something healthy, quite bland, and boring. I usually skip anything fried or drowning in fat or bad carbs, like white bread, white pasta, pizza, etc.

Take today's lunch, for example. Extremely typical of what I've been eating for months. Grilled turkey & swiss on whole wheat. Veggies. (Red potatoes and whole kernel corn today.) Small salad. And some fruit for dessert. (A quartered pear this time.)

This style of eating may be better for me, but it rapidly grows boring. Especially when the cravings hit. Fierce, prolonged cravings for things like chili cheese dogs, or burgers with blue cheese and butter-sauteed onions. Well-marbled steaks paired with a fully-loaded potato. French fries fresh from the oil, covered in cheese and bacon and gingerly dipped in full-fat Ranch dressing. Those kinds of cravings whisper to me. Endlessly. Even now I hear their distant voices. Calling me to indulge. To grow fat and old with them. They'll make me happier, they say.  Oh so much happier than any salad or soup could.

Each day those voices grow louder. Harder to resist..

Join Or Die

Old Ben Franklin drew his Join Or Die political cartoon in 1754. During Franklin's day, folks believed that you could cut a snake into pieces but somehow magically restore it if you put the pieces together before sunset. Franklin was making a point about the importance of a unified country.

256 years later, we've  forgotten that point. Left versus Right. North versus South versus East versus West. Rich versus Middle class versus the growing masses of Poor. And don't try to fathom the unmentioned racial collisions.

Need an example? Look at our modern election cycles. They are no longer about finding and voting for a candidate we can support. We've degraded to the point where our officials are elected simply because we hate them less than we hate their opponent.

I'm not even paying attention to tonight's results. Doesn't matter who won. Nobody won. We are all going to lose. The illusionary changing of the guard will produce none of the results we're being promised. By either side.

Here are some predictions for our Disunited States:

• Government won't get any smaller
• Spending won't get controlled
• Rights won't be returned
• No entitlements will be diminished
• and taxes for the Middle Class won't be substantially lowered

I'll check in again next year to verify, but I don't see anything getting better. The best we can do is hope it doesn't get worse. And we've seen what happens when we put faith in Hope or Change.

BOOK: Zero History By William Gibson

William Gibson has been one of my favorite authors for more than 30 years. The older we get, the more I dig his writings. His latest is "Zero History." In it the oddly aloof and stylish international instigator Bigend (a Belgian philanthropist and control freak) again hires his favorite former-musician (and the novel's central protagonist) Hollis Henry to investigate the anti-fashion memes of the Gabriel Hounds. And an odd near-modern adventure ensures.

Gibson's been writing near-modern fiction the last half decade or so and "Zero History" is a phenomenal follow up to "Pattern Recognition" and "Spook Country." It isn't really science fiction though it is drenched in technology. Most striking about all of it is Gibson's clean, crisp prose. His economy of word and minimalist, fast-paced narrative makes his works extremely hard to put down. And I usually tear through his books in only a couple of nights. "Zero History" was no exception.

Already looking forward to Gibson's next book. Maybe even catch him on his next tour.  If he writes another book and tours?

Keep Winning

Chased away a case of the Mondays with a good ride. About seventeen miles in forty five minutes. Had to approach a thousand calories worth of sweat and toil.

The usual conflict: Me against myself. I win by pushing just a bit further. A bit faster. A bit longer.

Won today. Plan to keep winning. For a long, long time.

Ungrumpy

Quite ungrumpy today. Swam again. 1600 meters, this time. One whole mile. Thirty two laps. Less than six months ago, I struggled with 100 meters. By the end of summer, I could do one thousand. Now I'm working my way toward 2500 meters. The distance of a half Ironman.

Went ahead an ordered some prescription goggles. Should help with my anxiety in open water. Right now, I can barely see the opposite end of the pool. And when I'm in open water, I can't see the shore from more than about 25 meters away. So I splurged on goggles calibrated to my bad vision.

Anyway, much better mood, now. Amazing what some exercise will do for you.

Grumpy

Bad day. Like a mouth full of broken glass. Washed down with a flaming shot of Bacardi 151. Did not workout. Did not eat well. Did nothing even remotely approaching fun, productive, or exciting. An emotionally empty day. So dry and soul numbing that I'm fairly certain I'm sterile just having survived it.

I don't like days like this. Or their associated nights. I don't want to waste another minute of my life in a waking state of sullen hibernation. Boredom does not become me. We're bitter foes. A whole world outside that door, and I'm tethered to a keyboard on a Saturday night.

I could go on. I won't. Such stark realizations  me grumpy. So I let the house sleep.This too shall pass.

Running Man

Been training on the track a bit more seriously. A bit. The serious part is my dislike of running. Just when I think my cardio is sufficient from biking and swimming, along comes real running. Treadmill work doesn't compare. Elliptical doesn't either. Real road work kicks my ass. Well, my feet mainly. And my joke of a cardio system.

Fortunately, for all my loathing, it is an exceptional workout. Profuse amounts of sweating. Muscle soreness. And a releasing sense of getting tired. Just hope I'm able to adapt. Make some gains. Condition this mortal coil to a point where 5K isn't so strenuous.

At least I have a new goal.

Sarte wrote

"We are our choices." 

Sarte haunts me. But I get him. Now. Only took 30+ years. But I get him. 

It comes down to choices. We are each the product of our choices. Good and bad. If I'd married the first girl I loved, I wouldn't have the children I have now. If I'd never read and memorized Shakespeare, I wouldn't have the bride I have now. If I'd never been caught in corporate "downsizing," I wouldn't have been so willing to leave Atlanta to rejoin my family and friends on The Gulf Coast. What seemed soul rending becomes a blessing, over time. And what appeared golden fades. We make these choices so flippantly, not realizing the potential impacts later. But everything we are or will be is based on our choices. 

It is just a matter of making the right ones at the right time. 

Therein lies my rub.

Mittwoch

Slept much better. Almost touched seven hours. Rare treat for this old geek. Such a difference.

Swam at the gym. 1400 meters. Twenty eight laps. Not graceful. Or  energetic. Wanted 1600 meters. But couldn't clear my head. All these fears of open water. Not seeing or touching the bottom. A fear of sinking. My heart coming up in my throat. Paralyzed. Dropping into the depths. Not the good fear, either. The bad stuff. Filling me with doubts.

Liam's picked up some classes at the gym. Parisi. Hoping it improves his abilities. Maybe he'll develop some physical skills at an early age. Unlike his old man. Cindy does cardio while waiting on him, On her own quest. Meg does ballet and jazz on Mondays. Cheerleading on Wednesday & Saturdays. All of us getting fit.Whoddah thunk?

If only I could sleep as well as them each night...

Sleepless

Should have known. When I need it the most, I'm denied sleep.

Started with the dog. At 11P, Meg sashays out of her room and says, "Look who I found!" Then proceeds to fire up the crying and complaining machine, until I let her go into our bed, and sleep next to her mother.

At midnight, I try to put Meg in her own room. Just as her head touches her own bed, she bolts wide awake. Then proceeds to fire up the crying and complaining machine. Cindy won't go in Meg's room, so once again Meg is back in our room.

I try to sleep on the sofa. But that damn dog. It starts SNORING. And by 1AM, I can't take it. Slip back into my room. Where Meg wakes up and starts fussing.

For most of the next five hours, I get kicked and punched seemingly every couple of minutes And after the fight, I have to get up and go to work, for an early downtime. Being so sleepless is like being hungover without the pleasure of drinking the night before.

And my insomniac's hangover lasts all day.

Six Miles

Skipped the gym today. Liam really wanted to go on a ride. Just the two of us. After the injuries from yesterday, I was thrilled he was so eager to hit the road again. So I came home, changed quickly, and rolled while there was still enough light.

We averaged about 12MPH, better than the 10MPH with his old bike. And road three big laps, for a total of six miles. No injuries. No close encounters or disagreements. Just hanging out and listening to the road hum beneath our wheels.

New Ride

I've been biking around the neighborhood lately. Usually just me and Liam. Sometimes Meg joins us. But mostly Liam and I making vast circles through multiple blocks. Three laps of two miles each. He's been doing a great job, but kept asking for a bigger bike. Something with gears like mine.

Mom found a new ride for him! It's a touch too big. Right now he can barely get his tiptoes on the ground while on it. But he'll grow. And he can ride it, once he gets started. Loves the gears and the obvious speed improvement. Doesn't like such tenuous starts. Part balancing act and part controlled fall.  There's not much complaining though. He realizes he's just getting started and will only improve from here.

He did straddle the center bar, once. That wasn't pretty. But he didn't let it defeat him. He stuck with it.

Meg had a spill of her own today, too. She straddled the center bar, too. Then wiped out on the side of the road. Cut her knee. Lots of tears. But she toughed it out and made it home by her own power.

Proud of both of them. And glad we can enjoy the time outside, together. Being active and happy. Enjoying it while it lasts.

Fall Festival and more

Incredibly long day. Especially after a near sleepless night. But, it is what it is. I've learned to just accept the defeat and move along. Anything else is just a waste of time and effort. I'll have plenty of time to rest later.

Gulfport's Fall Festival, this morning. Meg's entire cheerleading team was on their own float. Cindy was tasked with being an official nurse at the First Aid station. So I managed the kids. Had Meg on site by 8A. They rolled out at 9A.

During the wait, Liam crafted some folk art out of random bits of debris. One minute we're hanging out on a curb. Next minute Liam's name is spelled out between us. I don't recall ever doing that as kid. And he cobbled it together so quickly and effortlessly. He was looking for some bugs, either alive or dead to add to the mix. A live bug would have been hilarious. But his debris graffiti was cool and funny. I wonder how long it lasted before the wind or some cruel stranger found it.

The parade ended at Milner Stadium. All kinds of activities for the kids there. Both of them had a great time at some bean bag throwing booth. When they were in line, the ten kids in front of Liam completely missed the targets with all three of their throws. They received some orange bracelet for their efforts. Liam missed his first two throws, then scores a double prize with the final one. Another five kids miss completely. Meg walks up and scores a double prize on her FIRST throw. Super proud of both of them and they both collected some cool prizes.  Then Meg had her face painted. Liam massaged some pig lungs. And they both fired up some remote controlled robots and had a mass melee. Liam's pincherbot wouldn't pinch. But Meg "p0wned some noobs" with her rampbot. Thought we might have to get some kits of our own and build McDougal-style combatants. Liam wanted a working pincher and Meg wanted something that could throw her enemies out of the ring.

A couple of hours at the gym followed. Back, biceps, and 1200 meters of swimming. Then Liam headed off to Bryce's house. Cindy, Meg, my Mom, and I had Mexican food in Long Beach.

And we all lived happily ever after.

Digging

It comes to this: Cindy & I spent our Friday night together digging an amazingly complicated splinter out of our daughter's wounded pointer finger. Started the pre-op in the dining room. Half an hour of feuding with The Red Headed Fireball produced no results. The final confrontation with the villainous fragment took place in Meg's room. Me and Baby Meg comforting her. While Cindy methodically re-open the trail the splinter took. Using an alcohol-cleansed needle. And lots of patience.A mighty battle, of course. Nurse Cindy emerged the victor. Two tiny pieces of broken wood, defeated. On a bed of gauze.

Afterward, Meg thanked us. Profusely. Apologized for the yelling and the tears. Made the adventure worth our effort.

Felt like she was apologizing for all of it. All the yelling. All the tears.

Our adventures with the kids are worth the effort. Even the painful digging.

Road Work

My first real bike ride today. Some real road work for a change!

All told, about twenty two miles for the round trip. From the Super Walmart, in Pass Christian, over the restored Pass bridge, into downtown Bay St Louis, and back again. On the return trip, coming off the bridge, I hit 29MPH. A record for me. Patrick (barely visible ahead of me in the picture) hit 35MPH. Of course he's an avid cyclist (President of the local bike club) and was rocking a tri bike.

A truly spectacular ride. No traffic. Perfect weather. And a good pace, for a beginner like me. Hoping to go again on Sunday. One thing is for sure, I need more water bottles!

Massage, Mistaken Cleats, and Miners. Oh my!

Swimming clobbers my neck. Feels like one of my vertebrae gets nudged off kilter. And the muscles in the surrounding area stage an organized revolt.Not so much painful as uncomfortable. Like knuckle you WANT to pop, but can't, even though you've tried for hours. Fortunately, I stumbled across a  massage therapist with some spare time. And a heated bamboo stick. Real bamboo. Really heated. And this girl beat my neck and shoulders with it like a carnival pony. Which I desperately needed. Okay, it was more like a rolling pin. But eventually the naughty vertebrae popped back into place. And I'm worlds away from where I was only hours ago.

Renewed, I hit the gym. Wanted to try the cleats from my street bike on one of the stationary bikes at the gym. Let us remember that I'm a keyboard jocket. Not an athlete. And not Lance Armstrong. So I wasn't aware that there different types of cleats. The ones on the bottoms of my shoes, which click into the pedals on my street bike, didn't work at the gym. All that hobbling around the room was for naughty. But I still had my normal shoes handy. And still had an amazing ride.

Brief confession. I was slightly offended every time somebody mentioned the "Miracle Of The Chilean Miners," today. Calling it a miracle is to spit in the face of the hundreds (thousands?) of rescuers and engineers who spent almost 70 straight days doing everything humanly possible to get those miners out of the ground. Instead of praising a divine spiritual creator, I think we should praise the human spirit that made it possible for those men to live and rejoin their friends, families, and loved ones. Chile should be proud of its efforts. To call it a miracle only diminishes it. Men and women made this possible. Those men and women deserve praises and the miners' thanks.

A billion people watched the rewards of their labors. For one day, we were all in agreement that something "good" happened by our own hands. We saw what we can do when we band together for a common cause.

If only we could agree more often...

Chilling

Tested my triathlon "racesuit" today. A single piece, zipper-in-the-front, super tight outfit. Sleeveless. Mid-thigh length trunks. Neither easy to climb into nor notably comfortable. But the seat is slightly padded (for biking) and during an actual race, I wouldn't have to change anything during event transitions. In theory.

First time I swam in more than a week. I don't know if it was the recovery period, the suit, or the fact that the water was cold enough to liquefy helium, but I was carving through the water at a great pace.

Late night, though. The sun had nearly gone. And gnats were prowling. I only put in 800 meters. But they were good, strong laps. Might try some more in the morning, before work. Only hope they aren't so chilling.

Overdue

Hrm. Five months blurred together like chalk on cement after an August rain. Mostly occupied by training, a side project, and a constant state of partial awareness.

The training has been going well. In the pool, I've worked to the point when I can swim a whole mile. I routinely bike 17 - 20 miles. But I'm still working on my form while running. It'll come though. The results? I'm down to 189lbs. (From a high of 217lbs.) The first time I've been below 190 in more than a decade. Sadly, the least I've weighed in my 30s. But my waistline is down from nearly a size 35 to a size 31 (or possibly less by now.)

The kids had a good summer. They're having a great school year. All A's, both of them. And they're both in Gifted Programs.

Cindy's trying to go back to school. Get her Nurse Practioner's degree. Could be finished by December, 2013.

We mark our lives with a series of small victories. But sometimes I lose sight of the path we're trying to take. But I think I've found it. Or something like it.

...and everything.

Interesting moment in time. 10/10/10. 10:10 AM.

It isn't a once-in-823-years event, though. Not sure where that sudden urban myth came from. But this October has the exact same days as 1982, 1993, and 1999. The next October with a repeat occurrence will be 2021.

However, 101010, in binary, represents the number 42. Therein lies the rub.