70.3 Training - Week 1

On the heels of my first Olympic distance triathlon, I've been giving serious thought to: what is next? I've done Sprints. I've done 5K runs. I've done metric century rides. And I finished Rocketman without puking, crying, drowning, or otherwise dying. Thus I find myself asking: what is next?

One logical, but challenging answer is a 70.3. Often called, "a half." Or, better yet, "a half Ironman." Usually somewhere along the lines of: a 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, and 13.1 mile run. Somewhere around seven hours of effort (at my pace) at a cost of between seven thousand and ten thousand calories.

A half Ironman is like nothing I've ever attempted or done before. In fact, I've tried (and failed!) to train for a half marathon (the 13.1 mile run portion of the show!) and ended up injuring myself pretty badly. But I've had a really good season this year, learned from my previous mistakes, I'm much better with my training and nutrition. So I think I can do it, but where?

Turns out that in early November there is a new 70.3 a couple of hours east of here, in New Roads, LA: the River Roux Triathlon. It's the right distances and far enough in the future that I can focus on training my individual weaknesses between now and then.

So I talked to Luke. He is putting a plan together for me. I will train for the next 8 weeks, focusing on my run, then attempt my first 70.3 on November 10th. In the meanwhile, I've been sticking to my previous training schedule and looking forward to kicking it up a notch.

My First Kick

For 9/11, I did something new. Give my first kick. On Kickstarter. To SunVolt: a portable solar power station. Nice little panel. Could charge multiple items. Can use it when I'm training, or on a long trip. Plus it helps out an inventor who never would have been able to bring an item to market on his own.

Long day. Need the karma. Skipped swimming due to a financial fight. Had a lovely disagreement whilst working. And projects kept me late, missing my ride.

Good thoughts. Good thoughts. Good thoughts.And microfunding for SunVolt!

Gotta be some silver lining to these dark clouds. Somewhere.

TOOL: Gerber Crucial F.A.S.T.

I've been a huge fan of my Leatherman Skeletool. We've been inseparable. Four years and counting. Served me well the whole time.

But I have a confession. I've been cheating. I picked up a new tool. A cute little piece of kit from Gerber. Their Crucial F.A.S.T. multitool. And, man oh man, is she a keeper!

The good stuff: smaller, lighter, very easy to open one handed (thanks to the Forward Action Spring Technology powering the blade) and quite nice on the eyes.

The bad stuff: I'm not in love with the actual blade. Sure, it pops out like lightning, but it isn't the most fierce-some thing and doesn't have much heft to it.

As a minimalist, I like the bounty of functionality in a small form factor. And I like the aesthetics. Quick, clean, and sleek. But as a testosterone drenched knuckle dragger, I need something potent and aggressive. Not sure if Crucial F.A.S.T. will be able to keep up with me in the long term, but I'm going to put her through her paces. If the relationship doesn't work, I can always go back to the Ol' Faithful Skeletool.

Whole Wheat Poboy!

I made it more than forty years without seeing a whole wheat poboy! Saw a co-worker order one. And asked for an exact copy of it for myself. Delicious and filling and full of awesomeness. Won't be long before I order another one.

Rocketman Training #6

Another day. Another event to train. Another personal record.

Early morning swim. Felt strong. Felt energized. And pushed through to 40 laps. 2000 meters. Non-stop.

If I'm not ready for Rocketman at this point, I never will be.

Rocketman Training #5

Couple of rest days. Felt good today. Great, even! Anxious for more.

So I did a light run. Only four miles. (When I'm facing six this weekend.) But a personal record for my efforts. 38:57 all together. 4 miles x 9:44 each. I've never been able to get below ten minutes. Until today. And I'm pretty sure I had at least one, if not two, more in me. Good good good run.

Only took two years to get my legs under me...

Pub Grub For Two

It should be easier to be happy. And yet people have to work at it. Create something new between them. When their old happiness dies. Maybe I'm myopic and prejudiced. But I think I try harder. More often.

Like tonight. I called, all spontaneous, and said to meet me for dinner and a drink. Just something quick. And easy. A couple of rounds at the local pub. Margaritas for her. Pints of Woodchuck por moi. We ate some plates of Korean BBQ. And a divey Irish spin on kimchi.

I think it went well. The bbq was well prepared and tasty. Kimchi was interesting, but not my favorite. And drinks are hard to get wrong. So that was my attempt. Reaching for happiness. Maybe it worked. Maybe it didn't. But I tried. That much, I know.

Exhausting

Being me is exhausting. The training. The job. The children. The wife. The car with its broken air conditioner. The dog. The forty-something year old house. And all these damn ideas and aspirations slamming through my head like cold, uncaring missiles. I don't know which part abrades me the most. But today, it was the whole fatherhood piece. Liam going apeshit sideways on me. Blowing up and proclaiming his intent to depart as soon as humanly possible. Telling his mother to shutup and go to her room. And the ensuing punishment.

That's what I hate the most. Having to police somebody's action and issue punitive repercussions. It should be easy. Everyone should work together to be happy. As a group. But then somebody goes off kilter, and I have to be the bad cop. And that shit is exhausting.

Eventually, Liam calmed down. Returned to normal. And went to bed early. Molly guarding him from evil ol' Daddy. Bad cop. Villain in our tale. But it is the path I chose. And I'll see it to its end. Guard dog or no. I've got the biggest bite in the house.

Rocketman Training #4

I've actually been training for several weeks. Months even. Culminated today with a full practice brick of all three events: swim, bike, run.

Trained with Luke, and Tish, and JG. One of many training events for them as they're getting ready for a half Ironman in October. And their distances lined up with mine very nicely: 1 mile swim, 2hr bike, and 40min run.

Started at 0700. Sunrise on Robinwood Lake. Good swim. Four continuous laps. A new record for me. Taking my time. Pacing myself. Didn't feel dead at the end. All good.

Biking went well. At least the first 24 miles. I averaged 18.9MPH. Slight improvement over my normal 18.7MPH. An hour and sixteen minutes. The last 45minutes, I covered another twelve and a half miles. Final total: 36.5 miles in two hours.

Running wasn't good. Four miles in 49 minutes. 12 minute miles, yuck! Still, all told, I burned at least 3600 calories, according to my tracker. I think it was that much on the run alone!

But here's what I did wrong:

• I lifted heavy yesterday. Back & Biceps. Felt it almost the entire run.
• I didn't hydrate yesterday. Normally, I drink 60+ oz of G2 the day before a big event
• I ran out of Gu. Took my last one an hour into the bike ride. Should have had one more at the end of the ride, to fuel for the run.
• No water during the run. Brutal heat. Pounding sunlight. I had to stop three times to scrounge water from faucets in the front of people's yard. Hot hot hot!

Next week: I won't lift after Thursday, I'll hydrate the day before the race, I'll have PLENTY of Gu, there will be water available on the run, and I'll wear a visor to block the sun.

A couple of light workouts this week, but nothing stressful. If I'm not ready for Rocketman now, it is too late for improvements. It's do it or die trying, now.

Sleepover

Cindy painted Meg's room today. A stunning shade of purple. Excellent job, too. Everyone is quite happy. Except for the fumes. Poor Meg couldn't sleep in her own room. So there was something of a sleepover, in the front room, on the new couch.

Starting at the top left corner, with the arrow pointing to the right, it's Liam. Moving clockwise, first arrow pointing down, it's Cindy. Below her, Meg. And on the left, Molly.

Room for me, if everyone squeezed close!

Maybe next time?

Extenuating Circumstances

I like to think of myself as flexible. Not a stickler for little, unimportant details.

But I do like my plans. My schedule of events. And I really dislike when they're completely disrupted by extenuating circumstances.

So my car decides to die last night. In slow, cruel stages. Didn't like cranking up in the morning, but did. Barely cranked after work. A trip to O'Reilly's to check the battery, and it cranked no more. "You only got four volts," the lad says. "Charge it over night," He proceeds to sell me a $20 trickle charger. Then jump starts my car. And off I go.

Only the trickle charger didn't charge anything. The car was COMPLETELY dead this morning. Had to summon the MiL (Gigi) to take the kids to school. Then wait for Cindy to get home because I could use her car to fetch a replacement battery.

"If it is dead, we'll replace it," says a new lad at O'Reilly's.

"It's dead now," I says.

"But we need to test it before we can replace it."

"You need a coroner? It's dead, dude."

"I know," he says. "But we have to test it. And to test it, we have to charge it."

"How long does that take?"

"About an hour."

"An hour?!?"

"Yeah, because it's dead."

"..."

An hour later.

"Okay," he says. "It's dead."

And I get the corpse swapped out. Except... not for free. It was one month (ONE MONTH!) outside the warranty. They did pro-rate it. And for $35, I received a replacement.

After installing it, the car started right up. No more extenuating circumstances...

Her Reality

I'm not fascinated by the political affiliation of this shirt wearer.

I'm not fascinated by the gender or economic strata of this shirt wearer.

I'm fascinated that all the things written on her shirt are true, in her reality. That she holds those words to be truths. That they are battle cries in her private war against the forces of Socialism and Fascist Obamacare. 

I'm fascinated that anyone, anywhere could believe Obama's departure will magically produce the following results:

• Sixteen trillion dollars will magically fly into the Federal treasury and we'll be able to pay off six decades of accrued debt.
• No future presidents will ever make use of Czars.
• 105,000,000 Americans will be re-employed .
• Too Big To Fail businesses will be allowed to fail.
• Homeowners who have not paid their mortgages will not have to give up their unpaid homes.
• Gasoline prices will decided they've been too high too long and return themselves to $1.25/gallon.
• $84,000,000,000 worth of mortgages held by Freddie & Fannie will be forgiven so that those two organizations can close down quickly and quietly.
• All the Muslims will decide their dreams of freedom and justice in America were just false, hollow promises, so they'll go on a one-way pilgrimage back to the Holy Land. 
• And all these things coming true will make this a better, freer, happier country, like it was before Obama self-elected himself.

Somewhere, the Founding Fathers weep. And if it were not so damn funny, I'd weep, too.

Rocketman Training #3

30 mile bike ride. First time I've ridden in the dark. Not the first time I've ridden in the rain. Rarely easy to  ride after a long day at work. But we do what we have to do in order to make our goals a reality. And mine includes an Olympic Distance event in less than two weeks. So I chase my dragon: rain or shine, night or day.

Rocketman Training #2

Two weeks from today, I'll be recovering. Torn between so many emotions: eager to be done, nervous with anticipation, confidence with my training thus far, fear of failing. Probably only get worse as the day moves closer. Poor ol' Jon, all aboard his emotional rollercoaster ride.

Surprised I feel so well after my swim yesterday. Slight protest from my right shoulder. But a coat of biofreeze worked the usual miracles. And I had a good lift in the gym this morning. Then tonight's run. Oh, the run...

New personal record: 5.1 miles. Never tried that distance alone. Wasn't pretty. Wasn't fast. And I pity anyone down wind of me. But I did it. And I did the last mile shirtless. Aside from swimming, I don't think I've been shirtless in public in my adult life. And here I am: middle-aged man, running through my neighborhood, sweating like a stank, furry boar.

Life is good for the Digital Redneck.

Rocketman Training #1

Another Sunday at Robinwood. Usual crowd. Usual adventure. Accomplished a new personal record. Six laps. Upwards of 2640 meters. 1.6 miles, maybe?

Followed it up with a ride, all by my lonesome. Dislike riding alone. But had to get in my miles. Only two more weeks of Rocketman training left. No more excuses. The event draws near.

No records on the bike today. But I put in almost 20 miles. 18.7MPH average. And it will have to do for now.

The Problem

I live in the fattest state in the union. Five years running. Maybe six by now. 34.4% of my fellow Mississippians are obese. And I'm not sure I understand the cause of the problem.

Honey Boo Boo Is America

TLC held an enormous mirror up to the face of America last night. And in our bright national reflection we beheld: Honey Boo Boo. 

The over-weight, over-talkative, would-be pagent star from McIntyre, GA, ranted and danced her way across the screen in tonight's premeire episodes. The motto of the night: "We're not rednecks," repeated like an anthem, with most of their dialog only discernable through gratuitous use of subtitles

"We're not rednecks," Mom says while cutting up then cooking roadkill recently scraped off the street.

"We're not rednecks," says the unwed-but-pregnant oldest sister, her BabyDaddy's identity a mystery for later episodes.

"We're not rednecks," another sister, this one clad in a rebel-flag bikinni top, drunkenly hollers before belly flopping into a mud pit strategically placed at the end of the Redneck Pride march. 

And TRUE rednecks would certainly never hop their daughter up on home brewed "Go-Go Juice" (a combination of Mountain Dew & Red Bull) before she goes on stage at a pagent. They know fifteen Pixie Sticks just don't do it for her. They tried that. No go, there. So the completely non-redneck adults give Honey Boo Boo a 20oz of "Go-Go Juice" then set her loose upon the world.

Honey Boo Boo is America writ small: Slow. Cranky. Unintelligible. Sitting around the house eating "Fat Cakes." Squeeling heinously in chorus with our pet pot bellied pig (that is actually male but we dress it up like its female!) And taking long draws of Go-Go Juice just to keep us conscious enough to make it through the delerious tedium of our sweltering summer days.

Thank you, TLC. That was a refreshing little wake-up call. Now pass the roadkill jerky!

Beginning & End

Beginning of another school year. The years ticking by too quickly. The kids growing and slowly becoming their own person.

Liam, freshly thirteen, entering 7th grade. All advanced classes. Straight A average. Hasn't touched an instrument he cannot play. Recently started chatting with a local girl on FB, and Skyping on a webcam. Only five more years and he'll fly the nest.

Meg, midway through ten and on her way to eighteen, in 5th grade. Art and dance and songs all co-mingle behind her eyes. The whole day a performance when I'm with her. The bright sun in my sky. A living firework.

Hopefully the school year goes well. Stays in the lanes. I'm going to stick closer this time. Put out any sign of trouble as soon as I see it. No repeats of last year's woes. Learned that lesson. 

End of the day, I go to tuck Liam into bed. I find him pretzeled around his covers. His legs knotted up behind him, all rubbery and completely relaxed. Careful not to wake him up, I unwind the kid from the blanket and cover him up. Couldn't help but take a picture. Nobody would believe it without photographic evidence! Sleep well, little dude. You'll need it.

We all will.

Karmic Bandit

If you're happy, I'm happy. Funny how simple that is.

Tried to make some friends happy today. Too different friends. Two different coasts. Atlanta. San Francisco. They'll be surprised. I hope happily surprised. Maybe for a few minutes. Maybe a few days. Maybe a lifetime.

Point is, I tried. Something of an attempt at being a karmic bandit. Score some points. Tip the balance in my favor. Or just earn a chuckle while they think, "Oh, McDougal, you silly bastard."

If you're happy, I'm happy. That's how simple it is.

Granny Pam's Dinner

"I'm officially a speed limit," Granny Pam said.
She wouldn't allow a party, but she allowed a dinner with the family.
Gathered at Half Shell Oyster House.
Darren's crew. My crew.Robert, and Pam.
Good to see everyone. Bad when work interrupted. Cut my meal short. But everyone had a good time. Nice way to end a long night.

Prepping For Rocketman

Adding a new event to my schedule: Rocketman. An Olympic distance triathlon. Mile swim. 25 mile bike. 6 mile run. August 26th. My longest event, to date. I've been prepping for Rocketman, already. My swim should be good. My bike should be good. Running, however, will suck. I'm up to 4+ miles on my training. But it isn't pretty. I still have a couple more weeks to get in shape. Have to focus on the run. Maintain the rest. And I should be good. Only one way to find out...

Model The New Suit

Bought a new one piece triathlon suit.Figured it would help speed up my transitions. Won't have to slap on a shirt. That's my theory, at least.

Liam agreed to model the new suit. He thinks it fits him really well. Very comfortable, he said. Doesn't know it is supposed to fit like a second skin.

My own little Bolt, zipping around the back yard and posing for the camera.

Liam Turns Thirteen

I blink and suddenly I'm the father of a teenager. Yesterday I was taking him home from Piedmont Hospital in Atlanta. Today, he's texting his peeps and thanking everyone on FB for the birthday wishes. Another blink and he'll be driving off to college. All too fast, it seems. All too fast.

Great day for everyone involved. Cindy took the kids (Bryce, Liam, and Meg) to play laser tag in D'Iberville. Afterwards, we meet for lunch at Mugshot's. The usual for the kids. The usual for the adults. Long wait, though. Unusually long. Kids had a good time though. Liam getting everything he wanted. Hard for him to argue when he's calling the shots.

After lunch, a long long (LONG!) viewing of Batman - The Dark Knight Rises. Interesting twists. Surprised us several times. Smidge too long. Odd development of Catwoman. Very unpleasant changes to Bane. But I'm old fashioned. My memories dating to 1993, when Bane broke Batman and started the Knightfall saga. Twenty years later, the big screen doesn't seem to do it much justice. But Liam & Bryce thought it was great. I enjoyed it for what it was. Glad it finally made it to the big screen. An excellent trilogy. Finally something worthy of the character of Batman.
Finally, we all gathered at the house, Cindy's family and mine. She and Meg lit the candles. We all sang. Liam made a wish. And blew out the candles. Cookie cake. What he wanted. Delicious, the small piece I enjoyed. Everyone enjoying the company and sweets.

Good way to end the night. And the first day of Liam's thirteenth year. Onward and upward, son. The world is yours.

Bye Bye Beetle

I've been avoiding the inevitable for the better part of a year. Maybe more. Trying to keep the mental wound closed. Not admit my defeat. My own shortcomings. How I failed at another of my many daydreams.

The Beetle was an expensive lesson to learn. Too much time. Too much effort. And too much money went into it. I did a fraction of what I wanted to do with it. Just not rewarding enough. I thought it would go better. Make a bigger impact. Have more fans. More friends. More help. More success. None of which emerged. Regardless of what I did. So I stopped doing. And the Beetle has sat in my driveway, unmoving, ever since.
Shipped it off to a new home, today. With Dale Ridenour. A good home for my old project. A better owner. Dale's far more industrious and talented with such things than I'll ever be. He's done solar heaters and panels and even has a solar trailer that could (in theory) charge the Beetle for free.
Hopefully Dale can get it working again. Then we'll figure out how the legal mumbo jumbo. No need to get tangled in red tape or paperwork right now. I want him to succeed. Where I failed.
So it is bye bye Beetle. Off you go, old friend. It was fun while it lasted. You fly back , now, little Beetle. Fly, fly, fly.

RIP Kramer: 2005 - 2012

I didn't really know Kramer. The cat. But I buried him, today. 

A hard life as a semi-stray in the furnace of a South Mississippi summer took him at a relatively early age. Glenda tried to help. Cindy tried. The vet tried. But there's only so much they could do for a cat on its last legs. In the end, nature ran its course.

The ceremony was low key and subdued. I changed into some comfortable clothes. Glenda picked an appropriate locating, on a shaded knoll that Kramer frequented. Cindy respectfully transported the body. And I dug the grave.

Brutal heat. Lots of sweat. Glenda thanking me quietly the whole time. My sweltering hot workout concluded. The ladies said a few kind words. Shared a story or three about Kramer. Then put flowers on the lid. And sprinkled some dirt on top. Once I was done, they marked the site with an iron sculpture of a butterfly. Added an old stone from Glenda's mother's house.

And there resides Kramer. The cat. Rest in peace, Kramer. You deserve it. You were a good cat.

How Digital Should Be

A first today: bought an eBook. So simple. And fast. Doubt I'll ever go back to buying dead tree books again!
Read a review of vN (for Von Nueman (a type of robot.)) Looked like something I'd dig. Fired up the Nexus 7. Hopped into Google Play. Found the book for $6. Clicked Buy. Google did the rest. BOOM! The book is on my tablet and I'm reading it.

Songs? Just as easy to buy. Movies? Ditto. Games? Yup! Apps? Hell yeah!

Now THIS is how digital should be done. And I'll be back for more.

Ron Asked

"Didn't you used to have a blog?" Ron asked. "Tales from the Bayou, or something like that?"

I've been talking about posting for weeks. But Jon's talk is cheap. And Jon's action has been lacking.

When I was on my busiest, most creative posting streak, it was due to soul-crushing insomnia. Many nights I would not get sleepy until well after midnight and be lucky to drift off around two in the morning. But triathlon training has mostly cured. By nine o'clock I'm usually winding down for the night. By ten o'clock I'm getting ready, possibly in bed, usually reading. And by eleven o'clock, I'm usually fast asleep. For the first time in over a decade, I'm actually getting a good night's rest! Unfortunately, my writing has suffered, but I can catch up. I still have notes!

So, Uncle Ron has set me straight. (Thanks, Ron!) I'm getting my priorities together. And I'm back to recording my adventures, before they're lost and forgotten.

Good Deed

I do try. I do! When the opportunity presents itself, I do a good deed. Friends. Family. Neighbors. If it is within my power, I'll do what I can.

Case in point: a knock upon my door at 9PM. Who can it be? My kindly old neighbor lady. Ms Dees. Only eight years short of 100. She had locked herself out of her house, checking on her garden. I tried her other doors. I tried her windows. No easy mode of entry. Walked her back to my house, sat her on the sofa, and after four phone calls I found a locksmith (Ricky) that could bump the lock. "Just talk loud to her, Ricky. She's sharp, if she hears you." By 10PM, Ms Dees was safely back in her front room. No worse for wear.

And tonight, approaching midnight, I find myself working on a technical solution. For a friend who called in need. By the time I'm done, I'll be approaching 16hrs of work today. No rest for the weary. No rainchecks. Just me and my quest for karma. I'm hoping I can buy it with a good deed.

A Boy & His Dog

A rare treat today. Shirtless and strapped, Liam plugged in his electric bass, fired up some tunes on YouTube and started jamming. Mozart's 25th Symphony, AWOL Nation, and Scheherazade. Stunningly awesome combination of classic music, modern rock, and technology. Well done, son. Well done!

Wasn't Pretty

All I can do sometimes is try. Maybe I do well. Maybe I do poorly. But I'm going to do it.

Ran today. Waited until almost EIGHT O'CLOCK AT NIGHT to avoid the heat. Still approaching 100 degrees as I hit the road.

Took a slightly different route. Paced myself. But the ungodly heat and the after-effects of a long day of work gassed me out. Drenched in sweat. Major muscles starting to cramp. And started to hurt the last quarter mile. So I throttled back. Caught my breath. And finished the run. Wasn't pretty. (I'm rarely pretty when I'm training!) But I did it. And some days, that's the best I can hope for.

Tracy's In Town

I miss Tracy. We'd have drinks after work and see who suffered the most slings and arrows the previous week. She turned me on to Jager Bombs. Always something of the big city mouse in the small country town, Tracy went back to Las Vegas last year. Or maybe it was two years ago? God, time flies. She still comes back on occasion, usually to Jazz Fest. Caught up with her, and her boyfriend (Rex), at Jazzeppi's tonight. 

Couple of drinks. Lot's of talk. Plenty of laughs. Good to see Tracy again. Though all too short a visit. Wish I could have stayed longer. Wish I had less stress under my eyelids. Wish I didn't have to work tomorrow. But it is what it is. And I'm thankful for the couple of hours I was able to spend with her. 

Maybe I'll meet her on a trip to LV. Or maybe I'll have to wait until next Jazz Fest. But we'll hang out again. At some bar. Somewhere. And we'll always find something to laugh about.

Liam's Big News

Sitting at the office, putting out the usual horde of fires, and Liam messages me:

I GOT ACCEPTED TO NJHS!!!!!!

 And there was MUCH rejoicing for us McDougals.

I never made NJHS. Cindy never made NJHS. As far as I know, he's the first lad in the family down here to do it. Very proud of him. He deserves it.

And there was a big cookie cake waiting for him when he arrived home today!

Paleo Pollo en Tomate

Long, non-stop day. Non-degraded biodegradable stitch dug out of my belly. Lunch on the run with Liam. And clearing the smoldering debris from multiple themobaric bombs that I inadvertently initiated at the office. Two steps forward. One step back. All resulting in a massive case of tired tired tired.

Didn't feel like being overly creative today. So I tried something simple and quick, but eventually delicious: Paleo Pollo en Tomate.

Rotisserie chicken torn into manageable pieces. Tomato sauce. Farm-grown, grass-fed cheese. Dash of oregano. And a line of Sriracha. Mixed in a skillet. Heated until the cheese melted. Thrown into a bowl. Scarfed down rapidly.

Prep time? 1 minute. Cook time? 5 minutes. Enjoyment level? Very high! Happy tummy time.

And to all a good night.

BVE Strings Concert - 2012

Both of my lovelies played today. Fantastic way to start off the morning. Post workout, mind you. Chest & triceps then a concert.

Meg with her perfect posture. Singing along to Rolling In The Deep. Old McDonald pacing faster and faster. Plucking. And her favorite part: bowing to the audience.

Liam and his tall, looming bass. Notes bouncing off the gym walls like slow bluesy balloons. Sail. Scheherazade. Adele. And the thrum of Antagonist.

Cindy took the day off. Glenda in tow. Beautiful day. Beautiful tunes. I'm twice blessed. More so than I could have ever imagined.

They concluded with something of a duet. Meg's band (4th & 5th grade) backed up by Liam's chamber orchestra (mostly 7th & 8th.) I grabbed a video of it.  See how well the computer dork can make use of his technology.

Could Have Been Worse

See how my thumb sinks into the tire? That's shouldn't happen.

Prepare for the irony.

On Friday, I told Keith & Greg, "I haven't had any tire issues in two years." Bad karma. And it caught up with me less than five miles into a twenty mile bike ride. Pedaling suddenly sucked. Balance sucked worse. Steering sucked the most. Was hoping for a slow leak. Hit it with CO2. Then the whole thing went flat again within fifteen seconds. Had a spare tube. But no spare air. Fortunately Jenn was able to go back for her truck. And I limped home.

Could have been worse. However, I did manage a new personal record in the lake. Four laps x 440 meters. Nearly a mile. Longest distance I've ever swam in open water.

So I got that going for me...

Homework

My old mentor, the globe trotting technophilospher, Chris Miller, asked me to eyeball a recent pet project of his. The result? Two hours. Two big beers. And a week of notes to wade through.

No time for reading during the day. Work too brackish. Tackled it after-hours. My favorite haunt: Rooney's Irish Pub. No smokers tonight. Nearly vacant. Tall mug of ice-cold Woodchuck. iPad for  easy references. Ballpoint pen. Half-inch-thick stack of Miller's stream of consciousness. And a blues playlist on the jukebox.


Surprising stuff. Expecting to read one thing. Finding anything but. If it hadn't come from Miller, I'd suspect a prank. Just THAT crazy.

Not sure either of us know how far down the rabbit hole this will lead. But definitely potential for much adventure. I'll either spend too little time, or too much on it. Only one way to find out.

Nipped

Minor out-patient thing. Get some lumps nipped. Nothing vile or dangerous. Mainly a victim of my limited vanity. Mom and April (my massage therapist) noticed one on my back. More pronounced after my weight loss. Couldn't bear the thought of somebody eyeballing it while I'm topless. At a race. Or training. Them wondering: What's that mutation he's sporting? So out it comes.

Bit of a wait. But interesting discovery. My physiological stats are quite excellent. Blood pressure: 125 over 72. Resting heart rate: 56. Nurse commented: You have the stats of an athlete. Told her: Wish I could perform like one.

Eventually, made it back to the operating room.Cold and comfortable. Nurse takes a razor to my belly. And back. Shaving off two thirds of my body hair in order to operate on a patch of skin the size of a quarter. Doc "numbs" my abdomen first. Trying not to breath. Trying not to pull away as the needle bites. One. Two. Three times. Then I hear the tone of the cautery. Knowing he's slicing me open. Not feeling, but still knowing. Something warm slides trickles. A daub of cotton from the nurse. And he says, "It's out." Thankfully I don't feel the stitches. 

Then over to the mutation on my freshly-shaved back. (Didn't even know I had hair there!) One. Two. Three "Big Sticks" from the needle. The third biting deep. Heat spreading briefly before I'm numbed again. Familiar tone. He's cutting. I imagine a whiff of charred flesh wafts past me. The tone changes, even higher pitched. For the briefest microsecond, I light up with pain. Like a towel snapping my ass in the locker room. Gone before my voice can find a scream. Not sure what happened there, but it (thankfully) only happened once. Then the stitching. Many more, this time. "I put some extra in there," he says. So I can train sooner. No stitches on the outside. Medical Super Glue. It will "flake off" in a week, Nurse says. Lower the table. Unfasten the grounding strap. And I'm done.

No sedation means no delay. I change into my street clothes. Sign a document that proves I survived. And off to work I go. 

Downtime

Not much personal downtime here. Seriously. Either working, training, reading, writing, brainstorming my next adventure, or occasionally catching up on DVR. Some kind of pathological aversion to boredom.

Enjoyed a touch of downtime tonight. With Meg. Watching The History Channel. Feature on the Shroud Of Turin. Digitalized rendering of a face.More questions than answers. Then Meg asks, "Why is it called Good Friday when Jesus died? That wasn't good..." I have no reply for her. But we enjoy the show. And the time together. With her stretched out. Weight on my back. Head on my shoulder.

I could get used to that. At least enjoy it while it lasts.

Photoshoot

I'm teaching a class later this month. Based on my twelve suggested changes for 2012. A ninety minute lecture of sorts. Light and entertaining. Informative. Hope to help some people. More on that later. For now, I need a picture. Of me. That other people will see.

I don't share this often, but I have a deep seated fear of being photographed. Goes back to my awkward pre-puberty years. Acne. An emaciated build. 80s hair. Glasses thick enough to see through time. Didn't make for pretty pictures. So I've never felt photogenic. And I avoid pictures. 

Anyway. Went to the beach. Liam. Bike. Camera. Goggles. Snap snap. Click click. Pictures along the shore. Gulls in the background. Serious look. Happy look. Encouraging look. Trying Not To Be Scared look. Hopefully the girls at work can Photoshop Ol Jon into a semblance of presentability. 

If not, my class may have fewer students than I'd like.

Monday's Karma

Eleven hours behind a keyboard. Slayed my digital villain, though. Tired. On the edge of angry. Driving to my usual lonely haunt. And the sky explodes. Peals of lightning lick the ground. Instant deluge. Everyone center-laning. Though there is no center lane. Crawl through the puddles into downtown Gulfport. Daylight dimmed to a purple bruise. Still pouring. Wind turning it nearly sideways. Perfect parking. Ten feet away from the door. Jump out my car. Bolt for it. Half soaked in three leaping strides. Drying my glasses, I ask for a pint. The barmaid says, "Storm blew a fuse. All our kegs are down. All of them." I blindly stare at her fuzzy outline. No need to finish drying. "Back to the rain for me," I say. "I sorry," she says.

And this is Monday's karma: Sober and angry on a defeated ride home through the laughing remains of a dying monsoon.

Paleo Food - Mustard Chicken & Sweet Potato Fries

My second stab at Paleo. Still learning as I go. Today's menu included mustard chicken. I mixed up stone ground mustard, spicey brown, and a few other ingredients. Then let the chicken marinade for several hours. Turned out nice, but I should have tenderized the breasts a little. Made them flatter so they had a more consistent surface. Some were thicker than others, and didn't cook evenly. And I should have grilled them differently, more traditionally. Had them in a pan and they sort of simmered in their own juice. But the chicken came out nicely and I added some left over sauce to the top of the finished product.

Also made some sweet potato fries. Interesting lessons there. One potato produces a ton of fries. Not knowing this, I cut up two of them. Easily enough fries for six people. And I'll have to experiment more with the baking process. After 25 minutes at 450 degrees they were cooked, but not crispy. I want crispy!

My favorite part was brewing up a batch of homemade ketchup! Far easier than I thought. Fairly cheap. And super double extra delicious. Far better than any store bought supplies. Without the carbs. Without the High Fructose Corn Syrup. And one batch will last weeks at our rate of consumption.

Another fun and healthy experiment. Plus Cindy's digging the Paleo. Or at least she's doing a good job of fooling me. But at least I'm cooking?

In Therapy

Like religion, you have to have faith in therapy before it will work. 

And like hypnotism, if you don't want it to work on you, it won't.

We're each the makers and keepers of our own happiness.

Paleo Food - Meatballs & Twice Baked Sweet Potatoes

I'm always tweaking my life. Habits. Hobbies. What I'm reading. What I'm watching. Activities. Obsessions. Supplements. Diet. My latest personal experiment? Paleo. I've been doing some (SOME!) of the basics for a while. Avoiding carbs. Avoiding sugars. Paleo kicks it up a few more notches. Plenty of literature out there. Plenty of testimonials Websites galore. And recipes. So I decided to try a couple of them.

My first foray included: Lion's Head Meatballs and Bacon Basil Twice Baked Sweet Potatoes. Both were absolutely delicious. Easily the best tasting dishes I've fixed since we moved back to MS. Possibly the best dishes I've EVER made. Cindy confirmed as much. And I think she liked them even more than I did.

I should have compressed the meatballs a little more. They were very light and therefore very fragile. Wonderful flavor and a very subtle kick to them.

I should have cooked the sweat potatoes longer. Didn't get them out of the skins correctly, so the aesthetic was off. And I didn't get the consistency right on the pesto. But it was still delicious.

Cindy and I thoroughly enjoyed this first attempt. There will be others. Many others.

Traditions Training - Update #3

I don't like flying solo. But it was perfect weather. Perfect temperature. And Ol Jon needs to train, train, train. So I did what needed to be done: hit the course by myself.

Good swim. More strength. Better breathing. Much more accurate course control. Only stopped once, about midway. And finished strong. Real happy with my continued progress in the lake. Certainly shaping up for a nice swim on Saturday.

Hit the bike route. Thought I did well the first half. Good aero. Good pacing. Managed the hills correctly. Averaged over 19MPH. But gassed out on the long uphill as I returned. Should have stood up sooner. Powered through to the top. Mis-timed it. Mis-geared it. Slowed down far too much. And the second half of my ride dragged my average down to 17.75MPH. Better than my time last year, but not the 18MPH I wanted.

Didn't run. Saving my shins for Saturday. If I did 2 miles on Sunday without any woe, 3 miles on Saturday is doable.

Doubt I do any additional training between now and Saturday. Mostly going to recover, stretch, and hydrate. Should be a good first race. And a good season to follow.

Sense Of Urgency?

I loathe depending on other people. Suppose it is a trust issue. Mostly related to my elevated sense of urgency on my projects. Prime example from today: I've been waiting on my cohorts in corporate to make two small firewall changes. It has taken them six weeks. How long did it take to wrap up the configuration changes I needed to make on my side? 15 minutes. Six weeks of pressuring them so I could do 15 minutes of work? Yeah, I got trust issues.

Traditions Training - Update #2

Second round of training. Much better than the first. Of course I didn't have four pints of beer clinging to my lungs, unlike last week. And I made sure to hydrate ahead of time, while taking on less water during the event.

So the swim went well. More comfortable. Paced myself. Focused on my breathing. Paid more attention to my location. Keeping closer to the course. And finished stronger than last week. Should have put in an additional lap. Had the energy. But didn't want to over do it. And I ended the swim on a positive note.

The ride was great. I was the only one who knew the actual course, so I lead most of the way. Had plenty of strength. No trouble keeping my pace. Timed my fuel well. Felt strong tackling the long hill as well as the final two hills as we returned to the course. And I think I finished it right at 50 minutes. (Which would be  record for me!) I had to stop twice to give directions, so I didn't time it perfectly. Much like the swim, I was very happy and glad to end on a positive note.

Did two a two mile run afterwards. Not my best run. Not my worst, either. Twice the distance of last week. And I only slowed briefly. Once I had my rhythm and my breathing set, I was able to find a reasonable gear and focus on positive self-reinforcement. Took it 100 meters at a time and finished well enough, by my standards. Had one more mile in me, for sure.

All in all, very happy with my overall performance. Had plenty of energy. High spirits. Good mood. I'll do it again once (maybe twice?) this week and dial in my game a little better for Saturday. I'll certainly keep off the beer until AFTER the race!