Conor Shapiro's P(ea)ce of Mind

Greatest Column Ever

2012-01-25T15:43:00.000-05:00

What's that? You're not following me on Twitter yet?? How do you expect me to feed my children and pay my child support? You think I can do that on cash alone? No, I need moral support, I need the constant reassurance that there are others out there who NEED to know my thoughts at all times of the day. This is important. Essential really. Remember, my kids are hungry.

And with that I release the best column I perhaps have ever read...

http://www.theeagleonline.com/opinion/story/the-importance-of-respectful-discourse/

Australian Open

2012-01-24T12:37:00.000-05:00

Each night I've been spending some time lazing around the TV watching tennis. (KB - you still reading???) That is, until my roommate puts on Kardashian's and giggles incessantly and I retire to my room defeated by stupidity (Courtney's mostly). I played tennis in high school and junior college - actually winning the National JC consolation bracket in my division in 2005 - which is another way of saying I'm fucking amazing - except petrified of playing that ferocious looking 8 year-old across the net. Damn these young kids are good these days.

Anyway, I've always cheered on Roger Federer, lauding his Swiss inexpressiveness. I mean that dude could be down two sets or smashing match point and there's no discernable difference. Quite impressive really. In endurance training that's important too. As much as I may be suffering, it's important never to let an ounce of weakness seep out expressively. The competition will notice and become emboldened by the gesture. Not only that, but form begins to falter and soon you permit yourself to succumb to fatigue (mental and/or physical). Put a Wellington-ish (all you triathletes out there know who I'm talking about) smile on, and embrace the pain. Or at least muster through it without looking like you were suffering from prolonged tazing.

Watching Roger has assisted my emotional maturation on the basketball/tennis court and in endurance sports, albeit it's been a long transition. As KB and others can attest, part of my 'game' so to speak is intimidation. I want people who are better than me to think they're not. As soon as I get them to doubt their abilities, I've manipulated them and won. It's worked countless times on basketball and tennis courts. Plenty of games/matches I shouldn't have won (but did), by some variation of pounding my chest, trash talk, grunt, flex the guns, shout, then get back to work. People fear it. Shit, rightfully so - it can look like LeBron James after a breakaway (I love comparing myself to my peers). It may not be tactful or pretty but don't doubt its efficacy.

Anyway, what I'm saying is my expressive nature is often to compensate for lack of 'actual talent'. The only way to beat Usain Bolt is to have a head start. My 'head start' is the mental game. During triathlon season I wore ridiculously bright shoes and even raced my first race on a fixie with a polka dot seat. When I zoomed by people smiling, I disheartened others in my age group, even if I was quietly agonizing. The mere facade of 'hey you struggling?? this is fucking easy' can accentuate their visible anguish and lead them to giving up prematurely.

Recently (though I've always admired Federer's demeanor) I've finally tried to incorporate more of it. Instead of talking trash on the court, I refuse to smash my racket or yell in frustration. These are seemingly polar opposites. Even the players who don't taunt or puff their chest will often exclaim in frustration throughout the match when doing poorly. But when your opponent does this, you can pounce and scoff at their inability to compose themselves.

Same in triathlon. In my second to last race last season (Luray) I was killing it. Having an absolute incredible day. I was on pace for something like a 40-41 minute 10-k before bonking with 1.5 miles left in the run. One reason that lead to my demise was watchin the ease by which a fellow 25-29 calf passed me at the end. He didn't sneer, but it was more like assured triumph. All he had to do was jet pass me temporarily and watch my spirit deflate. Doing so, he accomplished two things - weaken my psyche, and empower his own. I finished somewhere in the late 45:'s, mouth agape, head bowed in agony.

Back to Federer. He has played with unrivaled consistency this past decade. No other player can tout the accomplishments he has week after week. Nonetheless, the ebullience of younger stars (notably Djokovic and Nadal) irritate him. At times, although Federer is capable of beating both players, he begins to doubt himself. Nadal (like me to some extent) intimidates players through his stares and fist pumps. His energy can be overwhelming. While Fed's armor looks impenetrable, he is vulnerable still. Nadal has an uncanny ability to sense it and exploit it.

Tomorrow night these men will meet in a THANK YOU GOD semifinal. I'm more anxious than Newt Gingrich in Florida. Which side (and method) will win? Can Fed maintain his stoic veneer? Will Nadal's implacability and ruthless expressions chisel away yet again against the aging giant? What do you think? What type of attitude do you bring to your venue of choice???

Last Week's Workouts

2012-01-22T23:09:00.001-05:00

Pretty tough week save for today. I will likely go easier this week to recover. Need to put some miles in on the bike too this coming week. Finally got a pair of aero bars so it's time to adjust to the new position. Glad the Patriots pulled it off, one more game left...

Monday: 12 mile run (slow).

Tuesday: Back/Legs lift. Bike 1 hour time trial. 10 min. w/u. 10 min. c/d.

Wednesday: Swim 300y w/u. 10x200y. 100y kick. 3x200y. 100y kick. 2x200y. 100 kick. 400 c/d.

Thursday: Arms lift. 1.25 mile run w/u. Yasso 800's. See previous post. 1 mile c/d.

Friday: Swim 300y w/u. 3x - 1x25y. 1x50y. 1x75y. 1x100y. 1x125y. 1x150y. Then descend. w/ 100 kick in between each. Last set 100 ladder. 100 kick. 300 c/d.

Saturday: Legs/ Shoulders Chest lift. 10 mile run.

Sunday: Swim. Was too crowded at Wilson pool. Probably did 3k total. Pretty easy.

One More...

2012-01-20T00:03:00.006-05:00

Just for kicks. This was today's. Yasso 800's (10). Probably last speed workout for 9-10 days for the run. Need to rest a bit...dial back the intensity.

As Promised..

2012-01-18T22:56:00.001-05:00

here is the Garmin stats from speed work last week...

might do another speed workout tomorrow...we'll see.

Last Week's Workouts

2012-01-17T10:43:00.001-05:00

It's about time I get back to tracking my workouts online - lest you think I'm lazing around, the only exercise I'm getting via my fingers from Tweeting. That counts though, right???

It's been a couple weeks (or more) since I've had a day off, and lately I've ratcheted up the intensity. Hopefully I've fully absorbed prior gains and now prepared to make new ones. Training inteligently is extremely difficult (especially with only half a brain) and avoiding injury can be a daunting task when you exert yourself to the limit. I'm likely going to go three weeks hard (with intensity) one week off (of intensity that is) for the next few months and see how that goes. Presently I'm not suffering from any injuries (unless you count the forehead contusion from watching too many GOP debates). So this week should be a toughy, then I'll relax a little the following week and then restart the cycle. Getting stoked for the 2012 triathlon season.

Monday: Mid-level Swim Workout. 3.8km total. 300m w/u. 1x1500m. 1x800m. 1x400m. 1x200m. 1x100m. 2x100 kick. 300m c/d.

Tuesday: Arms lift. Speed workout. Shout out to GRC for inspiration (don't think I hit their splits though!!). I'll see if I can remember to post the Garmin link tonight if you want to see the stats (granted it's not calibrated correctly) - says I'm going faster than I actually am, although HR and cadence are correct. Basically 10 min. w/u. 2x2km. 4x1km. With 3-4 minutes rest between each. Reaaaaallllllyyyyyyy Challlengggging. Definitely recommend this one. 10 min c/d.

Wednesday: Back/Legs lift. 30 min ride (hills). Speed Swim Workout 2700 yards. 300 yard w/u. 10x100y. 100y kick. 5x100y. 100y kick. 3x100y. 100y kick. 300y c/d.

Thursday: Chest/Shoulders Lift. Bike Speed Workout. 10 min. w/u. 1 min. fast 2 min easy for 30 minutes. 30 sec fast 1 min easy for 30 minutes. 10 min. c/d. Abs.

Friday: 33 min. Stair climber. 1 hour uphill run (slow).

Saturday: Arms/legs lift. 10 min. w/u. 4.2 mile run @ race pace. 1 mile race pace. 1 mile race pace. Felt extremely tired had to break it up instead of going the full 10-k. Bummed.

Sunday: 90 minute spin (mostly easy..just a shakeout).

140 characters or less

2012-01-14T17:49:00.002-05:00

Can't. Stop. Thinking. In. Condensed. Ways. Must. Stop. Twittering.

So without further adieu, Peter Griffen's Totally Wicked Ways Why Women have it better than Men (my transitions still need work).

1) Can go shopping without accusations of being gay.

2) Never have to worry about peeing on shoes.

3) Once a month have excuse for being complete bitch.

4) Don't have to shave face.

5) Get to have totally awesome pillow fights.

6) Get to wash boobs on regular basis.

7) Get paid less than men for same job - therefore pay less in taxes.

8) Don't have to worry about bald spots, except on boyfriends.

9) Have genetic excuse for being awful drivers.

10) Fat 'parts' are endearing/sexy, not gross.

Twitter up and Running

2012-01-10T00:08:00.003-05:00

Not like I know how to use the damn thing. Check it out...

https://twitter.com/#!/ConorsPeace

2012 Goals

2012-01-09T17:08:00.001-05:00

Pretty much the entire blogosphere (sphere is apt per their round shape this time of year...) have inputted their 2012 resolutions by now. Which really makes me think: Mouth, meet gun. Or. Throat, meet 35 Tylenols. Most of the resolutions revolve around losing weight, staying dedicated and/or motivated. It gets so redundant to read all of these that after awhile it makes me think: Mouth, meet gun. Or. Throat, meet...wait I said that already, didn't I??....damn redundancy is affecting everyone.

Anyway, in an attempt to distinguish myself from the common man, I forge ahead with a new concept. Something so unique, so revelatory, that it may just reshape the entire landscape and trajectory of the way we reflect on New Years altogether. I'm gonna call them New Year's Shit I May or May Not Do Depending on My Evolving Moods and if Mayan Calendar Proves Accurate. For quick reference (NYSIMMNDDMEMMCPA).

NYSIMMNDDMEMMCPA List 2012

1) Eat more vegan foods. While ascribing to a liberal elite lifestyle, it's important to incorporate the daily smug into your diet. Smug is a euphemism for kale in this context. I thought vegetarian was good enough, then I realized I had another step to make. Okay, how about vegan? Nope, I was then told I gotta go organic. Okay, how about organic vegan? Nope, this was scoffed at as well (amateur/poser I was called) gotta go RAW, organic vegan. Okay, now lay off me, I'll go RAW, organic vegan. Pshhhh, cried the chorus, you have to GROW your own RAW, organic, vegan foods.

I simplify this resolution to say: every once in awhile I may eat a vegetable. Most likely a french fry.

2) Become so utterly dominant in triathlon that they have no choice but to place me on the U.S. Olympic team competing in London. All my training is showing that I have a decent chance to hit 2:10 in an Olympic triathlon this year. This puts me approximately 20 minutes behind the guys who have made the team already, so there's only one thing left to do. No not take out their legs. Yesh. I'm not Tanya Harding over here. I'm gonna bribe the coaches. And if that doesn't work, then break some legs.

I simplify this resolution to say: What's most likely to happen is I get a tattoo on my back saying: "If you can see this...you're losing." Intimidate and obliterate baby. Money well spent. In fact, maybe I'll spell you're - your - just for kicks.

3) Traverse the epic wall of China, cruise the sand beaches of Mexico, soak in the Spuds in Portland, OR. Following the footsteps of my blog contemporaries, I vow to travel more this year. Indeed I am going to China before the U.S. invades it and/or Iran and China have an orgy party with North Korea. Somehow I have a feeling the DoD will be placing some restrictions on travel there soon enough, so gotta get it while the getting is good. Trip is scheduled for late July/first couple weeks of August. I may take a Spring Break trip if I can find someone who wants to go with me. Getting someone to spend a week with me in beautiful, sunny, lovely Mexico/Central America is harder than it seems. Wonder why this is....must be Mexico, not close proximity with yours truly for a full week.

I simplify this resolution to say: Even though you live in one of the most dynamic, interesting cities in the world...make sure to get the fuck out as often as possible.

4) Smile more. I like people who smile. By people I mean attractive females, but nevertheless other people who smile can be endearing as well. Actually, no they can't. Okay, okay, yes they can - dammit now I have that song from Annie in my head. And. not. from. head. to. toe. that. mahahahaterrrssss.

I simplify this resolution to say: Use the :) emoticon more often. Even in awkward moments, like for example: Friend: "Dude, what's this red rash thing I have, is this like an STD or something???!!! Help!"
Me: :)

5) Continue to claim the title as most under-appreciated, talented, versatile, and engaging writer alive. This award has been self-proclaimed for a few years now. It's about time others start recognizing this monopoly as something of a dynasty. I deserve the respect the Celtics used to get in the 80's. When people counter and tell me that I'd probably be getting paid by now if I had tangible skill and not just irreverent meandering I simply remind them that I have a hearing problem. It's true.

I simplify this resolution to say: I'll likely keep blogging because dammit why won't you people love me!?!?!?!?!

I'm pretty sure there are other ramblings to be written, but this is a fairly decent start. I will keep reading a million books at a time (currently "Damned" by Chuck and "Collections" by Amy Hempel). Reading helps improve yo vocabulary so instead of saying something like, "That Conor dude is such a self-centered prick," you can say, "The bloviation from the narcissistic, gasconader Conor is preposterously lamentable."

What are your NYSIMMNDDMEMMCPA's???

New Years Pics Part 2

2012-01-04T16:18:00.003-05:00

The second night, we stayed with friends just East of Central Park. Anxious to get in some form of exercise after taking off the previous day, we got up early (well...for me anyway) and hit the dungeon they call a 'state-of-the-art fitness center'. Usually, there's nobody in these things (which is why they get by with the shoddiest equipment imaginable). This time there was a black man who had an incredible physique who was jogging on the treadmill shirtless. He was built like a collegiate running back. Not one to have someone show me up, after warming up a bit, I took my shirt off as well and the ego in the room ballooned to a nauseating level (even as I was responsible for half of it). I think we checked out ourselves and each other in the mirror more times than we glanced at our respective machines. Motivation!!!

I wanted to do 10 miles, but fatigued early and stopped at 9. Felt fairly lethargic, but better than nothing - plus we did walk about 7 miles the day before.

By the time we arrived off the Subway near Times Square to meet friends, it was near 2PM. We walked around a local farmer's market sampling ciders and cheeses. Dropped off our gear at their apartment (snapped a few pics of it) and headed back out. But not before I realized they were both fledgling triathletes. This was a hitch in our productivity as we paused to share battle stories of training and races and gear and all that jazz that accompanies the life of the tri-sport athlete.

Finally got out of the apartment, walked around the city into a famous candy shop, Rockefeller Square, saw Times Square (cops were swarming like bees), saw 30 Rock, Radio City Hall, etc. Then we ate some delicious mushroom, cheese, and sun-dried tomato pizza at Patsy's. Oh, almost forgot, the night before I secured the BEST kettle corn of my life. For those who don't know, fresh kettle corn is heavenly. In fact, if there is such a place as Heaven, it must be swarming with fresh bags of it. If not, then fuck it ya know, don't want in. Definitely my top 5 favorite foods. Pics of me devouring it coming.

After all the eating we went back to the apartment, to drink some champagne and prepare for the night's festivities. We relaxed and watched footage of the Ironman race this year (always guilt-inducing after you just ate pizza). Hard to believe there's people out there faster than me, but in fact, they do exist. Awesome stuff.

Then we welcomed another couple who was running the Central Park annual Midnight Dash. It's a 4-miler and people dress up - it's what the locals do to avoid the mayhem that is Times Square. We didn't bring our running gear, but we went for moral support and to watch the fireworks...anyway, tis' enough words for now...onto the pictures.

Think this is by Madison Square Garden. Place was Pop. In.

Dude selling New Years gear. I wanted his hat. He didn't want to part with it.

Buskers. How I love thee. A group of black dudes breakdancing down by the Subway. I almost hopped in at one point thinking they might need a white boy. They didn't.

Is this one of those awkward kind of photos I hate when people squat down and take of themselves? Or is this just a government monitor we posed for? You decide.

A tamer more Julliard-esque performance. They had a fiddler (like me!).

Dope apartment building above a Skechers and a bank. Pry where Jeter lives.

This is tri-life urban style. All their gear was compacted. I say they should've used it as its original intent - a stripper's pole. They say they do when they don't host guests. Ahh.

Shots of their apartment.

Not particularly spacious as they say. For 2,100 bucks a month. Helmets can be stored in the fridge to maximize the space.

The shower. Could fit maybe Papa Smurf. Girl says it's okay, she showers mostly at the gym so she can shave. Suppose I'd have to too in that situation :).

My brother's name is Dylan. He'll be 21 in about 2 weeks. This is a famous shop with his namesake. Pops says he's named after Bob Dylan, but if Mom woulda named him I think she's have got the idea here (she's got a sweet tooth like me).

I'd like a footlong on Hearty Italian.

Another fav-5 food - chocolate. Fondue fountain chocolate - even better. Like I would pass up this opportunity.

No man on this Earth has a big a sweet tooth as me. It's ridiculous. Good for the ladies I date though. Here I'm hoping some gets stuck in my hair for a midnight bonus snack.

Quite plausibly spent more time here than studying for my last final. Not sure what that means really...

Wasn't really that cold. 42 degrees or something like this.

In 3rd world countries when I see these rickshaws they usually say, "We take you pretty lady. Most bootiful lady. You like. Here we go." In this country they just ignore you.

The iconic Apple.

Snowflake floating above the traffic. Cutesy.

Oh how festive NY is. I don't know why the J's are upside down either. Maybe they're supposed to be r's???

Photo junkie.

Police made it almost impossible to get into Times Square shutting off many throughways. Bastads.

Better angle. That's what she said.

In front of the Rockefeller Square tree. I'm wearing my new walking around kicks (well technically now the laces are blue and lock laces - I hate tying my shoes).

Jews in front of a Christmas tree. How cultured. Our friends.

The ice skating rink at Rockefeller. We thought about doing a round but vetoed the idea b/c we were hungry.

I never noticed how crooked each letter was until I examined closely. Looks kinda like British people's teeth.

Somewhere therein is the ball (that drops). I couldn't see it. They said it wasn't lit up yet (it was about 6PM).

Yep. About the crowds...this is why the locals head to Central Park.

Excellent pizza I must say. Had a goat cheese and beat salad too.

Shots pre-race. There was a DJ and a stage to our right. Thousands of people here.

Not that I was paying attention. I was preoccupied chowing down on Kettle Corn.

I told this guy I was honing in on him as the countdown approached. He walked away.

Thaaaaatt's not water.

Dude kept trying to snatch my kettle corn. Two words for you. Stay. Off. Biatch.

Three seconds til.

Honestly probably the best time to get away with murder in New York. Just saying.

There was a naked dude who ran somewhere in there (thankfully I missed him). Not sure if it's blurry cuz my camera or if I was just too drunk to take a good pic. Here's the start of the race.

Happy New Year!!! Hello 2012

2012-01-02T21:49:00.001-05:00

I wrapped up 2011 with a spontaneous trip to celebrate New Years. Originally I was thinking of heading south (someplace waarrrrrmmmmmm) to somewhere like Virginia Beach, Myrtle Beach, the Outer Banks, etc. While I was quite close to siding with South Carolina - mainly because that's where an anarcho-liberal like me feels most at home - I was swayed by the compelling case my partner-in-crime made at the last minute. She suggested we suck it up (Thanksgiving and Christmas fat I assume) and trek to Canada's armpit, aka, New York City. It was unseasonably warm and she has a friend who resides in Manhattan.

Hmmmm.

Traveling north on I-95 on New Years Weekend sounded about as attractive as a round of the flu, but everyone should celebrate New Years Eve in NYC once in their life, and so off we went.

Instead of wowing you with my incredible grasp of the English language and letting your imagination run wild with vivid word imagery...I'm gonna post pictures. For one, I promised more of them about a month ago. And two, let's be honest, if you wanted to read you'd do what everyone else does and buy an audio tape.

So without further adieu, here are some photos.

Day One

Starting the trip off right with a stop at Robeks.

All that handsomeness consolidated into one face. If only we could spread the wealth around.

Passing B-Mo (Baltimore). Note the sap on my car window to the left. Fuck trees.

Passing Philly. Somehow we missed the off-ramp to avoid Philly, but at least we got to see what it's like to live in the city of Brotherly Love...hellish.

On the PATH to NYC. We stayed the night in Newark, NJ (actual zip code of hell). But not before jettisoning off to explore Brooklyn and a bit of Manhattan en route.

Expressions I elicit frequently.

Our stop.

Really makes a guy feel safe.

Right off the Subway. It's right about Twilight hour. NYC was zooming with people.

Lots and lots of tourists. Ugh. Hate those people.

One of the new WTC buildings that is going up.

Another tower. Cleaner shot.

I'm no engineer, but how the fuck do they do this shit. A crane about 30 stories up on a platform. Pretty amazing (kinda like picture number 2).

You can tent. You can vent. You can have all your time spent. But for crissakes don't skateboard. Where Occupy Wall Street originated.

Kinda hard to read cuz it's dark but some ground rules for the plaza. We asked a cop where the occupiers were and he said they kicked 'em out

What Zucotti Park looks like now. No tents = :(. Here I am showing my support.

Open to the Public the sign reads. Um. About that....

Some remaining occupiers. A bunch of the die-hards moved to Wall Street they told us. They were there mainly for nostalgia. The good ol' days, when wearing colors like that were in season...

The Five-oh. And there was probably 50 around doing mostly nothing. Taxpayer money inaction.

Get it???

El Brooklyn Bridge.

Looking toward Brooklyn.

Looking back at Manhattan.

Who knows. Y'all cities look alike after awhile anyway.

Yes, welcome to Brooklyn, how sweet it is. Just make sure you're packing.

On our way to see the new stadium that Jay-Z is building for the Nets (soon to be something different) we stumbled upon a famous cheesecake place. I'm not one to fuss over cheesecake, but she was. So we stopped and I ended up getting WAAAYY more crap than she did.

Practically Coney Island. This was my main purpose for coming down to South Brooklyn. This was featured on one of my fav TV shows Man vs. Food. Not exactly vegan/vegetarian (what I'd prefer to eat) but we can't be saints all of the time now can we???

The Subway map. Makes DC look simple. Stay tuned for Day 2 tomorrow.

Excuses that won't fly

2011-12-27T12:11:00.000-05:00

If you're a mechanic:

Telling your boss you're late because your car broke down.

If you're a stripper:

Explaining to the owner you're allergic to metal.

If you're a librarian:

Apologizing for opening the library late because you read the hours incorrectly.

If you're a retail employee:

Telling customers to hang on cuz 'you're busy'

If you're a government employee:

Same as above.

If you're a priest:

Apologizing to parishoners for cancelled sermon because God was pissed this week cuz Tebow lost.

If you're a teacher:

Telling the principle you slept with the 7th grader for her 'personal development'.

If you're in IT:

Telling your supervisor that the Internet was down and didn't get their email.

If you're a banker:

Explaining to parking enforcement that you didn't have any change.

If you're an attorney:

Telling your client you don't think it's illegal but you're not totally sure - while having him sign a waiver.

If you're a TSA employee:

Explaining to toddler that she must remove her bra per safety protocol.

Lesson Learned: Virginia Speeding Ticket

2011-12-23T11:55:00.002-05:00

It may come as much of a surprise to claim that I can still learn something in this world. Perfection and I have been neighbors for quite awhile now (he still takes his trash can out to the curb before mine...sigh), but yesterday I found that the unlikely is still possible.

Sometime in September I was cruising along the streets in Virginia when I was notified by someone claiming to be a 'cop' that I was aggressively going 16 miles over the speed limit. I told him this is highly improbable as my average is closer to 20 over. He didn't find this amusing. Neither did I. It felt like a disappointment. When you get a ticket you at least wanna have some street cred. Like, "Dude, I was sooooo late to work that I was driving on the sidewalk and evading a helicopter chase until they shot out my tires and fired rubber bullets at my chest." Or, it's kinda like getting caught shoplifting a Reese's. Get caught stealing a CAR! That'll a memory make.

Anyway, the 'cop' handed me a ticket for my infraction and the court date was set for Dec. 22. That's awfully close to Christmas, I thought. People are gentler around Christmas. Judges are more forgiving. Cops go home to visit their families. Ya know....I'm gonna fight this thing.

These were my thoughts in a nutshell (you're probably not surprised they originated from a nut).

So yesterday I dressed in my finest suit and headed to the courtroom. Sure, I could've paid the ticket off and saved me the time and trouble. But life is about the adventure. Nothing ventured nothing gained. And everyone should go to court and fight a traffic ticket once before they die. Even if they haven't been cited. Now that would really be thinking outside the box (although you'd then be cuffed inside one later on...)

Back to yesterday morning, in my finest suit I am - and sitting patiently in the courtroom. I realize that the 'glamour' of something like court is actually a tad exaggerated. Most people wore t-shirts that said things like 'Fear This' (appearing before the court, mind you). One woman had a tight shirt that read, 'Sexy and I know it' with bright red lettering. She weighed approximately 200 pounds. Which made me think, shouldn't the manufacturer not make shirts with lettering in THAT size? I mean, there's a reason you don't see 'Boston Marathon finisher' in a XXL.

While I'm sitting in the pews, I'm trying to determine just what makes this judge tick. She's the only chance I have here. She resembled Judge Judy but less interested. At one point she was reading a note a bailiff had handed her and actually forgot about the trial in front of her for about 3 minutes. She looked up suddenly and said to the Mexican dude, "Wait a minute, are you saying you didn't speed?" To which he replied, "Your honor, speed was not a factor in the parking lot of my DUI." "Ahhh haaaa" she said, cloaking her embarrassment with elongated syllables.

I snickered to the guy next to me who also found this amusing. Partially because it had to be translated first which made it that much funnier. Maybe she caught this moment, for when I (after 2 hours) approached the bench...it was a slaughterhouse.

She asked how I plead: Not guilty. She then asked me to raise my right arm and promise not to lie to her. I told her that this was a strange method for veracity, and that lying was a gift I had mastered and that'd be like asking Michael Jordan not to 'dunk a basketball'. Humor wasn't Judge Judy's strong suit. She turned to the presiding officer (who I nicknamed: little prick) and asked him to explain what occurred. I should note here that each previous case the officer would say about 3 words and then let it be.

Not with me.

I kid you not, the guy had cross-referenced data citing the calibration of the laser beam. He said the precise time and the color of the vehicle. He mentioned exactly to the foot how much faster I was going than the speed limit (in feet per second!!). He said what lane I was driving in and that he'd seen me hit my brakes afterward as well. He also said the navigational longitudes of where the infraction occurred. Ya. I'm serious.

His monologue lasted at least 2 minutes and was so compelling that I almost wanted to applaud the guy. Shit, wrong profession you chose dude, I was thinking. Coulda been an attorney. Anyway, I had a grin on my face at this point because the position I was in was kind of like that Shaggy song "It wasn't me". The one where he says:

But she caught me on the counter (It wasn't me)
Saw me bangin' on the sofa (It wasn't me)
I even had her in the shower (It wasn't me)
She even caught me on camera (It wasn't me)

She saw the marks on my shoulder (It wasn't me)
Heard the words that I told her (It wasn't me)
Heard the scream geting louder (It wasn't me)
She stayed until it was over

Yep. That's about where I was at. I concocted a story about how the laser beam must've ricocheted off the car to my right and thereby falsely implicated me. To which she said, "You drunk?" I replied, "Was I?" She countered, "No, are you?" "Ahhhhh haaaaaaa" I sighed.

Point here is that I got my ass kicked worse than the black dude in horror films. It was a beat down. So, when you're given the option of paying the ticket via mail or spending a couple hours in a courtroom - stick with the mail in.

Yo........

2011-12-19T22:54:00.003-05:00

I haven't posted my workouts in a couple weeks because I've scaled back the intensity significantly. My hope is to maintain fitness while allowing my body to recuperate from the preceding months of intense training. I've also been fighting off a couple of nagging injuries that I'm chary to inflame. Nonetheless, I do not imply I have taken it easy. I've continued to train about 14-15 (including weight training) hours per week, I've also been hiding periodically in shame from the meaney-pant anonymous commenters who ridiculed my incredibly hilarious post last time :(. Yesh, people, get a grip.

Things are happening as they happen to do. I wrapped up the semester with my final paper submitted a couple of hours ago. I just might post it on here as long as those meany-heads don't frighten me with their wrath. It's good. You'll like it. And if you don't, you can go vote for Mitt Romney. Or Obama, same difference.

Speaking of weird quotes like 'same difference' I will be joining the world of Twitter to educate the general populace this week. Twitter seems like an appropriate forum to spout off my sagacious words as they come to mind. So I will post details on this shiat shortly.

On another note, my meany pant folks chose my sister over me this year for visiting Colorado. #fail. (I'm practicing). Therefore this will be the first year of Christmas vacation without my family. I'm getting older!!! While I'm not particularly jubilant over the proceedings, I will be readily available for other things such as...working!! I think I'm the only one in the office all of next week. Part-ay at my desk! May bring in booze as long as the Pentagon police don't confiscate it (that was a joke guys, please don't frisk me again...please).

I may try to schedule a mini-ski retreat as this would also be the first winter in a reaaalllly long time without any skiing. Although we have not seen any snow thus far. Let's hope for snow in Pennsylvania at least!

I may be taking a Spring Break trip...either to compete in the South Beach Triathlon in Miami, or to Mexico, or possibly somewhere else. Nothing definitive at the moment. Later in the summer Pops, Dylan and I are scheduled to visit China! I am soooo excited. This will totally make up for the winter #myparentshateme.

In other odd tidbits, I am researching sky-diving adventures. I've always wanted to go and have never been. I also am researching tattoo parlors (please don't kill me, Pops!). The winter is the best time to get a tattoo cuz you have to stay out of the water for a few weeks afterward. I also recently got a credit card with airmile benefits, so that's exciting!

Last thing I can think of: I got my heart checked out and everything came out looking good. I have a slightly abnormal leak, but after numerous tests and blood work, the results came back that I'm closer to perfect than even I imagined (which is fucking close btw). Even my typically high blood pressure has receded a bit and my resting heart rate is now at 50bpm. Here's looking at you, Doran.

There's actually more on my mind, but it's late and Family Guy's misogyny is just too hilarious and distracting for this feminist tonight. So until next time....be safe, watch out for Tweets, and snap out of it Dopey (as I'm want to say on occasion)!

Wednesday

2011-12-14T15:39:00.004-05:00

Remember, if you're reading this blog, you're either intentionally or unintentionally supporting me. You're boosting my ego day after day as I come home and celebrate, "Hurray! The government hasn't shut me down yet! (followed by) Oh. My. God. I have like soooooooo many hits today, like no way, soooooooo many people like adore me, it's kinda funny except I don't know why...:) :) :)) Yep then three smiles successively. Your attention is worthy of such.

That being said, what kind of person is this dirtbag you're reading (3rd person alone should tell you something)? I mean, if you're gonna wear a Tebow jersey shouldn't you at least have slept with the guy first? Maybe that's why so many women wear Jeter pinstripes...In any case, here are a couple random tidbits that occurred while you were refreshing this page incessantly hoping for new content this morning.

Incident #1) I live close enough to campus that I really could walk. Instead of walking, I do what most Americans do, I drive. Except recently I discovered a free shuttle for AU students that transports us from one bus stop to another. Despite my aversion to do anything that helps the environment (the environment is just waaaaay too trendy right now), I begrudginly take it from time to time. This morning was going to be one of those times, but I had to pop my trunk to snatch my running shoes first.

What I observed, quickly turned my relatively peaceful resting state called 'borderline maniac' into complete 'raging lunatic'. I noticed that the car behind mine was touching my bumper. Actually, not just touching, humping, squeezing. My bumper was compressed like a kid's face against a window.

Not cool.

So to diffuse some of the steam coming out of my ears, I grab a pen and paper and draft a note to this son of a gun (I mean - bitch - but kids may potentially read this...oops sorry). After much writer's block and wasted paper (don't worry I'm taking the shuttle today, remember?), I wrote something like the following:

Hello,

I noticed your car is molesting my bumper. Why? What did my virgin car do to warrant such a forward advance? In my book that's called, "Rape". What does your book say on the matter? Is your book scholarly reviewed? Didn't think so. Look. Point is, your vehicle touches mine and me=:( (sad face). I am jotting down your license plate number in case any damage was incurred. DON'T do this again or I will be forced to use your vehicle as a toilet.

Thanks,
Conor

Of course a few moments after I wrote that I started to have regrets. I hustled back over to the car to right my wrong. I just couldn't live with myself after such an egregious error. I knelt down next to the passenger tire, took my key out of my pocket and unscrewed the cap over the tire pressure thingy. And then I jammed my key into the piece and it made a hissssssssssssssssssssing sound, kinda like air was coming out of this person's tires. That would make sense obviously because that was the goal. After a few pedestrians passed by looking non-plussed I tried to allay their confusion ("Oh, it's okay, I was going to use this as a toilet, but I think it needs to be firmly on the ground first to prevent a collapse").

Then I walked to the bus stop. But not before I snatched the eloquent note I composed off the winshield (sorry, yet another wasted paper). And noticed that the tag on the person's rearview displayed HANDICAP. Classy guy aren't I?

Incident #2) This one is much shorter. Every once in awhile I see some REALLY dumb bumper stickers. Sometimes they look like OBAMA 2012 or ROMNEY 2012. This is when it's handy to carry a few extra Calvin peeing stickers with you at all times. You never know when they'll come in handy.

That reminds me of when I used to put "Proud to be an Arizona Democrat" sticker over vehicles decalling BUSH/CHENEY. This was a favorite pasttime of mine when I was 18. I liked to think that I induced quite a few heart attacks (this is Arizona...people are old) and thereby help keep geriatric doctors gainfully employed. Everyone's gotta do their part to help the economy.

Today I saw one that read, "If you can read this, thank a teacher. If you can read this in English, thank a soldier."

As our country has been warding off imperialism from....from....well...you...know.. I figured just to be safe, I should ask the driver. Unfortunately, the driver of this Ford Escalade was nowhere to be seen. Drat. I waited a couple minutes and then decided for round 2 of handwriting experience.

Here's what I wrote:

Dear Friend,

I lyke your'e bumper sticker. I'm so sik and tyred of these idiot Mexe-cans hy-jacking our skools and recking havac. I'm sick of Guatemalla trying to invade our land too. I'm sick of Iraq also and other Arabs who are brown. I've seen waaaay to many of them lately over here. Oh and gays. Defintly hate gays. Or as we like to call them faggets! haha. We shud go hunting sometime and maybe see if we can find any Peruians hoo are always up to no good sneakin in the woods. Country first. GOD BLES. Friends 4 LYFE!

Dick Cheney.

Pizzzzimmmpppppin

2011-12-13T12:28:00.000-05:00

Y'all know the story. My main man D-Jeter be livin' it up big time!! He got so many chicks he practically running a factory farm. Got so many girls he's like a shoe store on clearance, baby! Not only does the man got game like Monopoly, he be letting 'em out in style too.

Check dis out, when I bang a chick, they be lucky to get Crispix the next morning. But na. Not JETER -PETER. This playa got his stuff on lock. After dey roll out of bed the next morning, he got a car waiting for them. Inside the car, he gives 'em a gift basket and some baseball memorbilia. Signed balls. Check that out. Don't want the ladies to forget his balls so he signs one for them to keep. Move over TEBOW, a new God has taken the throne.

Now you tell me this, you had to exchange a day-in-the-life with an athlete, who it gonna be??? Tebow's goin' to church, but Jeter is the man he's praying to. Can't nobody compare. When they say Jeter be playing the field you need to be asking, "Which one?"

'Dis guy be living the dream. MLK had a dream but even he couldn't imagine this shit.

More Pics from Summer Trip in Asia

2011-12-08T23:20:00.001-05:00

As always, click on the pic to ENLARGE...if ya wish

Some Warm Photos To Brighten up your Winter

2011-12-07T21:49:00.001-05:00

From this summer...mostly Cambodia...some Thailand as well I believe...enjoy

Go Away Meaney Protestors

2011-12-06T15:01:00.001-05:00

Tomorrow, K Street in D.C. is getting the smack down. In an effort to prevent a potential Occupy Remiss, I find it necessary to disclose the details of these provocateurs the day before to insulate my fellow angelically benevolent brethren (bankers, cops, lobbyists, other people who sleep indoors) north of the missing 'J' street in Washington. The occupying laborers will be bussed in from towns as obscure as Dayton to help man the streets and create mayhem in the fashion they know all too well - protesting and peeing on the elderly (so saw one of my accountant friend's moments after he foreclosed on the senior's house). The protestor could've been helping him up after a tumble, but that's just conjecture.

Now I'm not one to trivialize anecdotal evidence because we're only as good as the last person who peed on us, so lest I remind you, these people come armed and dangerous with non-violent activism, egalitarian philosophies, unwavering patience and completely legitimate gripes about government and private industry. In other words, "Fuck these people." Of course, my 'sympathizing' professor unwittingly scheduled a Final Exam in the late afternoon, perfectly precluding my proposed counter-protest of letting the banks continue as is - colluding with the federal government to enlarge the gap between wealthy and the poor. The protesters have already stolen Get Rich Quick from me (I don't know precisely how, but their presence alone is enough to assert blame), I won't let them take my Get Rich by Long-Term Steadfast Compliance. No. Can. Do. That's something I just can't stomach.

In order to exhibit solidarity with the helpless denizens of 'J' Street, I will don my best suit to class that night and place a $100 bill in place of my test to hand to the professor at the end of the exam. I probably only need a $20 as I'm quite confident he is clandestinely leading their assembly meetings and most likely takes the...I'm ashamed to say it....metro(!!!) instead of the Hummer-limo most rational people prefer. What a dork!

Nevertheless, I am appalled by the temerity of these protestors who accost innocent victims like Senators, lobbyists, Timothy Geithner, and other saints of our quaint nation. To put it mildly, do we not have enough prisons to incarcerate these scoundrels? Hello, Northrop Gruman, can we do something about this??? How am I supposed to concentrate with all the noise echoing from Freedom Plaza? The only reasons these people are free to protest is because of the bombs Boeing and Co. are dropping on Arab deserts far away keeping terrorists out of our backyard. Can't people recognize this? Is the 99% that sufficiently dense?

I don't know about you, but I am sick and tired of all the finger-pointing at Wall Street and Capitol Hill. These people need to get jobs and start pointing inward. And not that it matters to these mindless scum, but God is on our side. We will not be intimidated by compassionate sentiment. Our wills are too strong to submit to the tortures of appropriate tax rates. We will not be OCCUPI....

Holy Crap it's December

2011-12-05T10:55:00.001-05:00

After spontaneously running a half marathon a week ago (my twisted idea of fun), I was prepped to take it easy in my workouts this week. I'm concerned about injury and burning out and, moreover, worried about my heart palpitations that occurred a few weeks back (and annoyed by all the comments harassing me about it haha). Hence, I've decided to try the 3 weeks hard, 1 week recovery workout regimen. That is not to say I will not exercise during that recovery week, rather the intensities will be dialed down significantly.

I visited the doctor (begrudgingly) and cardiologist last Friday who thus far haven't found anything glaringly wrong with my heart. I have a few minor issues, but nothing to definitively trigger what I experienced (or any congenital failure). They ran multiple tests and took a blood sample. On Wednesday, I'm scheduled to wear a monitor for 24 hours straight (without showering...hello ladies :)) to see if they can find anything more concretely. Will keep you guys posted.

Perhaps psychosomatically, the bottom of my foot in the middle outside section began to throb sometime on Thursday morning. I had not run since the half marathon on Monday and had no idea of the pain's origination. I tried to run a few miles to see if it loosened up, but the pain became so severe I had to stop running within half mile. I didn't want to push it because I had the 15-k looming early Saturday morning.

Friday it felt worse and I doubted I would be able to participate even in the 5-k. However, Ghiradelli was sponsoring, this race was for chocolate, so I wasn't going to be deterred by a minor nuisance in my foot.

Saturday morning I woke up at 4:45A.M. to jog around the block a few times to test it out. It felt okay. No major pain. So I decided to shuttle down to the race.

Unfortunately, by the time I got to the starting line, merely walking was eliciting a grimace and I knew running 9 miles was about as probable as eating only one bite of the fondue. It. Just. Wasn't. Gonna. Happen.

Instead, I watched the 20,000 participants bottleneck and que in traffic as I impatiently waited for the fondue tent to open (this race garnered the worst feedback I've ever read online, entire websites and pages have been dedicated to slandering it). Finally.......WIN! I was perhaps the first person to receive the delectable goodness and it was well worth the early wake-up call.

Today I will swim and tomorrow I will likely bike (as I did on Sunday), which means I will give my foot almost 12 days off (I can't exercise from Wednesday morning to Thursday morning due to the heart test). I'm irritated as I don't want to lose my running fitness and have logged many, many miles the past 5 months. I've also made tremendous gains so let's hope those don't go to waste. My foot is already feeling much better.

Not As Think As You Dumb

2011-11-29T13:39:00.001-05:00

The past few months, this blog has shifted toward an emphatic trend of exercise - specifically triathlon training. Most posts touch on the subject to some degree and it's fitting because having a life and being a triathlete are mutually exclusive. With all the gear, time training, information overloading and upkeep thereof, most of my nights are spent lazily reading or watching TV (or streaking through undergrad classes). It's exhausting (especially when people steal your clothes). Socializing morphs into ephemeral visits as weekends are booked with long training sessions. If I were training for an Ironman like some of my friends, they'd take it a step further and claim their entire existence revolves around the big 3 (booze, sex and marijuana...oops wrong set of friends).

Nevertheless, some of you may have wondered where that irascible political crank is lurking - somewhere sandwiched between pool sets and the stationary bike. Did this guy (I love referring to me in the third person, it's almost less egotistical...nevermind...it's more) drop his intellectual inclinations completely and revert to jock status full-time?

Au contrare. I was never a curmudgeon to begin with (excuse moi...me?!?!).

No, actually, my long-distance cardio training is generally in the malapropistic 'persistent contemplative state'. Better than the typical vegetative state I imagine. I'm able to sort through my political quandaries and make those staircase - L'esprit de l'escalier - remarks hours afterwards (lots of French today ladies and gents or should I say Les mesdames and Les messieurs). Of course these remarks lose poignancy as I mumble them to myself and forget to write 'em down by the time I shower.

Tidbits of note: I have ingratiated with the anarchists (insert horrified shocks!!). As my nihilistic nature, I've found a home with other cranks and as a fledgling convert I have been reading voraciously about it. My transformation from statist to libertarian to anarchist is about as dramatic as Kim Kardashian becoming an ascetic (or reading a dinner menu). Much of my immersion deals with the concepts of liberty, autonomy, and the rejection of institutions of coercion and power (unless I'm in charge...then it's cool). As this exploration is on-going, feel free to ask more in the comments if you want to read posts about it.

I'm reading Howard Zinn's "A People's History.." This book reads like a highlight reel of coaches Sandusky and Fine on steroids. Each infraction (of our nation's past) is more egregrious than the last. I'm actually ashamed of my ignorance regarding my own country. I can't believe I've waited so long to read it (but I have read lots of People Magazines in the meantime so that should count for something). As awful as I think of most American History (and present, mind you) and our infatuation with exceptionalism, it's like getting mad at Hitler for wearing a mustache. There are bigger problems dude.

I wrote a significant paper in my culture class on American Exceptionalism and got a 95. Happy about that, especially since I got a 74 on the first exam. Maybe now I won't have to sleep with the professor to pass the class, but I'm gonna leave that option on the table for now...

The feminism club is wrapping up as we had our last official meeting of the semester yesterday night. Incredibly successful year after what initially appeared to be minimal participation. We're gonna have a party/dinner thing (I suggested going to a strip club) next Monday night and look forward to a strong spring semester. That was a no on my recommendation btw.

As far as I know, I'm still composing columns for the Eagle. I tried to write a challenging one on the military and even sent questions out to ROTC cadets and veterans on-campus but they thought my questions were offensive and refused to answer them via email. One guy said they were unprofessional and wrote a complaint to the editor-in-chief. Good times. Maybe next semeseter.

Absolutely loved every page of Klosterman's book and will be reading "Damned" by Palahniuk imminently. I'm also midway through "Corrections" by Franzen. Perhaps the greatest writer of our time (I say perhaps because I don't want to personally take offense).

Also, still adjusting to working full-time again, but so far so good. I haven't fallen asleep at my desk yet and when I get bored I just jog some stairs. Anyway, I'm always open for input on future posts so if there's anything specific you want to read about, I will most likely happily oblige. If not, perhaps I'll torment you guys with some more riddles or poetry...after all I'm in charge on here aren't I????

Garmin Turkey Trot and Last Week's Workouts

2011-11-27T16:35:00.001-05:00

Monday: Lift. 30 minute hard stationary bike. Break. 30 minute hard stationary bike.

Tuesday: Lift. Stationary bike 30 minutes hard effort. Run 2 miles. Stationary bike 30 Minutes (Very hard resistance). Run 2 miles.

Wednesday: 1 hour swim.

Thursday: 5-k Turkey Trot.

Friday: 36 mile bike ride.

Saturday: Vo2 max testing. (Ended up close to 6 miles total - run).

Sunday: Bike with buddy Doran 25 miles. Mostly flats. Hard effort.

S.O.M.E. Turkey Trot Recap

2011-11-26T18:02:00.001-05:00

Hope everyone had a lovely Thanksgiving. I proudly participated in my 4th Turkey Trot in D.C. benefitting the homeless in the morning. This is an important race because it is the only event I've participated in each year since moving to D.C. a tad over three years ago. And nothing proves you're American more than irrational loyalty to something. I'm also generally fairly choosy with my races as to not support certain themes (military, patriotism, etc.). Our dollars are already stolen enough to co-opt our minds with many of these things, I'd prefer to support Breast Cancer Research or Autism charities (or um....chocolate). These are more deserving of our dinero.

Next weekend is a 15-k (chocolate race), which I don't really have set goals for. I think I'll just run it for the joy (by which I mean the fondue of chocolate at the end of the race). That should only take a bit over an hour to finish. Although the incentive and olfactory whiffs may induce faster speeds! Sugar is paramount in my diet, one absolute staple.

Anyway, the race was moved to Freedom Plaza this year (where the peace branch of the Occupy Movement is protesting). The protesters were well mannered and some even supported the participants by refraining from peeing on them. It was good to see, in all honesty I have a tremendous amount of respect for these people (especially when I don't get peed on).

I drove down an hour early as if prepping for a triathlon, only to remember that all I have to do is pick up my bib and attach race chip to shoe (well, that's easy - even for me - although still takes me about half hour b/c I get so distracted). This left me with a lot of time to warm-up and check out all the babes and to debate sneaking in a quick nap in one of the occupier's tents. But I decided against the latter because I wasn't sure if it belonged to a protester or homeless person and didn't want to intrude.

A few weeks back I ran a new PR, 18:51, at a race benefitting Women in Politics at AU. That course had a few difficult hills while this one was almost entirely flat. So I was expecting a faster time. I set my pacer dude on my watch (this is one bad-ass watch ya know) for 18:30 and it tells me how far ahead or behind I am of this runner dude as I'm going along. I'll put the Garmin stats on here in a secondary post.

My first mile was predictably fast. Everyone jetted out quickly on the slight decline and I followed suit (it's a race after all). I lined up where my pace corral was intended (6:00 per mile) while 8 year-olds and 60 year-olds lined up ahead of me at 5 min. per mile. These people are allowed to be ran over. Our government would call this 'collateral damage'. I call them 'recipients of the stiff arm' or 'get the fuck outta my way I'm gunning for a PR over here - oh and Happy Thanksgiving :)'. Most receive one of the two, some of the real obstacles (meaning obese people) get both. I'm such a well-adjusted son of a gun...

Took me awhile to meander around the bastads, until I saw a guy who looked like he was maintaining his pace and would be good to follow. The race went by quickly. My pace slowed somewhere between 1.5-2.5 miles I believe. I was working hard, and ready to be done. I kept my sights on the fast looking fella and tried to keep the gap small.

I knew I was going to break 19 again, but wasn't sure by how much. I tried to leave enough in the tank for a kick, but actually was pleased that I couldn't muster one (meant I pushed myself the entire race). I crossed in 18:4something and my official gun-time was 18:36. Good enough for 34th overall (one woman beat me - emasculation is such sweet sorrow when you're a feminist). I was 33rd out of 2059 men (something like 2500 women). It feels good to be one of the earlier finishers. You get greeted with the loudest cheers, you get dibs on all the good food and you can beat the traffic and lines that come later (not to mention street cred and a high five from the turkey mascot - both of which are most important). Setting aside my reclusive, misanthropic ways (just for a few minutes mind you) I cheered on all finishers who made it under 28 minutes. I figure that those who are slower than that weren't worthy of my kindness (I have only a limited supply and must be given in proper dosages or I will end up like those Vampires in the movies).

I'm feeling good. I've gained about 10 pounds (yikes!) since the end of the tri season, but I have incorporated more speed workouts into my training and my times continue to decrease. I'm focusing hard on bike/run this winter, hoping to kick ass and take names next summer come tri season.

Watch out. More coming soon...

Column Link

2011-11-22T10:49:00.001-05:00

This should be my last column for the semester, published today. I gotta work Wednesday and Friday, although it seems most other people have those days off. Thanksgiving is the run for the homeless so no sleeping in for me!

Speaking of fed. government snafus: The Super-committee failed to compromise on the budget. Does this come as a surprise to anyone? An even number of people from opposite parties (who despise each other) were supposed to solve the crisis? This was such a laughably doomed plan from its inception it'd be smarter to convert Muslims to Jews. The government once again, proving its ineptitude . But don't worry ladies and gents let's keep entrusting them because, after all, they're keeping us safe. Gag me.

http://www.theeagleonline.com/opinion/story/reserving-the-right-to-change-our-minds/

Last Week's Workouts

2011-11-21T11:35:00.001-05:00

So Mi Mama came and left and she is now safely back in the hole of hell known as Durango, Colorado. She left D.C. yesterday at 5:30 P.M. (EST) and didn't arrive in Durango until almost 1AM (MST). Quite a trip! Besides having to deal with the cantankerous me, she said she had a wonderful trip and it was fun to usher her around my city. I took her to District restaurants like Coco Sala, Ben's Chili Bowl, Busboy's and Poets, Los Cuates, Sprinkles, and Vappianos. She got to see where i work (The Mark Center) the MLK memorial, the Jefferson, The Lincoln, FDR, The Mall area, the SW waterfront, Georgetown, American University, all of GW, Bethesda and the farmer's market at Dupont Circle. In between she visited nursing school friends (she's a College Park UMD alumna) in Columbia and Ellicot City, Maryland.

Kinda feel bad for Pops. He got the short shrift when he came out.

I had a busy week but was able to sneak in a few workouts as always. I'm running the Turkey Trot for the Homeless (only thing I've done every year since I moved to D.C.) Thanksgiving morning. Last year I caught the flu that night and threw up the biggest meal of the year ALL NIGHT. I'll try and avoid that this time. I am looking to run another P.R. The course moved this year, but it's still relatively flat which is in my favor. I'm also getting my VO2 max tested. I've wanted to do this for YEARS and finally found a good opportunity to do it this weekend. It's 90 bucks, but since i don't have a coach and make up all my workouts myself, it can help me make sure I'm training at the right HR zones.

Have you guys been reading about the deaths lately? The Washington Post did a big spread on deaths (9) in triathlon this year, and 2 people died this past weekend during the Philadelphia Marathon. As extreme sports gain traction among the general populace, more people believe they can compete and are often unprepared. It's pretty scary as it can happen to anyone (including me with my heart issues), but what's troubling is it's becoming the norm, not the abberation.

I'm gonna start registering for my 2012 races this week. I'm thinking of doing the bigger ones that are a distance away but would make for excellent weekend trips (Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, Deleware, Columbia, etc.) I will post a proposed schedule as a new column as soon as I confirm my spots....

Monday: 45 minute lift. Tuesday night Hill Ride loops (4 laps). 26 miles total.

Tuesday: 45 minute lift. 8x7x6x5x4x3x2x1 minute fast runs with half the time off (walking) in between each interval.

Wednesday: 300 yard warm up swim. 15x100. 5x200. 1x500. 300 yard cool down.

Thursday: 35 minute spin (stationary bike - time trial). 15 minute run. Then repeat.

Friday: 45 minute lift. 10k run in 39:40.

Saturday: Off. I'm gettin' lazy over here!!!!

Sunday: 12 mile run 1:30.

Who (and Where) My Readers Are

2011-11-17T10:56:00.001-05:00

Sometimes I get curious who is reading my thoughts (besides God and the gov't). Last night after school, a classmate approached me and said he and his girlfriend read my latest column (print edition). He said he really liked it, but his girlfriend thought it was bullshit. Apparently they argued about it for awhile and agreed to disagree (meaning both parties agree that the other one is stupid - we call this win-win in America). So I did the only logical thing to do. I told him to dump his girlfriend immediately. It's clear she has bad taste.

No, I told him that she wasn't the only one. Most feedback I received was negative or disputed my premise. Which just goes to show you that 'being wrong' is a virus and it's spreading dangerously. Thankfully, I remain immune via my righteousness - as God has spared me from this by whispering 'perfection' the moment of my birth (or maybe he said 'rejection' - hard to tell with all the background noise). On the rare occasion where I misstep (never), I'm amenable to learning from my blunder. Although usually the way this plays out is something like the following: 1) large consensus of people say I'm wrong. 2) me insert iPod headset. 3) repeat.

Or I write a retraction (or close enough) on my blog.

Anyway, you (yes, you) have stolen the attention that is rightfully mine today (thanks a lot), because I want to know just who my audience is. I don't know about The Eagle columns, but I do have some tools at my disposal through Blogger. Blogger has this neat little icon I found recently called, "Stats." I'm actually quite surprised I didn't notice this earlier as stats used to be as important to me as sugar or shoplifting (or both combined on a good day). I remember crushing a team by 20 and shooting a three as time expired just so I could say I scored 30. Some people call this 'being an asshole.' For me, it's about basking in the glory of your awesomeness (aka asshole).

Okay, okay, this time I'm really gonna focus on you guys. When I click on the Stats button, tons of charts and maps and graphs appear. I get everything from how many hits I've garnered today to which country people are viewing from.

So without further delay, let's review:

In the last month I have the following hits from these places.

United States

1,067

Netherlands

103

Israel

United Kingdom

Russia

Germany

Canada

Egypt

Ukraine

India

All time looks something like this:

United States

17,092

Ukraine

422

Canada

385

United Kingdom

344

Netherlands

331

Germany

330

Russia

307

France

185

Luxembourg

116

Israel

111

It also supplies quick snapshots:

Pageviews today

Pageviews yesterday

Pageviews last month

1,740

Pageviews all time history

21,732

Granted, a slew of these hits could be from SPAM. Or maybe the Netherlands just think I'm dope as shit. Hard to tell. Point is, when I arrive in any one of these countries I'm expecting the red carpet and the royal treatment. If it's the Netherlands I'm expecting prime opium. And if it's Israel, at least one shotgun.

But It's My HOME TEAM!!!!

2011-11-14T12:45:00.001-05:00

Previously, I've posted about how I almost always 'cheer' (dance wildly sans clothes) for the winning team. As a fan of practically every sport, I like to cheer for winners. A day in my brain is filled with such nihilistic frustration, that the last thing I want to do is plop on the couch and encounter my favorite team being snipped and sheered by the lowly Clippers. I just don't. My day sucked already. So, if the Clippers happen to be opposing my favorite team, I will try and find endearing things about this group and reappropriate my feelings for the evening (assuming 'my' team is the one losing) and jump on the bandwagon near Staples Center. My 'team' wins regardless. It's a wonderful life after all :).

Most people don't agree with this sentiment (see reason(s) for nihilism above) and continue to express their brio behind a bunch of people they've never met and vicariously put their emphasis on winning behind a group of men that could often care less (they get paid either way, right?). This we call - normal behavior. Which reminds me of the quote, what do you do when it's the society that's insane, not you??? Answer: They lock you up in an institution somewhere.

But what's really aggravating, is when people have that unconditional feeling that never waivers. Like Penn State fans. Despite Joe Paterno's dismissive handling of flagrant acts of pedophilia, the students, and many alumni have rallied around him. Who cares about justice ladies and gentlemen? Forget about the child victims, we're talking about JOE PATERNO here.

Wait, but, should'nt we be focusing on the chil...
This guy is a hero! An Icon!
Right, but, don't these kids deserve justi...
To fire this man in his last season and tarnish his repuation! Preposterous!
Okay, but didn't he implicitly condone this type of behavior by not going to authorit...
I just can't believe Good Ol' Joe is taking the fall for this.

Variations of this very conversation I have had over the past week (gag me).

With my Mom in town (a Pennsylvania gal) we were not immune. Not only did she have some lukewarm affectionate feelings behind Joe Blow, she is also a Pittsburgh Steelers fan.

I don't think any woman should have to cheer for a guy like Ben Rothlesberger. Guy is a creep. Possibly a rapist. Certainly a chauvinistic, egotistic punk. Why should a woman like my Mom have to cheer for this man?

Other guys on that roster aren't shining beacons of civility and respect either. (not that the Steelers are alone here)

Anyway, my beef is with people clinging onto their hometown teams. I think it's ridiculous. If the Phoenix Suns trade Steve Nash and replace him with Delonte West, I'm not gonna cheer for the Suns anymore. I shouldn't have to. I change my favorite 'team' and 'players' constantly. I'm open-minded like that. We have a right to change our minds when something 'new' comes out about an individual and team that we disapprove of. We call this being discrening. Being informed. And perhaps, being open-minded.

Michael Vick is a good example. I thought the guy was a magnificent player. Then I found out about the dog-ring and used that information to influence my decision about my support of him. ***Sidenote: I also think it's impossible to COMPLETELY disregard any condemning personal information and see only the 'athlete.' I don't think it's possible to actually do that honestly.Perhaps with certain petty individual offenses, but not with something as egregious as child rape or wholesale slaughtering of dogs.***

Granted, I have come to once-again appreciate Michael Vick. He served his time. He has done some good work with PETA and other animal rights groups. He seems contrite and has no intention of repeating that heinous act again. He's also a tremendous athlete and one that works really hard (unlike Big Ben). Once again, I'm exercising my discretion to 'change my mind'.

The main culprit I'm getting after here is the notion of 'unconditionality'. It may seem like a romantic concept. It may seem loyal. It may seem resolute and principled. But it's handicapped by refusing to allow new information to alter our perspectives. That is extremely dangerous, and something we shouldn't be indulging in.

Cheering for your hometown team may seem natural (it's certainly pervasive). And I always have a special affinity for Arizona squads (and now, Washington ones too). But I reserve the right to cheer for the Patriots ( Tom Brady is just so damn sexy) when they crush the New York Jets. But I'm telling ya, if he leaves Gisele and knocks up another supermodel, I just might change my mind (as then he truly is God incarnate).

Last Week's Workouts

2011-11-13T23:46:00.000-05:00

Been notably absent the past few days. I'm trying to hibernate until all the military adoration is over. May be composing another column on this insane, pervasive veneration next week...Also, Mom arrived to visit Saturday afternoon, so I've been doing my best to usher her around D.C. She's getting the lowdown on all the authentic Washington hotspots. I absolutely love having her in town, she's a remarkable woman.

Monday: 1 hour lift w/ abs. Hill Repeats on the bike. 14 total (off Mass and Goldsboro). 20 miles overall.

Tuesday: 40 minute lift. 20x.3mile speed running workout. .1mile walk after each. All between 11.1-11.4 mph.

Wednesday: 35 mile bike ride (mostly flats).

Thursday: 45 minute lift. 10-k in 39:40.

Friday: Off (IT HAPPENS!!!!!!!) Did do a 2 hour leisurely hike for good measure.

Saturday: 11 mile run (7:37 pace)

Sunday: 10 minute abs. 50 minute swim.

So...Maybe I'm Wrong

2011-11-10T14:14:00.000-05:00

Sir Charles (Barkley) once noted, "I may be wrong, but I doubt it." I'll always have a special affinity for the Round Mound of Rebound. Growing up in Phoenix, he was my hero in the early 90's - him and Macaulay Culkin (probably not in that order). Sure he has his flaws - screwing prostitutes, throwing people through windows, being er, larger than expected, but Charles certainly doesn't beat around the bush. He calls it like he sees it, and there's almost nothing I appreciate more than someone who is unapologetically honest. He was also a damn good ball player, even though he never eclipsed KJ as my favorite.

I bumped into Barkley a few times during my childhood in the Phoenix area (a couple times at Burger King). One notable time was the morning after Team USA played China in an exhibition game. As pundits were wont to criticize Charles for his 'lackadaisical' work ethic, what my Pops and I witnessed startled us. Chugging along the sidewalk on Shea Boulevard wearing blue Auburn shorts and a damp grey t-shirt was Barkley. He was alone. And he was huffing and puffing.

It was 112 degrees. And the few mesquite and palm trees offered little reprieve to shield the sun.

So what does Pops do? He turns off Shea and flips a U-Turn in the neighborhood. "What's going on, Dad?" I asked quizically.

"Let's track 'em down. Maybe you can get his autograph. He couldn't have gone that far...this is Barkley we're talking about." (good point)

He quickly maneuvered around the cul-de-sac and drove a few blocks ahead of the direction Barkley was running. We idled inside the truck, hoping he would continue his trajectory. A minute later, he arrived and we burst out of the car to greet him with the ebullience of a heist. Poor guy. Two white dudes accost him, he never had a chance. I snatched a yellow legal pad my Pops always keeps with him and luckily, we didn't spook Charles off (we probably coulda caught his ass if he tried to run anyway). In fact, he stopped running and chatted for a minute, scribbled down his John Hancock and sweated all over the yellow paper. You can see the dried rippled sweat marks to this day.

Charles didn't have a poor work ethic. That was bullshit. Charles had problems. Like gambling, staying out late, drinking, overeating fast food, but that dude would train hard. He did everything hard. That's just who he is.

Anyway, that was a longer tangent than intended, so back to his famous words. My latest column - in a nutshell- says that women are instinctively attracted to fit men. And that the reason some claim they don't really care that much (about dating men who are fit), is only by watching their glutton's of a father growing up and watching TV. Socialization has battled their inner predilections. Now, it's completely normal for women to accept >30 men as heavy or out of shape. Even younger in some cases. And even as expectations for their own gender remain high.

My hypothesis is actually a bit deeper, but more or less this is how I feel. However, after having a few discussions with females I found it's a 'slim' possibility that I'm wrong. Me! Wrong?! Is this possible? I know, I know, it's about as likely as getting struck by lightning indoors, but that HAPPENS.

Is it possible I'm placing my emphasis on fitness vicariously onto women to validate my own hard work? Are women REALLY NOT as 'shallow' as men - and it's not just a byproduct of the culture?

I'm non-plussed. Many women I speak with claim that looks (specifically how toned a body is) are marginally important (at best). And the evidence speaks for itself. So maybe I'm just projecting my importance of fitness onto others to justify my own 'shallow' views. Is it possible I'm wrong?

It's possible. But I doubt it.

Column Link

2011-11-08T10:28:00.001-05:00

It's been about a month since the ruckus that was my last column. In between, I was due to compose another, but was incapacitated because my irregular heart rate affected my brainwaves and focus. But I did manage to write one last week that was published today.

**Some back-story on this column** - It was my intention not to write a heavily slanted opinion. My main goal was to spawn some discussion and make people examine the issue. The editors had some problems following the flow and discerning 'the point'. After many back-and-forths, what you see is the final product (after much cropping/editing/crying). I always struggle with the way I want to compose a piece and the formulaic way I'm (somewhat) expected to. Most writers ascribe to a certain format, and at times so do I. But other times I just want to write to challenge, and elicit critical examination, nothing more complicated than that.

Anyway, the idea came from a lively discussion we had where a friend mentioned that his girlfriend didn't care if he exercised or not. She liked him anyway. Perhaps I can follow-up with more depth but see for yourself...

http://www.theeagleonline.com/opinion/story/six-packs-no-match-for-social-norms/

Last Week's Workouts

2011-11-06T20:17:00.000-05:00

This is from the home site of runwashington.com. I hate to admit it, but I'm the one in the blue on blue (in tights). Just bought them the day before (what kind of Phoenix kid owns a pair of tights??)

Getting lazy over here. Well, so are you, actually. I ask for one thing...one simple thing (resting heart rate) and you can't even get me that? You guys are in timeout.

Okay, I'll let it slide. Truth is, I have a significant paper due this Wednesday and I've put it off until this weekend, meaning I haven't had time to post. I did run an 18:51 5-k race this weekend (putting me 5th overall). My feminism group at AU sponsored the Race to Representation 5-k. The proceeds from the race go to the institute that helps elect women. Below is a pic of the flier I made that went in over 400 race day packets. Anyway, really, really cold, but a fun race and my first mile split was 5:22. A wee bit fast lol. I'll be looking to run a tad faster (overall time) at the race for the homeless on Thanksgiving morning.

Monday: 45 minute lift w/ abs. 10k run in 39:40.

Tuesday: 23 mile hill ride. Hard Effort.

Wednesday: 30 min. lift w/ abs. Swim 300yd warm-up. 10x100, 5x200, 5x100, 300 yard cool down.

Thursday: 45 min. lift. 2 mile run @ 12:35. 60 min. spin class (pretty much sucked). 2 mile run @12:25.

Friday: 30 min. lift. 45 minute swim.

Saturday: 5-k race 18:51.

Sunday: 12 mile run in 1:31.

Facial Hair

2011-11-01T23:46:00.007-04:00

Bear with me for a second. So Brad Pitt and I are actually a lot alike. We're both men. We both like chicks. We're both spectacularly handsome. We both have been to a movie. We both have facial hair. There are probably other similarities of note, but that's a sufficient truncated list for now.

On nights when I'm bored and not preoccupied with typical guilty pleasures like mugging the elderly, I hop online. Hopping online is fun. It's like typing and scrolling online, but you burn more calories this way. Anyway, after 'hopping' online, I think of interesting things to Google (coincidentally, this will be my future excuse for 'private time' away from my wife).

Sometimes I come up with some pretty lame stuff. Stuff like, "Does cracking your fingers really cause arthritis?" Or maybe, "What's a good resting pulse rate?" Actually, I still want to know the answer to this (mine's 54), and the only way to do so is by conducting an irrefutable, undeniable, scientific poll (the same way they decide who to elect President). Therefore, I'm asking all my readers to comment with their RESTING PULSE RATE. And credit card number. Both of those things. Okay, if you forget the credit card #, I'll let it slide (get it) this time. Man, narcotics really make me loopy (you're thinking to yourself, is he really on PK's or is he just fucking with us?? And..I'm not telling).

Back to me and Brad. As many of you may know, "Fight Club" is one of my favorite movies. Sure, not enough people die. Yes, there's not enough sex scenes. I know. And yes, not as many innocent people are killed to satisfy the typical American appetite, but let's give it 4 stars out of 5.

Anyway, no one is handsome(er) than Pitt in this film. Whenever normal people see someone who they admire, the natural next step is to ascertain how close they are to this person. In Mr. Pitt's and I's case, we can safely determine (based on lengthy empirical list in first paragraph) we're practically twins. Therefore, I will Google the phrase, Brad Pitt Facial Hair.

And here you have a ton of options to choose from. Probably generates more hits than David Guetta. That dude is creative (Pitt, that is). So the next logical step in the 'person you admire' theory is to replicate what they do. "Hey, if it looks good on them, it will look good on me."

Problem is, as stunning as both of us are, he and I don't look that much alike. My facial symmetry is perfect while his nose looks like he broke it a few times. Also, his ears are too big. Oh, and his hairline is receding like polar ice caps. Besides that, (as mentioned before) he's almost attractive. But the logical next step is to apply his facial hair to moi, and then the transformation from twins to 'clone' is complete. Wa la...

So why when I look in the mirror am I still not seeing his reflection? Do I need botox???

Last Week's Workouts

2011-10-31T12:53:00.000-04:00

Thankfully, my heart rate returned to normal this week and I was able to have a great week training. Oh, and Happy Halloween!! The leaves have pretty much all turned colors by now and I should be able to snap some pics of 'em in the next week or so...

Monday: Heart rate still iffy, until during workout it finally gave-in (not up, gratefully!). 1.78 mile run. Had to stop cuz heart. 1 mile run. Then another 1 mile run (all my heart could handle at once). Decided, eh, I'm just gonna crank one out here, and see what happens. 3.1 mile run. Heart rate escalated and then got in a rhythym and felt great during the 5-k. 2 mile run (just for kicks).

Tuesday: 23 mile hill bike ride. Hard effort.

Wednesday: 30 minute lift. Speed workout. 1600x1, 1200x1, 800x1, 400x1.Then reverse. See previous post from last week w/ Garmin.

Thursday: 45 minute lift w/ abs. Spin class. 70 minute bike w/ 'hills' 'jumps', 'intervals', 'sprints'. 2 mile run @ 12:35.

Friday: 1 hour swim.

Saturday: Abs. 11 mile run. 7:40 per mile splits.

Sunday: 2 mile run @ 12:40. 20 minute time-trial on spin. Hard effort. 10 minute hard run. 20 minute spin.

Garmin is Here!

2011-10-27T09:35:00.001-04:00

Finally got myself a Garmin. Right in time for the indoor running season! Pretty pathetic timing on my part. However, I did purchase a foot pod, so running indoors can still be tracked and scrutinized. I'm going to try and find a way to embed it so you can check out what I did yesterday (a treadmill speed workout). The watch is a Forerunner 305. It's capable of working in swim, bike, and run. Although it's best for the run. You can click on the view details and it will give you an idea of the workout. It has a million different features I'm still getting acquainted with. I'm a Garmin neophyte. But, you can review cadence (strides per minute), heart rate, speed, pace, calories, etc. It's actually fairly incredible. Anyway, if you're interested check it out. The workout was 1x1600m, 1x1200m, 1x800m, 1x400m, and then the reverse with walking breaks in between (why you see the big drops)....

Going Poddy

2011-10-26T22:24:00.001-04:00

Remember that promise I made about more photos and bringing you the best (and freest) content on the net? No? Good, me neither. Or at least, let's suspend that entry for now, and focus on more pressing matters. Like specifically, the ones in your bladder. Makes sense not to have pics now doesn't it?

We all go to the bathroom. And even though I have girlfriends who swear they've never gone number 2, well, I usually tend to believe em. Besides, it's better if they puke up their meals anyway. But let's steer away from that for now and talk about dude's in bathrooms.

First, we pause for a personal quirk. I don't like listening to other people going to the bathroom. I think it's something along the lines of, 'fucking weird' and makes me really uncomfortable. So, say for example I'm visiting a friends place and they have a common area bathroom. I usually just go to the one near the bedrooms. Remember, my hearing is shitty, and I go to great lengths trying to prevent the literal interpretation of those words from occurring. I can't imagine what it's like for people who hear well.

Anyway, if I don't have the luxury of going somewhere else, I am forced to use the 'common area bathroom.' This of course induces a lot of stress. To minimize the damage, I turn on the faucet and listen to the water run. This accomplishes two things: It helps me go. And it allays my qualms with knowing that other people can hear me peeing. Generally in this situation, I'm okay. I'm wasting water, no doubt, but let's call this 'collateral damage'.

At work (and other venues), we have things like 'large bathrooms.' These are places where we and others can relieve ourselves simultaneously. No waiting necessary. Women have separate stalls (and waiting is always necessary). Men generally have one or two stalls, plus a few urinals. Sometimes there's even a divider between the urinals which ensures no 'peekage' (at fancy shmancy places). Comparing cock size is something that men just do. It's been going on since the days of Babylon. It ain't gonna stop. Dividers don't even deter some guys. Deal with it we must.

Anyway, in the bathroom, you encounter a few different types of men. You have the 'whistler'. This is the guy who, true to his name, feels an obligation to make the awkwardness of peeing right next to a stranger even worse by whistling loudly. Every man hates this guy. Probably even the dude who's doing the whistling. It's like a sign saying, "Look at me! Look how insecure and uncomfortable and awkward I am!" I mean, I'd probably prefer the dude just come right out and say that verbatim, than have to listen to this strange man whistle in my ear as I pee. Go. Away.

Moving on. (Having fun yet??). Next we have the talker. Everyone hates this guy too. In order to mitigate the awkwardness, he engages in conversation. This is like a person who, in order to prevent conflict, just starts randomly pushing people to the ground. Hey, it's gonna be awkward, why not just embrace it!! I usually say something like, "I'm deaf" or "Mexican" or "Gay" and they leave me alone (although gay is admittedly riskier). Sometimes the talker morphs into the whistler after a few failed attempts at the former. It happens. Fuck this guy.

Moving on. We have the hyper-defensive altar boy types. These guys also have a knack for making things awkward. They angle themselves in such a way that you can't help but feel sorry for 'em. For the ladies reading (wow, you made it this far...really?), this is the guy who pees at a right angle. He's so exaggeratedly pivoted, that you'd think he was peeing on the wall (and sometimes actually is). I don't know about you, but when in the bathroom I don't want to feel pity (for that sorry slug). Especially when I'm holding my cock. Just saying.

Moving on. Next you have the 'person you know'. This is a tough one. I want to say we all hate this guy too, but sometimes it's not true (sometimes maybe it is). This one is where you hope there's a ton of unoccupied urinals cuz you don't want to pee right next to him. But sometimes there's only two. Or three, and the whistler wisely chose the outside. In this situation I usually pretend to text or try for the stall. Sometimes I say, oops, forgot something. And walk aimlessly outside for 30 seconds then return forgetting what it was that I was supposed to have forgotten. Either way, guys aren't good at following up, so no justification needed. Carry on.

One time, my girlfriend at the time's father came into the bathroom right behind me. It was at Sun Devil Stadium in Tempe, Arizona (section 300-320). And in Tempe, you get only the classiest of establishments. It's basically a bin in the middle of the room where men circle and pee into. I really wish I was making this up. Someone thought this was a good idea. So basically you're face-to-face with some stranger emptying your bladder in a giant trough. Except, in this case, it wasn't a stranger but my girlfriend's father.

Of course he looked at my cock, jesus, you really had to ask?

Anyway, the point of this, is that channeling Woody Allen's Jewish hypochondria and paranoia, I have a hard time going at all in 'common bathrooms.' I have bashful bladder symptom or whatever. I literally cannot go until I get a window of solitude. All I need is a few moments of silence (or if there's one other person who's washing up - uncommon in itself). But if this doesn't happen, I either hold it and go later, or I wait impatiently until my moment comes.

I swear, I have cooler quirks than this, but, none shittier. hardy har.

Who Are You?

2011-10-24T11:13:00.003-04:00

No one really knows. Except you, if you care enough to pay attention. You're probably really awkward. Maybe you binge on chocolate mints late at night and head to bed without brushing your teeth afterward. Perhaps you think this is permissible. Normal even. Your mouth tastes fresh, so that's good enough, no?

Maybe you drink milk straight out of the jug. Maybe you prefer the texture of plastic as opposed to the quotidian glass. Or maybe you're just lazy. Maybe you wipe the lip of the carton as if that prevented any potential sanitation problems. No harm done, eh?

Maybe you try on your girlfriends clothes when she's not home. Perhaps you get a rush from sniffing through someone else's underwear or you hope to find something incriminating when sifting through their stuff so that you can covertly leverage that information against them. Each time you see them you then know something about them that they don't know you know. Or maybe, you're just curious like a cat. Bored.

We're all unique. We all have visible external worlds where we conduct our daily lives in variations of ourselves. We are all lovers. We're all brothers, sisters, sons or daughters. We either exercise or we don't. We read books, watch television and walk around the mall. We work and have personalities that are critiqued behind our backs and lauded/ridiculed on occasion. Interacting with others will always elicit some type derision or praise.

But what are you like when no one's around? Is that the one - the only - true unblemished depiction of you? Is the only time you're really you, is when you're completely isolated and alone? Or do we all purvey multiple personas depending on the circumstance and there is no such thing as a 'true you'. Maybe we're just multiple layers of quirks and actors depending upon the societal influences that 'tell us' how to be. Even behind close doors. Perhaps you suppress your inner longing to crank up the stereo to Backstreet Boys and dance flamboyantly. Even in the solitude of your own home. Sure, maybe you like it, but you're not supposed to like it. And dancing...dude, are you gay? Or maybe you shun the distant disparaging. No one's gonna know anyway, right?

Klosterman's new book, "The Visible Man" delves into this topic to a certain degree. The book channels a conversation between a social worker and her client. The client surveils people by using an 'invisible' suit and cream. He's no rapist or pervert. Not a thief nor a killer. He is intrigued by watching the contrast of the person known to the world externally, from the person who's alone in the comfort of their own pad. Hidden cameras could potentially capture the same thing, but imagine someone being in the room with you. Someone in your cubicle after everyone else has departed for the night. What if someone was literally invisible 2 feet beside you.

You wouldn't know of course, so you'd act how you 'usually' would.

Which is what? Do you Facebook stalk your exes? Do you have an unhealthy obsession with a celebrity? Do you compose emails and then delete them once you deem them awful? Then compose them again. Then send them. Then reread what you sent 45 times in a row and wish you could revise? Do you pick your nose? Belch?

This concept is something that's fascinated me for a long time. People we think we know - say, our closest friends. Are they fantasizing about stealing and sleeping with your spouse? Can you ever definitively know? Do you do that very thing?

Do your folks portray the facade of a harmonious relationship, however they rarely speak, much less touch when no one else is near. Do you know someone who is financially comfortable and stable? Someone you know who is unequivocally wealthy. Maybe they come home and spend hours in a furious panicked state guarding their assets and investments. Maybe they get down on their hands and knees and pray to maintain their good fortune. Or maybe they follow stock scrupulously.

Anyway, I have no opinion on the matter except that I'm fascinated by these variations of self. I think it's normal and that we all 'try' to some extent to remain true to our character and personality. It's not that we're all phonies. It's that, well, do you really want to smell that fart???

It's expected, we wear a muted cap of ourselves. The world isn't prepared to accept all of our idiosyncrasies without flatly rejecting them (or so we envision). But if you could follow one person for 48 hours and watch there every move, would you want to? Just to note the discrepancies between who we know them to be and who they actually are. What would it reveal, and would you be scared of knowing that information?

Last Week's Workouts

2011-10-23T22:51:00.001-04:00

It's been a rough couple of days. After nothing shy of a stellar opening to last week, I've suffered irregular heartbeats from Friday through today. It's alarming. My heart will beat thud...thud...thudthudthud........thud. It's no good. And makes me feel short of breath all the time. No joke, I sat down to check my blood pressure and pulse at the drug store and the pulse came back 0. 0!!! This is the first time I've ever seen that happen.

Oh well, if it continues tomorrow I'm going to the doctor.

Could be excessive exercise. Could be genetics (it runs in my family). Could be stress induced. Could be diet related. All are possibilities.

Here is last week's workouts..

Monday: 40 minute lift w/ abs. 10k run in 39:30.

Tuesday: Bike hill ride. 23 miles. Fast, hard effort.

Wednesday: 20x400m run @1:23. Speed workout. 30 minute slow swim.

Thursday: 30 minute lift. 70 minute spin class w/ intervals and 'hills'. 2 mile run @12:35.

Friday: Wanted to do 10 mile slow run. But couldn't get through it cuz my heart. Did 7.5 miles in one hour.

Saturday: 50 mile bike ride. Was awful. Literally awful, slow, cold, miserable. And my heart felt terrible.

Sunday: Finally took a day off cardio. 1 hour lift.

In the next day or two I'm gonna post about an excellent new book I'm reading. I'm currently reading 4-5 books, it's ridiculous. It will be regarding the new one by Chuck Klosterman...amazing read.

Occupy DC

2011-10-20T22:34:00.000-04:00

Apologies for the tardiness of this post. I've been down like the temperature over this animal slaughter in Ohio. I'M ANGRY!!!!!

Seriously, I am. It's got me in a funk. I don't even feel like posting. So I will post some photos from Occupy D.C. last weekend...enjoy...

So this fella seemed to be one of the 'leaders.' He started speaking one sentence at a time and everyone else would repeat him. I don't remember much of what he said, why not just use a megaphone...then I remembered...uh, cuz they'd taze him. Woulda been more exciting than his speech.

Group meeting. Discussing the best ways to occupy.

I tried to book this suite but it was reserved.

There was a line of signs posted on a fence. I think the # sign is designated for Twitter. Occupy fail.

Actually maybe the best sign I saw all day.

Can't have a protest without a bike. It's crucial. Bikes and protests go together like gay peeps and fashion.

Well, how about it???

This reminds me of the Aerosmith song.

One of the more lively of the bunch. Can't occupy w/o naps.

Even dogs occupy.

This girl had some real talent.

This dude....not so much. I could smell his hair from where I shot this pic from.

Dude's girlfriend. I know this is the type of person you'd expect at the protests. Long hair is the new 'having money'.

What's a commune w/o a hospital...the sign actually leads to a park bench with a lady on it (coming later).

ORGANIZATION! A whole agenda, although napping and hula hooping was not on so I volunteered to scribble them in. They didn't let me.

The American 'Eurpoeans'.

Someone handed me a flier. So I snapped a pic of it. Occupy D.C. isn't a what...it's a WHO...WHO knew!??!?

Moments before he soothed into a deep nap...while standing. Or maybe that was me. Either way, quite impressive.

I thought this chick was pretty cute so I made it look like I was randomly taking shots. She was eyeing me evidently...

WE WANT FOOD! Someone made some Italian food so this chick started scooping it out.

Literally 2 seconds later another leader-dude reprimanded her for not wearing gloves! GLOVES!! What are we animals??!! We gonna sleep outside next?? She didn't take it well and stormed off. Occupy fail #2.

Environmentalists...rest assured you will be taken care of.

Even a library. I asked if they carried Ann Coulter. They said no. Actually they said fuck no. And I said, well that could come in handy for the winter ya know...

We still love America...don't get us wrong. Patriotism never waivers! Not even with sky-hi unemployment and politicians bailing out the banks. But ya know, God bless us.

Another sign...

Where the medical sign pointed to. She's the resident doc.

1/2 a block away.

1 block away.

2 blocks away.

Turning right, same spot.

Turning left, same spot.

Turning one way or another, you got BofA in the distance...

Last Week's Workouts

2011-10-17T23:13:00.000-04:00

Had a great one today, whew boy. Had one of those days where I was running fast (for me) and felt phenomenal. I don't struggle as much as others on the run, but today was special. I'll have to remember this day when I have one where I'm in agony.

Monday: 25 minute lift. 5 miles @ 6:35 pace. 1.2 miles @6:30 pace.

Tuesday: 23 mile bike ride. Hills. Tough Effort.

Wednesday: 30 minute lift. Yasso 800's. 10x800m @2:50-2:55.

Thursday: Swim for time. 75 minutes.

Friday: 20 minute lift. 10 mile run in 76 minutes.

Saturday: 27 mile bike ride (flats) at tempo pace.

Sunday: 3.25 mile run. 300 yard warm up swim. 10x100 yard swim. 5x200 yard swim. 300 yard cooldown.

Pictures!!!

2011-10-16T20:59:00.000-04:00

In my ever-evolving quest to bring you the finest (and free(st)!!) commentary on the net, I've developed a bit of a game plan. After frequenting many other bloggers' sites, I find one theme they have in common...PICTURES! People tend to like these things. Words confuse them. And really are just superfluous (a superfluous word in and of itself). Who needs scathing social commentary, indictments on the dominant culture and its abundant flaws when you've got...

Puppies!!!!

See how simple that was. My readership just doubled. Immediately!

I'm mostly kidding (or jk for you texters), but I do recognize that the past year or so I've neglected to post many photos. Why? Primarily, I'm not a big photo taker. I save that for the Asians (and Mom). I'm one of those people that like to 'live in the moment' and think that 'pausing for the kodak' is akin to 'killing the vibe'. I also have this unhealthy obsession with my own thoughts (see present website dedicated to this). Egotistical? No doubt...but it's my bloggy and I'll blog if I want to. Blog if I want toooooo. Blog if I want tooooooo. You would blog too if youwereobsessedwithyourselftoooooo. dah dah dah dah dah dahhhhhhhh. I also procured a Mac recently and downloading photos from my camera is about as easy as inserting a square peg into a circle.

Ahhhhhhh. a visual. Because imaginations can be so elusive...

Anyway, onto the pressing issues of the day. And today was certainly an eventful one. A buddy of mine in the Men of Strength Club at AU had tickets to a special garden tour of the White House. He's an intern there, and I have a secret suspicion that he's sleeping with Michelle and using our club as a ploy to divert the fact that he's a 20 year-old womanizer. Remember, the reason I'm a feminist, is solely to score as many chicks as possible. At least that's what I was accused of by the friendly folks who commented on my last piece. Except the only real way I score chicks is by date rape, so they're waaayyyyy off.

Off topic again, dammit. It's like you're having a conversation with me. Stop distracting me, will ya?

So, I looaattttthhheeeee the White House, who occupies it, the security, the gushing tourists, even the design. That said, I was heading down to 'Occupy D.C.' (more on that in the next day or two) anyway, and so I decided to suck it up and check it out. Also, the fact that it was 'free' was an enticing offer, as the only thing I've been told that's free is Mother's love (and this blog). Two things you should never, ever take for granted :). Two things that are irreplaceable and invaluable.

I could detail the inner dialogue I had with myself during this endeavor. Talk about the revulsion elicited from the angry security guards. Talk about how we're herded like cattle into 'superfluous' roundabouts that do nothing but relegate you to helpless subservient casualties of the state. I could talk about the beauty of the impeccably manicured lawns and shrubs and the quandary of finding beauty within such an awful institution. I could divulge about how strange it felt to join a protest only moments later...but then again...we have.....

PICTURES!!!!!

Get ready...we're just gettin warmed up...

Before we began the self-guided tour, we saw some famous black people. I started snapping photos like a maniacal star-struck chid. Here's Jesse Jackson Jr.

Here he is looking at me like I'm a 'maniacal star-struck child'. Oh and that's Daddy behind him.

The Rev. Al Sharpton. He insulated himself from the gawking boobs (see me) and appeared quite irritated with having to wait outside the WH gates. Even famous people have to wait to see the Pres.

Self-guided tour begin, inside the WH gates...

Pretty big lawn. I asked the security guard if they grew any 'MJ'? He looked non-plussed and said not that he knew of. Lame.

The East wing. Also known as, "The nobody gives a shit wing."

Walkway from East Wing to White House. Those shrubs are actually undercover cops in camo.

What the Pres sees. Looking outward.

Found this chick out and about. Seemed pretty freaking hot so she took a pic with me :).

I shouted, "Can't wait for Mitt!"

Little known secret, the Jefferson Memorial faces the WH to 'watch it and keep an eye on the abuse of federal power.' Doing an awful job that Jefferson dude.

My buddy Stephen who supplied the tickets. What do you think...sleeping with Michelle, yay or nay..????

Like the West Wing. Like OMG. I've like, seen this on TV and stuff.

Where most of Obama's work is done. WH putting green.

Another shot of the West Wing. That indirect path is symbolic...of government bureaucracy...

Phallic symbols!!! C'mon I don't have a dirty mind here. Clearly this was intentional...

This was right beside a picture of John Boehner. Or Michelle. Can't remember anymore.

I've been hard on Michelle (kinda like my buddy Stephen) but I'm actually a big fan. Here's her garden. Tomato plants, eggplant, cucumber, and other non-carnivorous items.

I actually mentioned. "I bet this is where they bury the dead interns." And some guy goes, UGH. And I said, you're right, stupid me, that's reserved for the Potomac.

The coveted ticket.

(not) Hearing Voices

2011-10-12T12:33:00.002-04:00

This summer, when my Pops, brother, and I were traveling in Asia, he would duck off for 15 minutes at a time and no one knew where he went. I, of course, thought he went to go number 2, or smoke a joint. Or maybe both. Either way, I didn't care much as we all need our alone time. Especially with the former.

One day though, during his 15 minutes of autonomy, I needed him for something. Probably to buy me lunch or pluck stray back hairs, I can't quite remember (what...it's brotherly love). Anyway, I find him inside an Internet cafe in Thailand with headphones on. He didn't see me approach - so I spooked him and he was startled.

"Just listen to this shit," he said and put the headphones on my ears.

It was weeeeiiiirrrrrdddddddd. Not that he put headphones on my head, that part was completely normal. But the sounds were trippy.

"It's dubstep," he said.

It's a variation of techno. It's like the Metallica of tecnho. Pretty hardcore at times and if you're not under the age of say...30 you'll probably hate it. It's corrupting the minds of the youth!!! It's destroying our very moral fabric! How is this country going to continue to bomb innocent civilians across the world in the decades to come with this trash manipulating the ears of our children!!!!

Don't worry. We'll find a way to ratchet up the drones strikes. We're still American after all.

Didn't they say the same thing about Elvis? And look at where we are today...

corrupted, just as they said we'd beeeeee...

ahhhhhhh. forget it. I digress.

Anyway, I realize lately how annoying voices are to me. One of the appealing features of dubstep is that there aren't any. No whiny singers. Anyone who knows me (or has driven with me), knows that I mock most of the songs I hear on the radio. Even the good ones. They become awful after awhile because they get overplayed and if not, well I shall make it my mission to make them awful. Take Adele for example...

So yesterday during my ride I put on Levels by Avicii (techno not dubstep) and just cranked on my bike. And for some brief moments, I was floating atop white sand beaches in Cancun. As the cold wind and darkness hovered over the streets, I was able to be in a completely alternative universe. Pedalling downhill in tranquil suburbia I literally felt like an avatar as what I was seeing wasn't the road in front of me, but a brown dock and turquoise water.

So by not hearing things, I am seeing things. Kinda strange how that works, right?

Definitely couldn't have done that with "Moves like Jagger." I really gotta back off the PK's...

Last Week's Workouts

2011-10-10T17:17:00.000-04:00

Had a tough one today. Well, shouldn't have been, but I think my legs are just exhausted. Been a lot of biking lately and a lot less time in the pool. Interesting factoid- a young black man was running on the treadmill next to mine and he was fairly chunky. He revved up the speed to 7.5mph which is about as fast as anyone else can go in there except for me. And he held it. I was astonished. I thought for sure he'd be a goner within a quarter mile but he did a mile and a half.

Anyway, as he's finishing, I was finishing too and he says, "Man...that was awesome. One day I'm gonna get like you." So I said, "You're gonna be white???" Na, didn't really say that. I was flattered and said thanks and that I'm sure he'll get there. I told him he was pushing me to keep going. And he said, "B.S. man, you were keeping me going." Anyway, kind of cool for strangers to motivate each other.

Then he mugged me. Kidding. God, what a racist thing to say. Fine. Then I mugged him. Who says racist jokes aren't funny???

Monday: 30 minute lift. 10k run in 40:10.

Tuesday: 23 mile hill ride bike ride. Hard effort.

Wednesday: 30 minute lift. Speed ladder workout. 1x1600, 1x1200, 1x800, 1x400. Then repeat going the opposite way. All under 6:00 min. per mile pace.

Thursday: 23 mile bike ride hard. Flats. 35 minute slow swim.

Friday: 9 mile run. 7:35 per mile pace. 20 minute stretch/abs.

Saturday: 5k in 18:10. Very hard for me. Swim 5x200yards. 5x100 yards. 500 yard cool down.

Sunday: 50 mile bike ride. Medium effort.

Race Pics!!!

2011-10-06T16:28:00.001-04:00

Below are some pics from the race on Sunday. Remember you can click on the photo to enlarge it. Not like you'd want to or anything.

Ain't as nice as it looks. Water was choppy and it was in the mid 50's.

Bikes...lots of 'em. Transition Area.

And well...finally I arrive after the swim. Pretty pissed. Woman to my right looks disappointed (can you blame her). Photogapher dude is just like, "Eh, this guy..he uh, he too slow...no deserve for photo."

Moments earlier..last second sighting. Gotta zoom in on that facial expression.

Transitioning from swim to bike. Lots of bikes around always is a good sign (means you're ahead).

Finding your bike....not as easy as you'd think.

They made us run up this huge hill before 'mounting'. See that tree to the right? Almost nailed it trying to get up. In case you missed it - that was 'nailed it', 'get up' and 'mounting' all in one. See how sexual triathlons are???

Starting the run up that same hill. Looks a bit more like a speed-walk at this point.

Shit. Wanted to say looking better here, but clearly that's not the case. This is what Conor likes to call Downward Running. Run home young man, run toward your maker ;). Guy on cell phone (to my right) is non-plussed. Hopefully he's ordering more post-race pizza.

Nevermind. Dude on cell phone doesn't give a shit. Here you see a little smirk. Probably because I see a biker coming in to my right. ha. Slow poke.

Out of the woods onto lap number 2. People were cheering madly evidently.

The World

2011-10-06T13:09:00.002-04:00

Can you believe we're already into October? Soon enough itt'l be Thanksgiving and I will be graciously accepting all your generous donations to keep this 'free' blog sustainable. Right...? Cuz otherwise, I'm gonna go all Bank of America on your ass and start charging $10 a month. Man, the nerve of these guys.

Don't know about you, but I'm moving my money away from that wolfpack. Going to invest it all in U.S. Treasury notes, I hear those are really 'hot' right now, the yield is inching upwards of .01%. In other words, about the speed of traffic on D.C. freeways or the amount of time it takes to read the word - at.

Another thing to mourn is the passing of innovator Steve Jobs. It's all anyone's talking about. My roommate first broke the news to me as she was perusing Faceballs.

Her: OMG, Steve Jobs is dead. I can't believe it.
Me: Wow, really?
Her: (long pause) Ya, so I think I'm gonna work for Obama's campaign.
Me: WOW, REALLY?!?!
Her: Ya. Oh my God. Steve Jobs. This is so crazy.
Me: You're gonna work for OBAMA!?!?
Her: I have to text Mark (her boyfriend). He can't just die. So sad.
Me: Obama? Like, the President?
Her: He can't just die like that. He's too young.
Me: You're not serious about Obama....are you???
Her: He was soooo talented. Seriously you have no idea.
Me: I have a damn iPhone! But wait a minute here (begin lecture on the awfulness of Obama).

(completely tuned out...)

I was a recipient of two tidbits of bad news last night.

At least she didn't say Rick Perry. If that were to happen I would've made up a cot for her outside :). Out of jagged rocks.

Thankfully, the resurgent Arizona Diamondbacks put a beatdown on the Milwaukee Brewers in Phoenix last night. This is nothing new to me as I've been blogging about this team for months (awkward pause as I scramble to find any archived posts that mention baseball and/or the D-backs - drat! no luck).

Whatever, I'm on board now! And that's more than I can say for the potential NBA season (something I actually do care about). The powers that be are collaborating like oil and water. The season is in legitimate jeopardy of cancellation, and instead people are focused on Jobs (in Congress and the inventor dude). This is much too like MacGruber, or asking about how the car is doing after someone's been in an horrific accident.

Focus people! We got a season to save.

If I don't have my basketball for the year, I'm missing an irreplacable outlet and I may just fulminate and turn into...one of the angry men that commented on my latest column! Beware! Misogyny lurks behind the mask of David Stern...it's bad enough poor people don't have jobs. Now the rich aren't gonna have 'em either??

Screw the cold. I'm moving to Canada.

Column Link

2011-10-04T10:00:00.000-04:00

Below is my latest column for The Eagle. It mirrors a workshop we did in our Men Of Strength Club meeting at school last week. Enjoy and comment if you feel so inclined...

http://www.theeagleonline.com/opinion/story/theres-no-debate-rape-is-a-mens-issue/

Giant Acorn Triathlon Recap

2011-10-03T12:00:00.000-04:00

Bienvenidos to installment number four in Conor's triathlon series. This triathlon, brought to you courtesy of Nuclear Power - where earthquakes may prove leaky - but never to the point of race cancellation. The show must go on! It's not like this is tennis...

' is that a spec of dust I see,?? what am I an animal!?'

Yes, Saturday morning I made the trek down to Bumpass, Virginia to participate in my 2nd International/Olympic distance triathlon. We were told the nuclear plant had been shut down due to the recent earthquake and 'not to worry 'bout it.' Of course, this news to the kid who grew up practically obsessed with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (remember Mom and Dad?) wasn't alarming. Instead of worrying about all that could potentially go wrong with an unwanted encounter with neon green ooze nuclear waste (it is neon green like the Simpsons intro, right?) I think of how dope it'd be if you swallowed some. Maybe I'd grow taller. Maybe I would grow wings. Maybe my co@# would get bigger. Okay, okay, that was inappropriate for a triathlon post. But one can hope, no? Maybe it is appropriate because grown men are parading around in green speedos. Don't click that, it isn't pretty.

I arrived at the race venue and was stuck in gridlock traffic. Not only was I annoyed at the lack of progress, I was further taunted by the $45,000 bike (conservative estimation) and gear the person dangled off the back of the $10,000 car in front of me. They had an elegant bike rack, fancy rims, aero bars, aero water bottle, carbon frame, etc. I have a Ron Paul sticker on the back of my car. What do you say to that, punk?

Finally got out of the car and maneuvered my way to packet pick-up. Packet pick-up is a euphemism for 'killing the vibe.' Might as well call it "Fetching the condom moment" where excitement of the race/foreplay quickly dissipates as you realize that 'fucking annoying things' are about to take place.

Fast forward to the start of the swim. It was a cold morning (low 50's and overcast). The water, probably due to the green ooze spillage, was surprisingly warm (74 degrees) and I decided to wear my tri-suit with my surfer-dude white top over it. Not like I had any other option. Everyone else had wetsuits. I'm usually one of the top swimmers, so I treaded my way to the front, hoping my past successes would bolster my recognizance amongst the group like I was some kind of B-list celebrity.

Not so much. I did however get a, "What the fuck are you wearing, dude?" comment. And a cold shoulder when I tried to sneak to the front line.

My age group is such a classy bunch :). After jockeying for position, we were off.

About 400 meters later of clawing, elbowing and kicking, I was still not in the lead pack. WTF, I yelled underwater. These guys are killing themselves out here. We made the first turn and entered a long straightaway. My wave was the first released (29 and under) and later I found out that this race was actually a regional Collegiate championship....ahhhhhh....that's why these guys are so damn fast.

I didn't know this at the time, though. And started to swim even faster to catch up.

The second turn buoy brings you back toward transition and after I made the turn I made the mistake of not sighting (looking for where you're supposed to go). I veered waaaayyy off course. I semi-panicked when I realized I was on the opposite side of a 'save-me-I'm-dying-kayaker-dude.' Dammit!I spent about ten seconds frantically trying to find shore, but the sun was rising and I couldn't see the yellow-wiggly man...that looks sorta like this..

I know what you're thinking. How the fuck do you miss that? That's like not seeing the empire state building. But in the sun and swimming with a current, it's possible.

Speaking of, the current/waves were ridiculous. The wind picked up during our swim and I was knocked around viciously and swallowed a bunch of water (or what passes for water in a nuclear waste zone). It was practically a tropical storm out there (okay, I'm lying). But it felt much more like a river than a lake I can tell you that.

Finally made my way to transition and was literally dizzy as I bent to put on my shoes. I fell backward as I retained that rocking motion in my head from swimming in circles for 25 minutes. That cost me some time. Luckily, I got situated and ran up the hill to mount my bike.

This was my first race in the new racing shoes, and clicking into them is about as tricky as having sex with a Jonas brother. I hopped on my bike and swerved hard right because my foot missed the pedal. After 10 seconds of awkward footsy and hardly staying balanced, I got my foot in and started pedalling. If a cop had been present he would've questioned me for drinking.

5 miles in I was pouting. I'm serious, I was throwing a pity party right on my saddle. I knew I didn't have a good swim. Swimming has been my strength, so basically this race is down the tubes I thought. Around this point I passed my buddy Doran. He said something supportive that I couldn't make out, and at that point I gave myself a pep talk.

Dude. You paid like $125 for this. Imagine how many people would love to do this race but can't. Enjoy it. Get moving. This race is far from over.

As I said this a group of three college kids went zooming by me. Sigh. Repeat pep talk. I didn't expect Doran to be ahead of me, so it came as kind of a surprise to see him. If I knew what I know now, we would've just drafted off each other because that's what the rest of the field was doing.

My thighs were burning by the end, and I was happy to get off the bike. I ate four Honey Stinger jelly things during the bike and drank most of my Gatorade. I entered transition, slapped on my running shoes, took one last swig of gatorade and took off.

At this point I had to pee. Bad. So bad that I faced one of two options. A: Just go. Sidenote: this sounds weird but in triathlons, people literally go in their pants, er, uh, spandex. Yes it is gross. And also rather mundane. B: run to a port-a-john.

I kept going. Worst that could happen is I default into option A. Eh, I've done worse. Like that one time...oh nevermind.

The run somehow felt great. The weather had cooled down some and the sun was no longer peeping through (an advantage for running). The course was two out and backs on some slightly rolling hills. While many people were on the course, only one or two passed me. And I only passed one or two guys. It was at this point that I knew I was in a college course as I saw the jerseys that read - Duke, Virginia Tech, Virginia, Georgetown, UNC, Maryland, etc. Ahhhhh....now I get it.

My lungs felt fine. My legs were a bit tired but I didn't struggle too much. I managed to pick it up the last .2 miles and as I crossed the finish line I was preemptively pissed. Tons of peeps passed me on the bike. I didn't have a good swim. And as well as I ran, I didn't pass anyone. Doran finished about a minute after me and I was hoping to beat him by a few minutes.

Final time was: 2:15:52. Good enough for 51st out of 454 men. Something like 850 total participants competed, I believe one woman beat me.

I was upset. I felt like I could have performed much better, although my time wasn't that awful. After the race Doran and I decried all the drafters and checked the times. He thought we may win some age group awards. I doubted it. He confirmed and said we had. I was stoked and that lifted my spirits.

A few minutes later, we asked two officials if the college kids get their own category (thereby enabling our wins) or were they lumped in the age-group categories. Both officials said they don't get their own. So I took off. Doran calls me as I'm exiting the parking lot saying the announcer just called my name. Where are you, man?

Well. That. Pisses. Me. Off. He snatched my award for me and he was also a happy recipient. Here's what the awards were..

Nope, not the car keys (drat). Those two engraved rocks. Pretty cool, huh? Wonder if I can snort them. Kinda looks like a pregnant chipmunk doesn't it...

Here are the Age Group Results.

Overall a fun race. I'm debating whether to sneak in one more race this season or whether it's time to pack up the tri stuff, do some running races and train for season 2. We'll see.

Last Week's Workouts

2011-10-03T10:23:00.001-04:00

Before I post a recap I want to get this up.

Monday: 20 minute lift. 9 mile run in 1 hour.

Tuesday: Bike hill ride. 23 miles hard.

Wednesday: 10km run in 40:17. 25 minute swim.

Thursday: 1 hour stationary bike. Average 25mph. 1500 yard swim.

Friday: 20 minute lift. 2 mile run at 6:30 pace.

Saturday: Giant Acorn Int'l Triathlon...post coming.

Sunday: 9 mile recovery run (7:40 pace).

Big Nut (Giant Acorn Triathlon)

2011-09-30T14:00:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow morning is my last triathlon of the season. It's down in Bumpass, VA (you pass a lot of bums on the way). I've never been, but apparently it's an ideal venue to host triathlons because its situated by a nuclear plant. In fact, the water from the lake is man-made, created solely to cool down the plant. So as a race organizer you know you gotta think like..shit, bingo. This is the spot. I know that everything gives you cancer, but maybe you increase your risk a smidge when you swim near a nuclear power plant. Just saying. Gotta be tough for this sport, I tell ya.
In any case, tomorrow the weather is expected to drop from its consistent 70's all week to 50's. 20 degree difference between this week's temperatures and tomorrow. In other words...fucking cold. I also don't have a wetsuit, so unless I steal (I mean buy) one in the next 12 hours, I'm SOL. That's right, I'm changing my name to Sol. Hopefully someone is negligent race morning, and leaves theirs out unattended. That'd be awkward. To wear it and run into him in the water or post-race...heyyyyyy there....

I caught a bit of a cold while in Colorado, but am mostly recovered now. I had some great workouts this week, so if all goes well (no flats, falls, frostbite) I should be in for a good race. I'm trying to put more emphasis on the bike lately, so I don't expect my swim and run to be as strong as before. Strong is relative remember.

Anyway, easy night tonight, maybe a small pizza for dinner and a salad. Then off to bed early for the 3-hour drive tomorrow. Good thing it starts at 10 and not 7....

Missile-Any-Us

2011-09-29T11:18:00.000-04:00

I didn't know how to spell the actual word (miscellaneous?), and spell check doesn't work on Blogger titles, so I just got creative. It's also the motto of Leon Panetta FYI...

Anyway, yesterday I had class and we participated in an exercise called Red/Blue. Has nothing to do with Democrats or Republicans (or Shawshank). Basically the set-up is as follows: The class is split in half randomly and each team is separated from the other sans communication (one group leaves the room). There are 6 rounds of play. Each round, both teams are required to pick one color - Red or Blue. The color is usually determined by a vote of consensus (but the method doesn't necessarily have to be democratic). The object of the game we were told, was to accrue as many points/money as possible.

Here's how it works: If Team 1 selects Blue and Team 2 select Blue, each team receives +3 points. If team 1 selects Red and Team 2 selects Blue, Team 1 gets +5 and Team 2 gets -5. If Team 1 selects Blue and Team 2 selects Red then Team 1 gets -5 and Team 2 gets +5. If both teams select Red, then both lose 3 points.

Maybe you're having a hard time following the above format (for those morons at home playing along - I'm kidding I think it's confusing too - :)) so try this. BL/BL = Both Win minorly. BL/RD = One Team 'screws' the other - one team wins majorly and one team loses majorly. RD/RD = Both Lose Minorly.

Actually a pretty simple game (for us intellectual graduate students).

My team had 3 men and 6 women from a variety of backgrounds. The other team had 8 women and 1 man.

Here's a play-by-play of how it went down:

ROUND ONE: Everyone in our group recognizes that by cooperating with the other team, we can both earn many points. The dissent - me. I say we go Red right off the back. Strike blood first. If they pick Blue (and we pick Red), we get +5, they get -5, game over for them before it even got going. Then we go red the rest of the way and even though we lose points each round, we beat the other team. Also insulates us from major losses if they pick Red too. My argument didn't hold water, especially after I loudly conceded, "They're for sure going blue, it's a bunch of women down there." Points for first (vocal) sexist comment of day. Our Vote: 8-1 Blue. Their Vote: Blue Score: 3-3

ROUND TWO: Basically things stay the same. I make an impassioned speech about how we aren't maximizing our net worth unless we go Red (kinda like Gordon Gekko). They believe it's best to play along, after all, they haven't 'screwed us' yet. Vote: 8-1 Blue. Their Vote: Blue Score: 6-6

ROUND THREE: This round, one guy who had been watching my animated pleas joins my side and sees that we can gain more (+5) by going Red than by Blue (+3). Not sure why it took him three rounds to recognize this, but this isn't Princeton, you know. Our Vote: 7-2 Blue. Their vote: Blue. Score: 9-9

ROUND FOUR: This round the professor gave us the option to negotiate. One member from each group would be sent to a private location to 'hash things out'. It was obvious to me what was gonna happen. Both groups select their most honest looking person (first thing one girl says in my group is, "not the dude in the green shirt". That would be me :). To which I respond, "Oh, c'mon, they need a bullshitter and I can lie with the best of 'em!" Didn't make any new friends yesterday...

We (by we I mean everyone but me who nominated myself) selected the French dude in a 3-piece suit (monsieur) and the other team selected a 35 year old mother. As our representative left, I pleaded with my team to put up the facade of Blue, while surreptitiously going Red. That's what they were gonna do. This is the time to strike. I was certain the other team was doing the same thing. We. Have. To. Go. Red. Or we lose. It's that simple. At this point, my ebullience was wearing down a few of the women, some of them begrudgingly agreed.

We took a vote: 5-4...Blue. Dammit! I was pissed. Until we heard their vote...Blue. Score 12-12.

We were still in the clear. Neither team had struck. Both were kindly playing along (aren't liberal people just the sweetest?).

ROUND FIVE: Okay. This was my Rudy Speech. This was my Obama in Germany speech. This was my I have a Dream...that someday, we will vote to screw the other team speech.

I thought that the wise team at this point has to strike now (of course my credibility here wasn't that strong since the same thing verbatim had been said 20 minutes earlier). Nevertheless, now it has to happen. The logical thing to do would be to wait until the final (next) round (to pick Red) and then screw the other team. But, that's what they had to be thinking too, right? So we need to be one step ahead of them and get them before they get us. We had already accrued enough money to cover any losses anyway. Worse case both teams pick red and we tie and both end up ahead anyway. If we were smart we could not be beaten.

I made variations of this speech, while pausing intermittently to allow other people to speak (breathe). Surprisingly, practically everyone except "Frenchy" was on board. Well. Screw him. He tried his best to influence us to remain kind and acquiescent (grabbing my shoulders and saying - You're listening to THIS GUY!), but this time I prevailed. Our vote 8-1 Red. Their Vote......................................

Blue! Score: 17-7

We did it! We struck first. I was jubilant! We could not lose now. Impossible. Some in my group felt guilty. I tried to allay this with the thoughts of...well...victory!!!! C'mon people, we should be celebrating. Instead it was like going on the Price is Right and winning a hot dog cart. Ummmm....awesome Barker. Thanks.

ROUND SIX: We knew they would vote Red to enact revenge on us. In fact, their decision was made almost immediately as their rep waited impatiently to write it on the board. For some maniacal reason, "French Toast" implored us to vote Blue. Give back the points he proclaimed. Do the right thing he added. We both tie and we both win this way he declared.

Snore.

What was the point of striking at all then, I volunteered. No, we vote red, they vote red, we win, they lose, we both finish with positive points. Shockingly, this actually went back and forth for a few minutes before we took a vote.

Our vote: 6-3 Red. Their Vote: Blue!!! Score: 22-2

WHAT!!!! Are they kidding themselves?!! Basically we just whooped them, then they came back for seconds.

The other team came back to the room, and my endorphins were high. I made a snide comment about how the basement must've affected their brainwaves (assuming they had some to begin with). I felt like I just won a basketball game without breaking a sweat. Others on my team were surprisingly contrite, apologizing for 'screwing them' and deflecting responsibility to, "Dude in green shirt." "He was persistent," they said. "He wore us down," they sighed. Fingers were pointed in my direction from everywhere.

Ohhhhhhh. Come on people. This is our moment of victory. Our moment to revel and bask in the humiliation of the moronic team two. This is our champagne shower!

Afterward, our professor and the class thoroughly discussed this game from all angles and vantage points. I was certainly a focal point due to my overbearing presence in the process (and I would say largely responsible for our win).

So why'd the other team go Blue the last round? That was the elephant in the room. Why not get back at us for 'screwing' them?

Righteousness. Morality. Ethics. Doing the right thing. Cooperation. These were all some of the explanations given by the women in the group. Oh how I love my program. These are the types of folks I go to school with.

During break, a girl on my team (who adamantly disagreed with me for most of the game) told me she heard I worked at DoD. Yep, I replied. She said, "Ohhh...makes sense then. I work at State (Department of)." And she walked away smiling. Ahhh, the smugness of it all!

Final Thoughts: To me, life can be rather bland and boring. I always look to find ways to spice it up. I have vices that I admittedly shouldn't (maybe explored in a memoir someday). Sometimes I don an alternate person, almost a split personality. I'm a pacifist, and I'm talking about striking first. I'm a nice guy and I'm a huge trash talker. I'm an active feminist and laugh at Family Guy and make crude comments. This isn't the DoD altering my perspectives. This is an intentional roleplay for entertainment. It gets my heart rate pumping and I get a rush from it. It's rather ironic of course, to anyone who knows how I really feel. Anyone who knows me as a peaceful, feminist, non-agressive laid back SW boy. That's all true and who I am. But I also have another element in the equation that I use in circumstances to confuse people and sometimes even myself. What's 'true' if you're always playing? It's a cognitive dissonance (like my job), one that I haven't fully reconciled and therefore I continue to work it out in my head by working it out as theater in real life.....

New Job

2011-09-27T12:38:00.000-04:00

You know you're getting old when phrases like, 'full benefits' mean something and elicit the same excitement that the word 'kegger' used to. Yep, that's me. Welcome to adulthood (ya, it took awhile). Yesterday I started my new job at the Mark Center, a massive building that's an annex of the Pentagon located in Alexandria, Virginia. It can host up to 6,500 people I believe, but it's actually rather desolate because most agencies haven't yet transitioned (more parking for me!). The building is brand-new and offers all the high tech gizmo accessories you can expect from the military (it's alternative function is a warhead that can detonate on command...so I hear). I would tell you what those things are, but of course then I'd have to kill you. Suffice to say, this building is secure as The Queen's job status. As secure as straight jacket, and the one they mandate you don when you enter the building really isn't as bad as everyone says it would be.

My cubicle overlooks a swath of green trees and a few neighboring buildings where I'm convinced people are spying on me. It's actually a really pleasant view and I'll post some photos in the near future so you can see what I see. You'll never really see what I see, because that would entail looking at the world and seeing deranged vampires harassing pedestrians while doing cartwheels. That's the kind of routine stuff I imagine when I sit idly at my desk and look out the green abyss outside my safe haven of a building. Gotta be protected from those things, ya know. Hence all the generous security. Remember...see something...say something.

Nevertheless, things are going smoothly thus far. It's easy to see why the bureacratic life can silently and subtly distract you from grander pastures as the alluring benefit packages are envious and many. Somehow I already have a savings plan with a couple hundred bucks in it. Ca-ching. Too bad I can't access it, I have some more tri gear to buy :).

I'm increasing my activism in my feminism club this semester. We had a disappointing showing yesterday, so I sent an email out to our group threatening to dismember them if they keep skipping the meetings. Hopefully the message gets through. Remember, people respond obediently under fear. Oh the lessons you will learn in life....

Last Week's Workouts

2011-09-25T20:49:00.001-04:00

Monday: Day off...traveling back to D.C.

Tuesday: 30 minute lift. 3-mile run @6:50 pace. Tuesday night hill ride w/ group. 23 miles. All out effort.

Wednesday: 30 minute lift. Yasso 800's. 10x800 meters at 3:00 pace.

Thursday: Swim. 1600m, 800m, 400m, 200m, 100m, 2x50m.

Friday: 6.2 mile run. 4 miles at 26:40. 2 miles at 13:10

Saturday: Brick workout. 30 minute stationary bike (24 mph average). 15 minute run. 20 minute stationary bike (22.5 mph average). 10 minute run. Plus rock climbing later in the afternoon.

Sunday: Swim. 400m warm up. 13x100m. 5x200m.

Colorado Trip Part 2

2011-09-25T20:42:00.000-04:00

The football game, as I mentioned was loonngggg. I'm not super into football, I'd rather scope out the brunette cheerleaders and predict/instigate upcoming fights in the stands. CU ultimately prevailed and the drunken chants sung by the sea of yellow t-shirts could be heard for miles outside the stadium. One funny scene is when Ralphie, the real buffalo mascot of CU was released and powered his way onto the field. He was then followed by CSU's mascot. A ram that looked like an emaciated goat. CU Wins big time in that department. We encountered some maddening traffic on the way back to town, which threw a wrench in our plans to go for a hike. Instead, we played some more tennis (a couple hours later), with Dylan trouncing me unapologetically. Pops and Mom were spectators and I was impressed with my brother's play. I was more impressed that we was able to do it with the pressure of them watching...well done DylDawg.

The next day was my b-day and the day of cycling. I had to get at least one ride in when in Boulder as most of the top cyclists and triathletes in the world live and train in the city. No secret why...it's where the best blood transfusions and doping go down. Na, I think it's the altitude combined with the scenery and bike-friendly roads that make for exceptional rides. Or maybe it's the marijuana? My brother, Pops and I spent the morning shuffling around the bike shop waiting for them to prep our bikes. Finally, around noon, we hopped on and departed for a 25 mile ride.

I crushed it.

I'm starting to focus on the bike (especially this winter break) so I knew I would be better than I was during the trip through Asia. Thankfully, I was unaffected by the altitude and rode a great bike that rode as smooth as fresh tar. Pops performed very well too for an old guy ;). Dylan...well...he struggled, but props to him for not complaining and for making it to the top. The ride out was a fairly steep ascent that didn't relent for miles. The way back was a nice gradual descent followed by some good flat pulling on the highway. Was really an excellent day for riding, high 60's with a breeze and bright as could be.

We met up with my Mom (who wasn't all too happy being left alone for 3.5 hours..sorry MOM!) who was starving and we all concurred. Dylan took us to the Mexican restaurant where he works. And. The. Food. Was. Awful. It's too bad, it's at a great location and the ambience is pleasant, but I expected better from the SW (especially when contrasted with D.C.) I was a gleeful recipient of a sopapilla however, so (as anything with sugar) that made me smile.

We played some more tennis later that night and I got some redemption over my sibling. He was likely fatigued from the ride and I had a strategy to move him around as much as possible to tire him out. Maybe he just let me win cuz it was my b-day. Whatever. I still WIN!!! And Mom and Pops came again and not only did they watch they fetched balls for us. Pampered we were!

The next day was....hell. I woke up early to get on the Super Shuttle to the airport and sat next to Dumb and Dumber on the way up argue about lip gloss efficacy. An hour and a half later I'm through security and doing sit-ups by my gate (ya....everyone else thinks it's weird too...but would you expect anything less from me?). Suddenly, 30 people get in line at the gate. Hmmm. That's too many for stand-by. Wonder what gives. I walk over and ask a fellow passenger and he shrugged. I meandered toward the front and was told the flight was cancelled.

CANCELLED! What! It's a gorgeous day outside! And I can see the plane!

Cancelled I was told. And no further explanation was given. Argh. Got in line and called the airline to get rerouted. Waited for a half hour before I finally got through to a person who then put me on hold for another 25 minutes to process my new flight. It sucked. Bad. What seemed like hours later, I booked a different flight flying into Baltimore (yuck) that left at 6PM. It was noon. Thankfully, my folks were coming to the airport to catch their flight so I hung out with them for an hour or so.

Going back through security, I declined the 'voluntary' option of the invasive scanner, in favor of the regular metal detector. That was a mistake. They made me wait for nearly 5 minutes until someone groped me so obtrusively that they know my balls better than I do. They also confiscated my bug spray and sunblock (both of which made it through just hours earlier). To explain my frustration with TSA and DHS would be akin to the myth of Sisyphus. Perhaps worse. Maybe for a later post. Oh, government and how pathetically inept you are.

In any case, I could go into ridiculous detail about just how shitty things got, but I won't. It's over with. My flight got in around midnight (after an hour delay) and the Super Shuttle put me at my door at 2:30AM. Nearly 24 hours traveling for a flight that should've taken 4 hours.

Initially I though it would tarnish my excellent trip visiting my fam, but if I had to relive that god-awful day and do it all over, I would. No question. And gotta say...I adore Boulder.

Column Link

2011-09-21T15:03:00.003-04:00

Here is my latest column for the Eagle published yesterday...will continue to finish up yesterday's post either tonight or tomorrow...stay tuned.

http://www.theeagleonline.com/opinion/story/handling-lifes-hardships-with-the-help-of-friends/

Colorado Trip

2011-09-20T16:51:00.000-04:00

Yes, I am alive. I took a hiatus from posting and I must say I missed it dearly (almost as much as Bachelor Pad). Let me recap what went down the last few days to catch you up on my self-importance.

Thursday: I intentionally planned my flight for later in the day so I could get in a good workout before my flight to Denver. I was able to get in a great swim, so I felt refreshed and relaxed for the trip. I also had first class seats (first time ever) and was pretty stoked about that. The flight was glorious, I was pampered like a celebrity. They served delectable food, hot towels, unlimited drinks and snacks and I had enough space to lounge. I mostly read Chuck Palahniuk's book, "Rant." Definitely a good book for someone like me, but if you're not into nihilistic, dark humor with a morbid theme, I'd probably stay away from it. But I gotta tell ya, the guy is an incredible author and a genius.

Dylan picked up my folks who flew in earlier that night and we drove up to Boulder!!! We ate a small meal at a local Mediterranean food shop called Garbanzo's and then we went to bed, ready to take on the day, Friday.

Friday: I stayed in the same room as my Mom and Pops, and we had to wait for Dylan to finish his class. We decided to walk around the campus and exercise at the recreation center. For some reason, for many families this may seem like an odd choice, but for ours it's so natural it's practically mundane. Wake up, so....when we going to work out? That seems to be in the blood of all of my family (even on vacations), even my brother to a lesser extent. So we walked around the sprawled campus of Boulder and I was amazed and inspired by the number of bicycles. Hundreds and hundreds of bikes were locked near buildings and students were flying by us left and right jetting to class. The buildings are a consistent shade of orange-red brick and the campus is full of grass and trees. The campus is gorgeous and very well manicured. The walkways accomodate skateboards, bikes, rollerblades, etc. There'd no don't taze me bro cops either.

After much meandering and solicitation of students for directions, we stumbled upon the gym. Although the gym was fairly large, I was mostly disappointed with the antiquated equipment and lack of machinery. For a school of over 30,000 it needs to be remodeled, but then again, this is Boulder and a majority of these kids do their exercising outdoors. I ran a 10k pretty fast and biked for 20 minutes after with my Pops. Surprisingly, I had no trouble acclimating to the altitude. It's probably because I get high so much in D.C. High on life.

Dylan finished class and took us to Half Fast Subs, a local eatery bursting with college kids. The place has got a bajillion different sandwiches and us menfolk all ordered 14 inch subs. As big as our appetites were, none of us could finish, so we took the rest back to the hotel. We walked around Pearl Street (a popular area) for an hour and I noticed that Seth Myers from SNL was in town for a comedy show. Sweet. I asked my folks if we could get tickets if they were available and they said "Who the hell is Seth Myers." Followed by "Sure." We tried to procure the tickets at a local music shop but were discouraged by the hippyish vendor when he told us to wait until tonight and they'll be cheaper. I said we'd prefer to just get them now and not have to worry about them selling out but he was obstinate and practically refused to sell them. "Dude....just buy them at the door." Me: Dude, can't I just get them now. Dude: "Duuuuudddddeeeee, honestly, no. Just wait." Welcome to Boulder.

Dylan and I and Pops then hit some tennis balls near a dormitory and then showered to get ready for dinner. We went to an elegant French restaurant that served excellent food and we met up with Dylan's friend Scott. Scott works at the French place and hooked us up with a substantial discount. Scott is a lovable lug, a 6 foot 5 thin, amicable guy. He's one of the nicest kids I've ever met and a close friend of Dylan's. Food was excellent and I was anxious because I didn't want to miss the show. Sure enough, dinner took longer than expected and by the time we walked through Spruce Street to score tickets, they were sold out. Stupid stoner dude ruined it for us.

Bummer.

Not to be totally let down, Dylan was throwing a house party that night and he and I played beer pong for a couple hours. We lost the first match to some scrawny, trash-talking sophomore and then demolished them the following game (take that punkass). I told the emaciated dude that we're gonna make shirts that say FEED LUKE. I'm serious. Shit is gonna catch on. By the next time I visit Boulder, everyone will be in on it. Kinda like VOTE FOR PEDRO. I flirted with a freshman (which is about as awkward as drinking beer with the Pope). She was 18. I did it mostly for humor's sake, but we had a fun time mingling about booze and Brooklyn and stupid boys. Then she got distracted and started fawning over some 21 year-old. Whatever, it was fun while it lasted :).

Saturday:

Went to bed and woke up the next morning early for the EPIC FOOTBALL GAME. Dylan and I went to the famous Moe's Broadway Bagel shop and then picked up Mom and Pops to drive to Denver. The game was Colorado State vs. UC-Boulder. People were still partying from the night before. Literally at 8AM, people were already hammered and ready to board the party busses. Was gonna be a loonnnggggg game.

To be Continued...

Updates

2011-09-14T12:13:00.000-04:00

Interesting morning tidbit: Was queuing to pay for parking this morning ($16 for a day-pass!!!!!) when a girl my age was visibly irritated, impatient at the Army boy in front of her who probably had a comparable IQ to the machine itself. He was on the telephone yapping, which makes everyone hate you that much more. She was vicariously stressing me as she paced from side to side so I decided to chat her up to distract her. She looked very fit, resembled an ex-girlfriend I dated named Kelly in undergrad.

I asked if she was a runner because I noted her Garmin watch. This was kind of a let-down observation....couldn't I have said calves??? It'd be like recognizing Tom Brady because of Gisele...oh well. She smiled and began telling me how she was a soccer player first and she ran track for AU last year. Now she's finishing up her graduate degree and runs for a local group called Pacer's. Very cool. She said she prefers the 1500m, a brutal race. I asked for her best time. 4:20. Hot damn. That's fast.

Immediately my mind scanned to a few days earlier when I was on the treadmill and saw a young man who looked familiar. I couldn't place him, so I shrugged it off. Later that day, I thought, "Man, that dude really looked like that guy I saw on TV last week in the World Championships of track."

So since this girl spawned my memory, I asked her if she knew the dude. "Oh, ya. You mean Matt. Ya, he trains here sometimes. His Dad is actually the head coach." I told her I thought I saw him a few days ago. "Probably, he's here all the time."

Very cool. For those who don't know track and field from arts and crafts, this guy is a WORLD CLASS runner. In fact, he is THE BEST AMERICAN distance runner in the 1500m. He's only 21 years old and placed 3rd at the world championships just a couple weeks ago. Unbelievable feat and a great race if you ever want to youtube it, click here. His name is Matthew Centrowitz. I keep wondering if he can keep pace with me, but watch the race and you be the judge. He did spot me on the treadmill and quickly walked away, so it must be he was intimidated by my shaved shins.

Anyway, it pays to befriend strangers sometimes despite what our parents always told us. The lies we are fed!

Couple updates: Thursday morning I depart for Colorado. Although I'm not going 'home'. I arrive in Denver and my parents are flying up from Durango. My brother is going to pick us up at the airport and take us to Boulder. It's my birthday weekend and I had a free ticket nearing its expiration date so I figured it'd be a fun trip. Also, appear to be flying first class for the first time in my life, so yay for me. May be drunk by the time I arrive at mile-high! Aren't drinks free in first class???

I've never been to Boulder, so I'm stoked to say the least. My brother is a junior at UC-Boulder and knows the ropes. I return to D.C. on Monday night and begin my new job Tuesday morning.

I'm continuing my employment with the Department of Defense. Yep, still hard to believe. I'm transitioning to a new division and so will be updating periodically about how killing people overseas is going (that was a joke...I think). Ideally, I'll be telecommuting, working from AU so I don't have to make the lengthy commute.

Other than that, my calves are still a bit tight from the half, but mostly it's dissipated. I had an excellent group bike ride, the Tuesday night hill ride last night. Stayed with the lead group the entire way and even did 2 extra loops because I felt so fresh. Fun, fun, and Pops and I and Dylan are going to rent bikes in Boulder for an afternoon. Time to show them who's boss in the Shapiro clan.

School is school. Class tonight and I gotta compose a column for next week now. Trying to stay active in clubs on campus and also increase my socialness this semester by meeting new people and going out (see getting wasted) more. We'll see how it all goes...until next time thanks for reading...

Parks Half Marathon Recap and Last Week's Workouts

2011-09-12T17:57:00.000-04:00

So yesterday was the big day. 13.1 miles. I set an ambitious goal (for me) of finishing sub 1:30:00. Of course, if I was going to shatter my previous PR (1:39:45), I probably should have put in just as much if not more training in as before. I probably trained less. That's not the whole story, as I have trained much harder in the bike/swim than ever before, but I've been running only 3-4 days per week instead of 5-6.

That said, I'm also approximately 20-25 pounds lighter than when I PR'd. Now my weight fluctuates daily between 173-179. Before it was between 195-202. There's a theory in running that for every pound of weight you lose, you're automatically 2 seconds faster per mile. There's another theory that says running is fu@#ing hard no matter which way you cut it. Anyway, that's pretty substantial when you're talking 20 pounds of lost weight. Fat or muscle (in my case, both).

The week prior was an awful week for me. I had a bout of food poisoning and my chronic back injury came roaring back into the picture. While my back slowly improved throughout the week, my bowels didn't. I ate a large bowl of pasta at lunch the day before the race. Then ate a couple slices of pizza before bed. Neither of which um...departed after I consumed a banana and some peanut butter on race morning. So I was running on a bloated tummy.

I went into the Port-a-John twice (cursing my stomach out loudly - peeps probably thought I was insane...probably accurate) without success and figured, oh well, what can I do? Not gonna puke. So just run with the belly.

My pace group was in the very front of the race (rare for me in running races). When the gun went off, about 150 or so of us began in the sub 7:00 group. The first couple miles I knew would be easy. You start off on a generous decline, so it's easy to get lured into going out too fast. The pace setter held himself back considerably to make sure we hit our pace (6:51) on time. I knew this because he said: "I'm holding myself back considerably here..." This was frustrating for me, and had I had a Garmin, I would've built myself a bit of a cushion and let my momentum take me down 10-15 seconds faster per mile for the first 3 miles. I would do this because I'm tall and as a bigger dude I can use my stride to my advantage and I get my ass kicked on the uphills anyway later on. But I restrained myself because the last thing I wanted to do was look like a showboat, and stride out and then tank at the 10-km mark.

Between miles 3.5-4.5 is the toughest part of the course. And surprisingly, where I got dropped. I intended to hang with the pace group as long as possible, but letting them pass on the hills was strategic for me. I didn't want to expend too much energy and pay for it later on in the course. So I let them take off, and figured I'd catch up on the descents coming later....well...didn't exactly go as planned.

The lead they amassed was too significant that by the 6 mile marker, I had lost sight of them altogether and they were about a minute ahead. Hmmm. Time to recalibrate. So at this point I wasn't feeling too well and I knew my pace had dropped off precipitously. Now, it was all about finishing and making sure I at least get a PR.

Around mile 8.5, an extremely fit woman and her pal passed me. That's at least what I think of any woman who passes me (it's a way to make myself feel good, WOW! look how fit that chick is!!) I hit a second wind here and stuck with them until mile 10. Here I read my split (1:10:30) and knew that unless I ran a sub 20 minute 5-k, my chances of breaking 1:30 were nonexistent. Yay for Middle School Math! Perhaps had the course finished on a nice descent (like, say an escalator) I had a shot. Instead, while the Parks Half Marathon is a sublime, beautiful, net downhill course, the last two miles are brutal. A steady ascent until you reach the finish line. My pace slowed further.

Sometime later on September 11th I strolled to the finish.

Final Time: 1:34:20. I was pretty pissed. I sat down dejected and exhausted at the end and my shoulder began aching excruciatingly. No idea why. It was a sharp, sharp pain in the back of my left shoulder and I couldn't raise my arm whatsoever. It wouldn't relent so I couldn't take my race chip off my shoelaces. I looked helpless and almost sobbed, until I realized the cute women next to me (who look shockingly at ease) were in bright spirits and I wanted to show I wasn't fatigued too. Literally 5 minutes later I finally popped my shoulder (something I do often) and the pain temporarily ceased. Whew. It still hurt an hour after the race and have no idea why (it may have to do with the obscene amount of push-ups I've been doing in place of weight training). Really don't know why, but today it's improved considerably.

My training log for last week:

Monday: 20 minute weight lift. 3-mile slow run. Swim - 11x200 yard @2:40 w/ :20 rest after each, 5x100 @1:15 w/:15 rest after each. 300 yard cool down.

Tuesday: 25 minute stationary bike (all out). 2000 yard swim.

Wednesday: Off. Injured

Thursday: 5-mile run @ 6:50 pace. Master's Swim workout.

Friday: 3-mile run and 50 minute stationary bike.

Saturday: Off (rest day)

Sunday: Half marathon

Hopey-Changey Speechy

2011-09-09T12:19:00.001-04:00

Gotta be honest, I didn't watch the President's speech last night. I've lost faith in him like I lost faith in the Tooth Fairy when I turned 15. Ya whatever...it took me awhile. Anyway, I was much more content yakking up all my food from a bout of food poisoning I sustained yesterday and feeling nauseous during my group swim. Definitely advise people who aren't feeling well to skip their scheduled swim. Otherwise you end up making a dash for the locker room in your Speedo and barreling over small children in the process and making a fool of yourself in front of the soccer team. Hopefully it's passed through my system today.

When I got home, I made myself some Mac N' Cheese, and luckily caught the last two sets of the Federer match. Here's a guy who I also have lost the faith in at one time or another, but always seems to be in the thick of things. Can't count him out, especially before the semifinals. His performance was dominant and I actually noted a flegling receding hairline he never used to have. Dude is aging, but his game is still splendid. Then I puked some more, but overall it was a good night. Took 3 Advil PM's and slept soundly.

I also wrecked my back doing something or another the other day and was limping pretty intensely Wednesday. I begrudgingly took off exercising because I have my half-marathon on Sunday and want to be healed in time to compete. Thankfully, yesterday it loosened up a bit and I engaged my abs through all my stomach tribulations. Maybe that's just what the doctor ordered to cure my ailment!

Back to President Hope-Change. As awful as this guy has been as President, and I mean utterly deplorable, he's still refreshing a night after listening to Rick Perry. Of all the warranted outrage directed at Obama, you'd think we can come up with better alternatives than Texas Idiot, Massachusettes phony, and Minnesota botox. I suppose if you count Ron Paul, yet he's got the charisma of a napping Sloth (just went to the zoo last weekend).

What's remarkable about all this, is that Hope-Change doesn't seem to understand the obvious. The Republicans see anything he does as blasphemous. If he appointed Rush Limbaugh to the Supreme Court, he'd face a backlash (with the GOP!!!). Apparently he talked about, "simple math" in his speech. Well, here is as simple as it gets Mr. President. The only way they win is if you lose. That's it. They can and must reject every single proposal you promulgate. Enabling your success does NOTHING for them. They want to beat you and will pull out all the steps to make your existence a living hell. Kind of like a conversation with a Scientologist (they're all over D.C....all citizens will suffer through one some time or another).

Of course this says more about the two-party system than it does about the current batch of morons controlling the U.S. House. This is why registering as a Republican or Democrat is problematic and continues this cyclical partisan split that gridlocks D.C. Only until people stop voting, or vote third-party, and stop registering as blue or red, will we actually witness legitimate cooperation.

It's all much to dwell about nothing. I've lost interest in politics lately. Whether we elect Hope-Change or Batshit-Looney Tunes, the results will be more of the same. As my Pops and I spoke about yesterday, it's not that we need to elect the RIGHT PEOPLE to office. It's the INSTITUTION of power that corrupts. No person is safe and it's the institution that must be fought. Power structures are inherently dangerous. Don't give them credibility by playing into it/donating/voting. It's your patriotic duty.

Oh, and speaking of patriotism, let's cheer for PSYCHO ANDY at the U.S. Open and lest we forget about John Isner today...and keep the 'hope' alive for King Roger.

Creepy Crawlers

2011-09-07T12:05:00.002-04:00

I hate bugs. Can't stand em. I would like to say I'm compassionate and don't squash them when they're scurrying about, but...that's bullshit. I'd also like to say that I am the savior, the male hero that comes to the rescue of dames when they shriek in fear of a bug. But that would also be untrue. Instead, I usually join in the shrieking and stand on the bed irrationally as well.

I think I know why I fear these little things. It starts by growing up in the desert. Kind of like black people (first racist joke in awhile...gimme a break), we just don't see many of them, and when we do, we call the police (okay, fine, no more racist jokes today). The desert is home to much fewer bugs than muggier areas, so it's the fear of the unknown that gets ya. Also, I was traumatized as a kid as I explained to my roommate yesterday, when one night before I went to bed I flipped my pillow over (for the cool side obviously) and saw a giant cockroach napping underneath. I immediately screamed and did one of those instinctual rain dances where you fling your arms and legs rabidly about. Kind of like when someone tells me I can't have seconds of ice cream. That sucked. And now, each night before bed, I check under my pillow out of habit.

Since I live in the urban swamp that is Washington, my measly income relegates me to live in subterranean places - also known as basements. I've lived in different basements for the past 3 years and have grown accustomed to many of the critters that join me. Crickets are a given. A spider or two is also mundane. But what irks me the most is house centipedes. These bastards are scary looking and carry the same horsepower as a Ford Mustang. These things know when they've been spotted, and when they are, they scatter at warp speed to the nearest crevice to avoid the wrath of my flying sandal.

My new place, far and away the cleanest and least dank basement I've lived in, is home to a few of these suckers. At a recent family reunion, I spotted a couple of the drunker ones and got to them before they could hail a cab (their reaction times were admittedly slower than usual).

Recently, at nights, I'm as perspicacious as a food critic as I study the floors and walls meticulously, searching to find any stragglers. It's kind of like hide and seek, but with much highers stakes. If I spot one, the game switches to tag. Sometimes I win, sometimes they do. If I win, I take a victory lap with my sandal as the trophy. If they win, they eat my eyelashes as I sleep (kidding...I hope).

I've also read my share of Kafka, and sometimes dream of a giant bug attacking me. Thankfully, I never personify the bug, instead it's like my sister or someone else who would like to puncture my skull and vacuum out my brains like that scene in Starship Troopers. Probably, my sister doesn't need to be a bug, she could just get by with voodoo (apologies, Shannon, you're only thrown under the bus temporarily).

What about you guys? Are you afraid of bugs? Do they scare the bejeezus out of you? Do you peaceably coexist? Or do you become a cruel dictator smashing all in sight?

Last Week's Workouts

2011-09-05T21:24:00.000-04:00

A day late, but as promised, below is a list of my exercise from Monday-Sunday. The next will post Sunday night. This is a great way for me to track my progress, improve, and fine-tune my fitness. Please comment and question if you'd like.

Monday: Swim 1x1600 1x800 1x400 1x200 1x100 2x50. (meters)

Tuesday: Group Bike Ride 12 miles on my own before, 20 miles with group. Speed work, Tuesday night ride in Arlington.

Wednesday: Yasso 800's (10 x 800m). @ 2:55 with 2:00 walk after each. 30 minute weight lifting.

Thursday: 7 mile easy run (recovery)

Friday: 20 minute weight training and swim. 25x100yards. Each at 1:15 with :15 rest after each. 500 yard warm up and 500 yard cool down.

Saturday: Bike ride with Andy. 30 miles. Damn he's fast. 15 miles completely flat, the rest mix of rolling and hills. Drafted for 6-8 miles of it. Hard bike. 15 minute weight lift and 2 mile run @ 6:30 pace.

Sunday: 11 mile run @ 6:50 pace. Very hard. Probably was fatigued from previous day's workout, but things are not looking good for race day in a week...

TGIF

2011-09-02T15:08:00.004-04:00

I was going to write a funny piece on Murphy's law, but decided against it because I don't want to jinx myself. Who was Murphy btw? Kind of sucks to have your name associated with such disdain. Was this some prehistoric-man ritual where everytime 'Murphy' came around a drought would immediately commence and women became sterile?

Dammit Murphy! Things were already looking drab and then you came along! Our 401 (k) stock of Wooly Mammoths is now plummeting. How am I to retire in peace, Murphy? Maybe I'll have to start feeding my tribe twigs and berries Murph, is that what you want? Poor Murphy.

Maybe that's where they got 401 (k) from too (the amount of livestock supply required for retirement).Or is Murphy just your typical Irish moniker that aptly describes life in...well..Ireland. I suppose that could be equally applied to America these days too.

Kind of reminds me of Plato. You know, that philosopher dude who worked under Socrates. Guy is one of the most brilliant minds on Earth, and instead he's invoked in modern culture as a major buzzkill.

Ohh ya, dude she likes you. She TOTALLY, totally likes you. Just, ya know, platonically. Drat!

Maybe Plato was one ugly son-of-a-gun. Couldn't score a date for the life of him. So instead, he became this prodigy of knowledge, a student of philosophy, a one-man wrecking crew at Jeapordy. And how do we best commemorate this man - "She thinks I'm ugly." Looks matter, what can I say. This would be like remembering Michael Jordan for his Hitler mustache and not his dunking.

Anyway, couple of updates.

Fortunately for me, Andy Sovonick - colloquially known as Chicken Tender Runner - has graciously been mentoring me for my triathlon training. It's nice to learn from someone a lot faster and he's allowed me to do some training with him too. He's ranked #1 by the USA Traithlon Association for Maryland triathletes for our age group and is Honorable Mention All-American. He notified me that I'm #4 in D.C. triathletes in the same rankings. It would be pretty badass if I become tops in D.C. We'll see if that can improve after my final race of the season (October 1st). I shall keep you apprised with these things.

And what better way to do so than to begin a new Sunday night blog ritual. This Sunday, I will post my previous week's training schedule. Everything that I did that week will be posted (aside from my daily push-ups, sit-ups and fu@#ing). This will enable me to monitor my progress and keep you guys following along. Ideally, you'll find some good workouts you can incorporate into your own fitness regimen. Or just say you do to make me feel important ;).

As per the job, it's a ludicrously long story. One that STILL lacks resolution, however the powers that be are assuredly working on it. Let's read that sentence again. The powers that be are working on it. Makes you feel warm and cuddly don't it (kinda like hunting with Dick Cheney)? I've reduced my course load dramatically so I can work full-time and go to class part-time. Along with training, writing for The Eagle, my three on-campus clubs, and my other hobbies like blogging and poking fun at those weaker than me, it's safe to say itt'l be a busy year.

In other news - I have a new roommate. It's a she!! I haven't lived with anyone in years, so this has been a learning curve for both of us. Especially when I wander aimlessly naked at nights, searching for a swig of milk.

Ohhhhhh - heeyyyy! Didn't see ya there.

She's a pretty cool chick, a senior at AU. She's social and easy-going. She's also Asian and no, she will not do my homework for me (not like I've asked obviously). Of course she has to live with me so ohhhhhhh how I pity her. She's from Jersey and her boyfriend is a boxer so hopefully the next time I come out into the living room naked he's not around. My nose has been broken enough as it is.

Other than that, I must be entering an advanced stage of puberty these days as my emotions are all outta whack. I've been retro-Conor lately, storming around town angry. Why am I angry? I'm not entirely sure. I figured by training harder I wouldn't have the energy to be angry, but instead it's like a hiatus of anger and then back to raging. Must be some sort of quarter-life crisis...at least I haven't started growing back hair.

Link to First Column

2011-08-31T11:21:00.000-04:00

Back writing for The Eagle again this semester. Below is a link to my first column...

http://www.theeagleonline.com/opinion/story/a-global-mentality-post-9-11-beyond-our-own-backyard/

Chatting w/ Gary Hall...well not really

2011-08-30T11:15:00.000-04:00

This would be a good Twitter moment. Or maybe Faceballs. A few minutes ago, I answered the phone and a guy introduced himself as Dr. Gary Hall. Immediately that name sparked my interest. Where have I heard that? Before he was finished describing why he was calling, I pieced it together. Gary Hall - the swimmer. The complete total bad ass, wildchild that would show up drunk to swim meets. The guy who made people like me pay attention to swimming pre-Michael Phelps. The dude from my hometown...Phoenix!!

My Pops I think had met his father a few times in business circles. His father was an eye surgeon and we used to drive by it sometimes in Central Phoenix. By the time I got to transferring him to the proper connection, I missed my chance to speak up. I was timid, wasn't sure if it was the same guy as he seemed too old to be the Gary Hall that I remember watching on TV.

Sure enough, it was his dad. And I'm so angry with myself for not speaking up when he phoned. Especially now that I've been swimming 3-4 times per week. UGH! JIMINY CHRISTMAS (as my high school b-ball coach would say). Speak up- fail.

Weekend Recap

2011-08-29T12:58:00.001-04:00

The brouhaha that was Hurricane Irene blew through the mid-Atlantic region this weekend, spoiling my weekend plans of sunbathing. Sensing fall is just around the corner, I hoped to catch a few rays before I'm stuck in the library/classroom for the next few months. My brother, curiously nervous about my safety (he must want money) asked what my plan was.

Plan? Ya, he responded. For like the hurricane and stuff.

I texted him - lawn chair and a stogie. I wanted a front row seat to this bad boy.

I didn't end up doing that of course because my lungs are my main advantage in endurance sports so smoking a stogie is borderline retarded. Instead I went to the gym. Saturday was supposed to be a big test of my 1/2 marathon goals. I was to run at race pace for 10-11 miles. If I could do it, I know my chances of breaking 1:30 would be pretty high. If I couldn't, I knew I was gonna have to start mapquesting my way shortcuts in the course.

Of course, like many an ex-girlfriend in a mall drifting towards shoes, I kept gravitating toward the weight section to express my manliness among fellow meatheads. This particular gym is jam-packed with some of the meatiest guys around. Think Jersey Shore meets Hulk Hogan. Normally, this would deter me as the stench of Axe body spray prevents me from breathing normally. But recently, I like to go to the lightest section of weights and begin lifting (throwing in an occasional grunt or two). Now, I'm nowhere near as meaty as I used to be, but I'm still a relatively big dude. I'm 6'2". 175 pounds. And it's ineluctable that men will posture and check out their competition. Meaning me.

So over I walk to the 5-20 pound dumbell section and begin my workout. In my peripheral I can see stares of mass confusion coming from Body-Spray dudes. Like, dude, what is that guy doing? Does he even realize how much of a pussy he looks like? Anticipating these thoughts, I wore my high-cut running shorts as well as my neon racing laces on my shoes. I like to get these guys thinking and asking questions. It's good for 'em.

Anyway, after 20 minutes I got bored of watching other men adore themselves in the mirror. If I'm gonna watch men in the mirror, it better damn well be me. Wait, does that say something about me....nevermind. So I headed to my refuge, the treadmill.

Unfortunately, 20 minutes in, the obnoxious intercom announces the gym will be closing early. Drat! I had another 25 minutes before they were closing shop. So I cranked up the speed and did 6.5 miles instead. Damn paranoia, had everyone scared about the storm.

A few hours later, the storm finally arrived and I did what most normal people do when the government and TV personnel demand people stay in their homes. I went outside. I acted like a human airplane and played in the falling rain. The sky was a real neat shade of grey, it reminded me of the scene in Twister when the cow comes flying out of nowhere. Of course the wind wasn't as intense, so instead of cows, I was hoping more like supermodels (b/c they're light ya know). But to no avail, instead I splashed and stomped for no rhyme or reason and had a blast doing it.

I also came up with a great idea.

OMG!!! No one's allowed on the roads! This is totally awesome! Like, we could drive on the left side of the street...in REVERSE!!! Ohhhhhh fu@# ya, we have got to go do this. Imagine, we could do that NASCAR thing after they win in the middle of the intersection. We could CAR SURF!! I've always wanted to try that!

I was rambling on and on, yet clearly no one else shared my ebullience for this idea. Something about..'that's the dumbest idea ever.' Or 'no...just no'. Or 'please stop while you're ahead.' Oh well. It beats watching the Adjustment Bureau, which was so objectively awful I had to turn it off after half hour. Stick to politics, Matt Damon.

Wacky Weather Wrecks Washington

2011-08-25T14:05:00.003-04:00

D.C. is no stranger to drama. We're perhaps the most diverse city in the nation, but when you bring 'em all together, we go from intellectual smorgasbord of serene, to rushing to the hospital over papercuts. For some reason, instead of balancing each other out and allaying our fears, all the opposing cultures tremble at the slightest threat and pandemonium breaks loose. Ohhhh the debt ceiling!!! Ohhh, Snowpocolypse!!!! Ohhhh, fu@#ing earthquake...

Wait, what?

How'd that one slip in there? Count me as one of the people who flipped the f@#$ out during the earthquake a few days ago. It started off as a tremble, kind of like an old persons hands. The light fixtures seemed to rattle as if the Budweiser Bullet train (props to me for keeping analogies American-made) was passing through. Then things started getting really weird.

The building literally shook. I know what you're thinking. Umm, ya dude, that's why it's called a freaking earthquake dips@#$. But, I repeat...THE GROUND STARTED MOVING!!! My eyes darted across the room for some semblance of reassurance that we weren't about to flatten the IHOP (right across the street). Instead, I hear someone yell, "Conor, get under a doorway." I stood up and braced myself by my desk. I'm at the 9th floor of my office building. If this building goes down, it's taking me with it. I then realized I didn't heed the advice and was the only one standing in the middle of the room looking petrified like a Jew at a Klansmeeting. Unable to process what the hell was happening, I thought a plane had hit a nearby building.

This is D.C., ya know. These things happen.

Everyone was tentative until the tremble ceased. Finally, someone suggested that we exit the building and we all thought...ya...that's a good idea.

So we hustled past all the obese people down the stairs and stared at the building for 1/2 hour like it was the Parthenon. I kept looking for damages, feigning engineering expertise. One girl approached me and asked if it she thought the building could endure the aftershocks. My thoughts, B@#$%, I'm as scared as you right now, do I look like I know what I'm doing. I've been staring at an inanimate object for 1/2 hour now. What I said was, "Ohhh ya, the engineers who constructed this thing came from Asia, it's definitely up-to-standards."

Of course the veracity of that statement is suspect at best. I have no clue who designed our building except to say that they're likely in the glass business and really appreciate their corridors.

Today, I got excited about sampling a new food truck in Arlington a few blocks from my work. Except, as soon as I got up from my desk and looked outside it was pouring. Coming down in sheets. I paced to the window and said something like, "It's really coming down out there." This elicited blank stares from my colleagues who had been listening to the storm for the previous hour and a half. See, this is one example of my hearing disability in action. I almost thought they were gonna say, "Ya, and a few days ago...we HAD AN EARTHQUAKE!!"

Had I not felt it, I'm sure I wouldn't have heard the damn thing anyway.

Apparently now, a Hurricane is barreling toward us. Lest I remind you, this is not a place that tends to get hurricanes anymore than Phoenix tends to get snow. What the hell is going on!!??

I don't know about you, but I'm blaming Obama. First the earthquake and now this? What's next, cut social security and medicare? Wait....

Early Year Snippet

2011-08-23T13:46:00.000-04:00

As I mentioned yesterday...I'm gay. Kidding. Didn't mention that. Just want to keep you on your toes. As I did mention, I'm sharing space with some other eager columnists for The Eagle this time around. I still haven't composed my column for next week (due Saturday I think), but I got some ideas percolating. Hard to write when there's no news coming out of AU yet!

Here is a link to the introductions to the columnists. My editor has good taste by listing me first :). It's probably seniority, since I'm the only rollover from last year. Classes start Monday and it appears the job-offer-in-waiting may be here today (or at latest tomorrow). Looking forward to finalizing the details.

I went to Borders in Annapolis last weekend and fought back tears to see its doors closing. They're selling everything. Some dude was trying to purchase the Mystery/Thriller sign for his bedroom. (Suppose Romance wasn't his thing). I did buy a couple books on clearance: One compliation of Chomsky, Howard Zinn's A People's History, one by satirist O'Rourke and Chris McCormack's Ironman bio. Been speeding through the latter and have collaborated with one of the best racers in the mid-atlantic region in Andrew Sovonick. Check out his blog here. He's been kind enough to offer his insights on how to improve (especially in the bike and run). This dude is FAST. Such an amazing sport in so many ways, but I gotta say, the people you meet are just second-to-none. You can easily see why this sport becomes addicting (and also necessary after putting in $5,000). Reminds me of trampolines people used to buy. Don't let them go unused!

Tonight or tomorrow will be the last deliberation before accepting or declining the full time job offer...much to digest.

Half Marathon Looms

2011-08-22T12:21:00.001-04:00

In this ever-evolving blog, you may have noticed a shift from political, religious, and social commentary to an emphasis on triathlon training and exercise. At least as of late. Most of this is a reflection of my present day priorities. The summer sun casted its glorious spell and I've avoided much of the typical intellectual musings in favor of hedonistic ventures outdoors. I mean, if running 10 miles can be considered hedonistic...

Well, also, because summer time is a reprieve from school and that annoying thing people tend to do - 'thinking'. Now, with school creeping its ugly head around the corner and the pending job offer still floating somewhere in bureacracyland (where tax dollar come to waste), it's time to return to the books. It turns out I'll be published biweekly in The Eagle again this year. Fortunately, I share space with five other columnists this time around, and therefore have less pressure to churn out a column each week. Tomorrow an introduction-to-the-columnists paper will run (I'll link to it) and my first column will hit stands the week classes start (a week from today).

It's still a lurking possibility that I'll work full-time and reduce my school load this fall. I should have some clarity by Friday one way or another.

In the meantime, I've continued my triathlon training every day. I have definitely transformed my workout regimen and shed weight. I was flirting with 210 pounds around Christmas time last year, lifting weights each day. I weighed myself after yesterdays 12-mile LSD (long-slow-distance) and was 172 pounds. I've dropped approximately 40 pounds in the past 8 months. A lot of that was muscle. A lot of it was my butt sorry ladies), too. But I did tone my stomach too, so some of it had to be fat. I lift weights a whopping total of 30-45 minutes per week now (unless you count push-ups), the rest is cardio.

My buddy Freddy, who lives in San Diego, (and who I used to train with at SDSU) has inspired me to do another 1/2 marathon. He set a PR of 1:28 something a few months ago. That's fast. My PR for the 1/2 is 1:39:45. That time was set at the Parks Half Marathon (2009) in Bethesda, MD, and I've registered for the race again this year. This time, I'm hoping to break 1:30. Dropping 10 minutes is more than a little gap. The race is September 11 and I'm neither delusional nor shying away from my goal. I can do it. I have it in me. But all factors need to coalesce for a perfect race with no injuries between now and then. I've been running 20-30 miles per week, biking 80-120 miles per week and swimming 9-10,000 meters per week. Since my primary goal remains to improve in triathlon, I'm going to continue to cross-train as I focus on quickening my run. Ideally, I'll run my first marathon sometime in early 2012 with a goal between 3:00-3:10 (depending upon my new 1/2 PR).

I have ambitions of becoming one of the best age-group triathletes in my division (25-29). However, I vacillate between doing a full-Ironman sometime at the end of next year (2012), or keeping with Sprint/Olympic distances with one (or maybe two) 70.3's (half-Irons). I have the next couple months to think about it, before I start logging considerable miles for either. Almost every newbie triathlete yearns to complete the treacherous Ironman. And almost always it's solely for the street credibility. To hear the words "I am an Ironman." I'm no different. It's just a matter of when, not if. However, I don't know if itt'l become my niche in the sport. I need to ascertain where I'm best (which distance). Next year should give me a pretty good idea of where that is. Also, training 30 hours per week for the full IM is nothing to scoff at (however this could be the best time of my life to do it).

Anyway, expect to see some more political/American University related material in the coming weeks. I'll link to the introducions later today or tomorrow. Until then, I gotta figure out what the hell I'm gonna write for the first issue...until then, here's a link to some Luray Tri Photos...

Vetting your Information

2011-08-17T11:24:00.004-04:00

I gotta say, one humorous tidbit about this election madness is that the one extreme 'change' candidate (see - the only fella worth voting for) is the oldest white dude in the field. And the status quo is voting for the young, black dude. You couldn't make this s@#$ up. We live in some crazy times.

I don't watch a lot of TV. With my interest more than piqued in triathlon at this point, I barely have time to cook after 2-hour workouts post work. Chipotle owners are happy for this reason. And when I finally plop down, I'd prefer to watch a movie, read, or surf the Internet than suffer through another episode of Bachelor Pad (I'm kidding, Bachelor Pad, you know I'm just saying that to make my readers think I'm too cool for you).

Anyway, after Bachelor Pad, I mean, after reading The Nation, I channel surf before bedtime and I started noticing a theme of information vetting that is beginning to drive me bonkers. I suppose it's been there the entire time, but lately its looming presence becomes nauseating and I find it condescending to the point where I belittle my television for showing that crap (don't worry - I do it when no one else is home).

For example, when you watch a sporting event, you don't just get the game, uncensored, unedited, unscripted. You get the commentary. You get the play-by-play (unless you're like me and put the TV on mute). You get analysis and expert opinions. Gag me. Just because you used to play football, doesn't mean you know s@#$ about it now (or ever did). What's most maddening is these 'pundits' are without fail, almost always wrong. They'll say things like, "Cam Newton...his skills just won't transfer over as a pro. His college athleticism just won't serve him in the NFL."

Next play - cut to Cam Newton dodging 5 elite defenders while twirling the ball on his finger and posing for cameras while screwing a cheerleader. Or something like this. I mean sometimes they're so immediately wrong that it take less than 10 seconds for an obvious refutation of what the announcer just said. But, alas, this is sports you claim, it's always been this way.

Okay, fine.

I change the channel to news stories. But I don't get the news uncensored, unedited, unscripted. I get slanted rhetoric where 'talking heads' patronizingly 'break down the news for us'. I mean this is a boastful marketing headline, "Breaking down the news". Right...because we're all idiots who rely on these experts to remind us to change underwear once a week (you don't change more than that, right?). These folks are also imbeciles and almost always completely wrong. "Obama is just too liberal, his policies don't transfer over to Main Street. People care about the deficit." Cut to shots of thousands of protesters demanding their Medicare! But it's the news you cry, it's always been this way.

Okay, fine.

Change the channel to a cooking/food channel. Ahhh. Now I can relax and watch delectable goodies simmer and think for myself for a change. Maybe even learn a thing or two. But no! Back again are the 'experts' qualifying the food and critiquing each morsel as if the fig muffin was serving Henry VIII. "The presentation is lacking, um, buoyancy, it just kind of flounders there in the souffle." Girl was probably just making tacos. But you can't just watch something, you got to get an opinion or expert analyses to tell you what to think. But it's food you declare, we can't taste if ourselves, how else are we to know?

Ugh. Okay, fine.

Change the channel to a cast of dancers/singers gloriously gracing the stage with eloquent, athletic poise. Brilliant. I love it. Can't wait to see more. But no! Back come the punditry with their 'analysis'. Nitpicking the performers like gymnastics coaches. "It really doesn't look fluid. You clearly need to work on your dismounts." To which I reply, you really need to go f@#$ yourself. I can't tell for myself how much I like it anymore, because I'm so bombarded and influenced by the 'experts' it skews the whole experience. Oh, c'mon you say, these are competitions. Of course there will be 'judges'.

Double ugh. Okay, fine.

Change the channel begrudgingly to a movie. Yes! A reprieve from the punditry! Finally, it's not like someone's gonna pop up during my movie and tell me about it.

Oh, c'mon, you knew this was coming.

How blasphemous of me! Of course someone's gonna come talk to me about what I JUST SAW. What, do I really think they can trust me to think for myself??? What do I want next, my own remote that doesn't 'guide' me to the 'hot' channels? Just who do I think I am, some kind of individual or something?

Sure enough, during the commercial breaks two 'film reviewers' assay the latest snippet of the film and reduce it to its complete simplicity so I can understand it. Thanks. Wouldn't know how else to process that sh@# if it weren't for you two. Bruce Willis is just so damn deep and mysterious. How the hell was I supposed to figure him out without you guys? I was gonna go right on believing that that asteroid really was heading for Earth (f@#$ sometimes I wish it actually was). So thanks for that.

I get so disgusted that I turn the TV off. Enough. I CAN'T STAND ALL THE EXPERTS, PUNDITS, ANALYSTS, ETC. I want to think for myself dammit! Is that too much to ask????

So I open The Nation, and head straight for the book review.

Results...

2011-08-15T12:29:00.000-04:00

Like before, the in-depth race recap is posted below. This is just the results.

I tried to avoid looking at the posted results as long as possible, knowing my run was awful and that I missed out on an age-group award.

Overall, I placed 27th, out of approximately 700 (388 men) total finishers. As Luray is a very competitive venue, I'm pleased with that showing.

For my age group, I was 4th. One off from an award. Shucks. I really wanted it, and it was within my reach but just couldn't get the job done.

I believe that I could easily have been at least 2 minutes faster on my run, potentially 3-3.5 minutes faster. I think forgetting my energy bar was a costly blunder than induced fatigue sooner than necessary. Hopefully I won't make that mistake again.

I had the 7th fastest swim split overall (1st in age group), which tells me that at this point in my fledgling career, somehow the swim is my strength.

My transition times remain abysmal. Not sure how to fix this unless I stop wearing socks, but somehow people are waaaayyy more efficient than me in this 4th leg. I was 67th, and 71st overall in my transition times. That's just not gonna cut it.

My bike was actually not disappointing for me. I raced it about as hard as I could and finished 45th overall. I think this is an improvement from last time and now I have some training insights I will use to get faster.

The run. Ugh. What I thought is generally my strongest leg (I can run a sub 40-minute 10k) really hindered my overall time. I placed 51st overall with a time of 45:25. I can do better. I was expecting anything from 42-43 minutes. Granted it was an extremely challenging course and we're all tired from after the previous two events, but still, had I not bonked I would be writing about my award right now.

So that's it for now. I introduced myself to Andrew after the race and we chatted for 10 minutes. And also introduced myself to fellow racer Doran Bosso who is another blogger I follow. Hope to get to be friends with him and maybe start training together...and btw, my lactic acid in my hamstrings has still not dissipated. Even after a 7-mile recovery run yesterday....

Luray International/Olympic Traithlon Race Recap

2011-08-15T12:14:00.000-04:00

This weekend I upped the ante in triathlon racing and competed in the Luray, Virginia race. Instead of racing the Sprint distance, I chose the Olympic/International (1500m swim, 25.7 mile bike, 6.2 mile run). It is sometimes referred to as Olympic distance (like, well, in the Olympics), and sometimes the International. They mean the same thing and really it's just code words for: This S@#$ is Fu@#ing Hard.

The race was Saturday morning and hosted at Lake Arrowhead which is approximately two hours from my humble adobe nestled by American University. Unable to fall asleep until 1AM, I set the alarm for 4AM so I could be on-site no later than 6:30 (transition opened at 6). Thankfully I gave myself more time than necessary as the Beltway was rerouted and I angrily charged through the detour. Before I left I cooked two scrambled eggs with a piece of cheese and half a banana. Washed it down with some Gatorade and off I went.

During the drive I passed many fellow competitors (noted by the bike racks and tri-bumper stickers....was hoping this was a harbinger for the actual race). When I got within 20 miles of the site, the roosters literally began to crow as I rolled down the windows to acclimate myself to the temperature. Dawn was rapidly approaching and I parked at 6:20, 1 hour and 40 minutes before gun-time.

Pre-race was relatively uneventful. I had just enough time to grab my bib numbers, set up transition, get body-marked, pick up my racing chip, use the port-a-john and scout out the course and competition. I wanted to ensure myself a front-row starting spot for my wave, so I got down to the lake early for a warm-up swim.

I also had to get away from all the men in their 20-50's (yep, 50's) with six-pack abs. It's all a bit intimidating and the posturing is nauseating at times. It elicits mixed feelings of pride (that you belong) and shame (that some 50 year-old is in better shape than you). So down to the water I went to get a feel for the temperature and visibility(was preferring murky mud to abs at this point).

After only 5 minutes in the water, I was asked to come ashore for the National Anthem. I immediately spotted our former mayor, Adrian Fenty, and his brother Shawn. They were in the wave before mine. Just a few minutes later I'm nervously bobbing in the water, anxious to release my pent-up anxiety.

Bam! Gun goes off and arms are flying everywhere. Anyone who hasn't witnessed this spectacle really needs to just for sheer amusement. And anyone who's witnessed it and hasn't experienced it should give it a shot. It's a hell of a way to start your day!

The first 300 meters, I'm comfortably keeping pace with about 15 other guys in my wave (29 and under) at the front. I'm surprised we haven't separated all that much. Another 400 meters in, and I see only one other light blue cap nearby, which implied I was near the front as I had already been passing many of the earlier wave racers. At this point, I dig in and stop looking up periodically to check my buoy status. Mistake. When I finally did look up, I had drifted about 15 meters off and had to correct my trajectory immediately. I dug in and picked up the pace to make up for my meandering.

With about 200 meters remaining, the shore was within sight and there were no more turns. I dug in and pulled hard with each stroke. At this point, no one was really near me, and later I'd find out that I had a great swim leg.

I stumbled sideways for footing when I reached shore and knocked into another racer (he probably didn't enjoy it all too much). I began jogging up the flight of stairs toward transition areas (stairs after water = disorienting). Thankfully, a large crowd had lined the stairs and cheered loudly as I ascended. It was a great feeling because the closest guy was now 10 seconds behind me. So. Those cheers were for me :).

As I entered transition I noticed that nearly all bikes were still on the racks. A very good sign for me. I was feeling confident about my position. I got to my bike as quick as possible and exited transition with my Gu in my back pouch. I passed two cyclists within the first mile and then creeped up on another couple riders when I was overtaken for the first time. I checked out the calf (where the age is written) and noticed it said 25. Dammit! But since I recognized the racer (Andrew Sovonick) I knew he would be a top finisher and therefore took solace that I was ever ahead of the dude in the first place.

I tried to keep him in my sights but it proved as easy as keeping Bill Clinton out of your pants, so that didn't work very well. Instead I had told myself before the race not to hold back on the bike. I didn't want another disappointing split so it was all in on the bike.

It was a stunning bike course. Absolutely lovely with rolling hills, false flats, one monstrous climb and two epic downhills. My quads were burning. I devoured all the Gu by the 20th mile and the last 5 miles were real tough. A 29 year-old (also in my age group) passed me around the 21st mile and I muttered something angrily under my breath (something like, "You bloody bastad"). To my luck and surprise, only a quarter-mile later, the dude is pulled off the road (presumably with a flat tire) and my schadenfreude kicked in as I mini celebrated. Of course, karma is a bitch, and soon enough he was passing me on the 'infamous monstrous climb' at the 24th mile.

I assumed (based on body type) I was a better runner than he, so I wasn't too upset that he had gained 15 seconds or so on the bike. I'd pass him later.

The crowd was boisterous as I got back to transition, at this point I knew I had to be in the top 50 overall.

I also passed Andrew during my ride who was probably 1/2 mile into his run when I came in on the bike. Dismounted, scrambled to get my shoes off and put the running shoes on. And in all the blur, I forgot to grab my energy bar. Too late, had already exited transition and quickly passed two runners. I'd be okay, it's only 40 minutes left...right?

The sun was now beaming down and I had no idea what the run course was like. But I felt no tweak in my hip/knee/back and felt strong. Lungs were doing okay, legs were cooperating. The first mile or two went by and I was cruising. Mile two to three was mainly downhill and I really felt like I could reel in a few more racers and keep my #2 spot in the age group (top 3 get awards). Except, the course was an out-and-back. So what came down...must come up. And from miles 3.5-6, I just completely and utterly bonked. My mouth was agape, my head was down, my shoulders were high. I must've looked helpless (kinda like Napoleon Dynamite without the dope hair). A few people passed me and my speed had reduced so significantly that I pondered walking. Walking! Never!

Walking to me, meant defeat. It meant I was quitting. I dug in as deep as I could to maintain my snail of a pace (a smidge north of jogging). with only a mile to go, a '27' calf passed me and I knew my award was out of reach. I was disappointed. I raced so hard, only to bonk a mere two miles from the finish.

At the 6 mile-marker I tried to sprint and couldn't. I tried again in the last 100 meters and literally looked like the wobbly guy you've seen in the Ironman videos. Never in my life did I understand those people. Just finish dammit! You're right there! I'd always think. There's no way you can be that close and just fail! But now I've experienced it. My body just shut down. Would. Not. Respond. Every stride my hamstrings had a major charley-horse. I thought I was gonna collapse. I honestly would love to see a video of those last few meters in the chute. Extreme pain.

Fortunately I was able to finish with that awkward wobble of a sprint. I wanted to fall on the ground but my charley horses were sooooooo relentless that they only moderately alleviated if I was absolutely straight legged. So I hobbled like a wood-legged pirate and downed 3 bottles of Gatorade within 2 minutes. Ya, had to be some kind of record. Then I ate a PB&J and submerged my legs in the ice bath.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh. I was done. And surprisingly revitalized and chipper! I did it! And it was, without a doubt, the hardest thing I have ever physically accomplished.

Christianity and War - A Marriage in the Mind

2011-08-10T12:37:00.003-04:00

Last night I tuned into POTUS (one of my preferred XM radio stations) and endured a hybrid form of torture...listening to a press conference from someone speaking about the military (funerals). Since I didn't catch the introduction of the speaker and didn't recognize his voice, I assume he is a spokesman for the State Department or the Department of Defense. Didn't sound like Jay Carney, but could've been.

The speaker was fielding the most ridiculously obscure questions from the press pool imaginable. Things like, "Before the bodies are transferred into the caskets, where are they held?" He'd reply something like, "Dignified plastic containers (I'm serious...dignified is now an adjective for plastic)." Another journalist would chime in, "How many soldiers per container?" He would respond, "I'll have to get back to you on that, but one per casket." "How many flags are draped on each casket, and how many times is the flag folded?"

American journalism, ladies and gentlemen.

The elephant in the room remained unprovoked. How dare we challenge our venerated leaders on the pertinent issues at stake.

After listening to the speaker invoke the words; God, sacrifice, and servicememebers for the nteenth time, I turned off the radio in disgust. Sometime thereafter I tuned back in and listened to parents of the slain American military members (the Navy Seals who were recently gunned down) defend their son's deaths. Saying things like, "We couldn't be prouder. He loved this nation and he died defending something he loved." Or, "Without our son's courage, we wouldn't be speaking hear today (I assume b/c our freedom would be stolen by the freedom-stealers...though you should note the irony)."

Perhaps the most frustrating dilemma I encounter when dealing with folks, is the routine glorified explanation whenever a soldier is killed. The sense of duty, loyalty, honor, and courage gets heaped onto the slain victim so profusely that it completely overwhelms any potential discussion that his life didn't need to be wasted. I always wonder why critical faculties are completely ignored under these circumstances. Instead, the mourner will ultimately revert back to the propaganda we've been fed since birth. He fought for our freedom. He died to keep us free. He died for you and me.

It literally makes my blood pressure spike.

Why do people believe this bullshit when it's patently false? How is it that 99% of the population is captivated by a vacuous theory and defaults into cliche justification after cliche justification in the event of a death? Why can't we see that these soldiers are being used as fodder for the politics of the day? Why can't we see the ineluctable pointlessness after our present invasions? Even with history as hindsight, we still refuse to alter the paradigm that these people died 'for us.'

And then it occurred to me. Jesus.

Because I wasn't indoctrinated as a young boy to believe in him, I remain skeptical of all claims regarding the dude. But the strangest (and most outlandish) is the proclamation that "Jesus died for our sins." To a non-Christian this is truly a bizarre statement, and one that makes them feel like the person who said it probably just finished snorting Valium.

What does that even mean? He died for our sins...um, WHAT!?

It must be difficult to question when you've been consuming that slop for decades. And think of how simple it is to transfer that ridiculous wonder-of-a-statement over to your son/daughter/friend/spouse who was killed in the Middle East somewhere. It's okay. He died for us. To keep us safe. It's regurgitated, unchallenged. And yet still...makes no fuc@#$ sense.

Jesus died for us. And so did the Navy Seals. All is well in the world in the minds of the public.

Riddle...

2011-08-08T15:16:00.000-04:00

Love 'em or hate 'em here's the latest:

Walking angrily is what am I,
Or an accurate ball caught on the fly,
I can also be a force that sticks,
Will leave your jaw aching from the hit,

One of three is what I can be,
Or a routine endeavor by our mil-it-ary...

What am I????

Subcultures - Leg Shaving

2011-08-04T12:07:00.000-04:00

Matriculating into the wonderful world of triathlons, I've been introduced to a variety of different subcultures. The most prominent, bar none, is the cycling world. No one sums up the debonair condescension associated with said leg shavers better than my amigo BikeSnob. Snob ridicules the 'fixies' (single-speed bikes), carbon (crabon infatuates), the know-it-all pontificates, or the intense club rider (amongst others). He knows a hell of a lot more than I do about it (and is on par as far as sh@# talkin is concerned), and I generally defer to his posts when gently criticizing the 'lifestyle' that is cycling.

But a recent thread on the DC Triathlon Club website caught my attention and I had to opine, because, well, it's my damn obligation now that I own a racing bike. It comes with the helmet (sold separately). It's called, "Must have a zealous opinion on everything." Of course I purchased that accessory long ago, and applied it to pretty much everything, but lest I forget, cycling deserves its due.

The initiator of the thread asked a relatively benign question about whether or not he should shave his legs. Simple enough. The omniscient cyclists were quick to respond, most of whom endorsed leg shaving for a couple reasons. First, it's cleaner in case of a crash. For some reason, hair interacts with the pavement and inflames the bloody mess (wouldn't it act as a buffer???). It's science, meaning - hard to explain and we know it doesn't exist and can't trust it - so moving on. Secondly, hairless is more aerodynamic, hydrodynamic, etc. Simply put, less weight, less air resistance, less drag. This is also science so we must do our best to display discomfort at its findings (kind of like climate change, gravity, Cornell West's hair, etc.).

Included with the racing bike (also sold separately) is the responsibility to share personal anecdotes to convince others that your way reigns supreme. Therefore, I shall justify my hairless proclivity, and will tell you from the outset, it has NOTHING to do with the above reasons.

Of course, sometimes I lie when someone asks me.

Dude 1: Bro, do you shave your legs?

Dude 2: Word, I noticed. What's up with that? Are you like..gay?

Me: Oh, sh@#, ya, I mean, it's all about efficiency. Can't be dragged down in my races ya know. You should try it.

Dudes: No, we're good. Thanks.

Or....

Massage Therapist: You're so prickly, do you shave your legs?

Me: Nope. Just grows in that way.

MT: Really, never seen that before. Like ever.

Me: Yep. Rare skin condition. Called hairwontfuckingrowcorrecltyitis (said really fast).

MT: Ahhhhhh. Good to know.

So why do I shave my legs? Hard to remember when I started (no it isn't). I mean I just can't place my finger on it (I absolutely know the moment it began). If I only think back (right...like I need to).

During high school, my buddy Casey had the best calves ever. I mean those things were like shiny plates of carved gold. It never occurred to me that the reason they were so shiny and bronzed was due to the unfettered sun attention he'd been giving them (along with numerous calf raises). I just thought the dude had great calves (note to women - see, we judge other men just as much as you judge other women).

One day after basketball practice we were soliciting behind some snack bar and one of the cool guys (not me) said something along the lines of, "Damn, Conor, you're like a Woolly Mammoth. Your leg hair has its own zip code." It was something like this (precisely this, in fact verbatim). Usually immune from the peer pressure and harassment of pubescent teens, I looked down embarrassed and shrugged it off. Never had thought about it up to that point.

That night, went out in the desert (sounds creepy, but this is Phoenix mind you) and with a pair of scissors I trimmed down the hedges.

But a curious thing started happening a couple years later. I had been in the habit of trimming my leg hair, and suddenly it's as if the subculture had an about face. Kids my own age (about 18-20) started teasing me for shaving my legs (fuuuuuuuuuck just can't win with you people can I???)

However this time I refused to be bullied into altering my routine and continued to trim (except procured a body trimmer this time). And viola, I still do today.

Over the last 6 years, I encroached on other bodily territory (arms, chest, upper legs, pretty much anything aside form armpits). I'm telling you, that trimmer has a mind of its own ( I even once cut my eye brow, but that's a different tale). Believe it or not, I like the way it feels. However, I'd be lying to say that's the main reason. It's no longer because I feel compelled to stemming from a stinging high school comment. It's not to appease my fellow cycling pals (ahhh the piety). It's not because I want to be faster, or because I'm worried about road rash.

It's simply because, as my buddy fraternity brothers (who didn't shave) used to say in San Diego...you just look sooooo good. Any fledgling triathlete will tell you, race pics look exponentially better when the skin is smooth. The veins protrude, the muscles, refulgent from under the sun, glimmer. Why should I train my ass off, only to have hair sabotage my look? I work hard to get ab definition, and now no one's gonna see it because of some hair that's in the way? It's like getting a boob job only to go on to wear sweaters the entire year. Uh uh. Not having it.

Egotistical vanity? You bet. Not denying that for an instant. But it's honest. It's the truth. And at least I'm not hiding behind some flimsy justification to deflect from the chief explanation.

I shave because women are attracted to hard bodies. And in order for peeps to see mine, I gotta manicure a bit. Since I'm not the most handsome bloke on the block, I rely much more on my athletic prowess to attract the wandering female glance than men like, Colin Farrell. In fact, I have personal stories of how successful I've been with women solely because of my body. It is what it is. Gotta use your strengths to your advantage.

One final tidbit, women don't tend to like it all that much. I mean, they enjoy spectating for sure, but ultimately, they find it overly feminine to the touch. They don't mind a little hair on your chest/legs. Of course most my age enjoy the trimming of the...well...you know. But anything else is superfluous and ummm...kinda weird.

Just can't win! :)

Oh, and one more thing. Maybe I'm lying. Maybe it's because I'm addicted to it and it makes me lighter on the scale....or is it...

Culpepper Sprint Result

2011-08-01T12:26:00.000-04:00

Before you read this post, you may want to read the one below to give you a better idea of the race. This is just the results.

As I mentioned, I won the novice race. By a lot. The link shows that the second-place novice was 14 minutes behind me, but, it's not a major victory as in reality, this was my second race.

I was, however, pleased that I finished 9th (out of 265 men) and 10th overall (out of nearly 500). One woman beat me and another was one second slower (for that coveted top 10 spot!!).

I loved this race. It was a gorgeous course. The people were friendly. The weather was amazing. It wasn't too crowded. Literally loved every second of it. Can't wait for the Luray Olympic distance in less than 2 weeks!

After boasting to anyone who'd listen about my bike ride, I was stunned to see I finished 31st. I could have gone faster, but it was hard to know how hard to push, since no one was passing me. Next time I know not to measure it on whom I pass, rather my heart rate and watt output.

The swim, wasn't as brisk as I've done in the pool, but it did secure me 7th, and I'm only getting faster now that I've joined a master's swim group.

My run was a predictable 20:09. I would've liked to be sub 20, but considering I could barely jog two days prior, I'll take it.

Most shockingly, my transition times were comparatively awful; T1 (79th place) T2 (55th place). I need to do much better. I guess this is something I should actually practice. The guy who finished one place ahead of me was 30 seconds faster overall. But he was 44 seconds faster just on combined transition times. No good.

Overall, I'm happy with the result and am nervous and curious how I compare to the tougher Olympic distance racers rapidly approaching...

Culpepper Sprint Triathlon Recap

2011-08-01T12:04:00.000-04:00

Happy August 1st, or as we like to say in Washington, "We just saved your dumb@#ses from the doom of the pending apocalypse!" You can thank us later. For now, we're all following Rep. Boehner to the tanning booth to celebrate. Hurray brilliant legislators!

I actually got the hell out of Washington this weekend, trying to avoid the histrionics and unnecessary grandstanding that you can expect as much as triple degree weather this month. Gag me, good grief. Everyone seemed so captivated, but it seemed to me pretty par-for-the-course for this gang of idiots occupying Congress. What resulted of course, looks like an awful 'compromise' that takes money from poor people while maintaining our bombing preference of the week. Gotta keep that military spending up, because, ya know things can get real bad over here if we don't. How bad? Bad like the government cutting social security benefits, medicare and medicaid? Well not that bad, sheesh, talk about overreacting...

Anyway, I don't want to waste time disparaging the gang of six, or marvel at Obama's lackluster presidency (to put it mildly). On to more personal matters...triathlon #2!!!

Well, technically #1, because the first one wasn't in my name, and I could've made the whole story up just to illustrate my ability to bamboozle folks with my words. Because I had never registered personally for one, I once again registered as a novice (first-time racer). Which, of course, has its perks and liabilities.

A perk would be the limited competition (last time I finished 2nd out of 324). A liability - I had to begin my race in the last wave (12 minutes behind my age group). Which means I started behind men 40+, the young women, and the 40+ women.

Didn't sleep much the night before. Woke up around 3AM, read articles on my iPhone for two hours, then hopped in the shower and departed for the race. I ate a couple eggs w/cheese and half a banana. The weather forecast was ideal. Clear skies, 75 degrees when the gun went off at 8AM.

Culpepper, Virginia is about an hour and a half southwest of Washington, nested in a bucolic setting of rolling hills, small farms, and the looming Shenandoah mountains. Prior to race day, I injured my hip on Wednesday. I was on the treadmill attempting to run 10 miles at 1/2 marathon race-pace (6:50m/mile) and felt a sharp pain on my left side at the 3-mile marker. I felt I could push through and by mile 5 it was flaring up again. I decided I'd reduce the total to 8 miles, but of course, by the time I got to 8....you know the routine.

When I hobbled off the treadmill I knew I tweaked it pretty good. Half hour later, I'm in the shower, I glance down and notice a small uncolored peach protruding from my hip bone. I literally looked like a girl going through puberty (WHERE DID THESE HIPS COME FROM??!!). Needless to say s@#$ hurt pretty bad and I didn't think I'd be healed in time to race. Self-daignosed with a bad case of hip bursitis. After grimacing through a few practice strides Saturday night, I was a game time decision and elected to give it a shot.

Sooooooooo happy I did.

Swim (750m)

Muscled my way to the front of the last wave, didn't want to get kicked in the face to start my day. Instead of jumping into the water from a dock, we had an in-water start. I splashed around, getting acclimated to the temperature (85 degrees) and visibility (murky). When the gun went off, instead of freaking out and sprinting, I tried to take long strokes and refrain from panicking. Mission accomplished. 150 meters in, I was feeling great, hit a rhythm and looked up to find the buoys right in line. My group had to wear green caps, and by 200 meters, all but one was behind me. I started to catch the 40+ women (the 4th group) and had to watch out so as not to swim over them. Made the first turn around the yellow triangle buoy, and was into the long straightaway. Another hundred meters and I was passing some in the younger women wave. It was great to see different color caps.

By the time I approached the final turn (150 meters remaining) I was kicking it, and even managed to catch some men in the first group. Felt refreshed and energized and jogged into the transition area.

T1 (First Transition)

Felt much, much faster than the previous ones. Still decided to wear socks, but didn't sit down and had no major impediments. Got my bike and jogged out.

Bike (16 miles)

Before I was able to mount (love that word), competitors had to jog their bikes uphill on wet grass (some peeps ate it) for 75 yards or so. I didn't fall, but was a bit out of breath by the time I hopped on. Bike course was constantly up and down with almost no flat stretches. The ups weren't too intimidating and the downs weren't that exhilarating, but the constant change made for an interesting ride. I took a small protein energy bar with me and had filled my water bottle with my favorite G2 (low-calorie Gatorade). The first sharp (1/2 mile in) turn I saw a man about 40 years old, wipe out hard. His tire, wet from the grass, skidded as he took the turn too fast and he got banged up real good. I initially slowed and considered helping him (you guys believe me....right??), but a race usher ran over to assist so I kept plugging away. Noted to self: take the turns slow.

I.....was.....flying. I must've passed 100-150 people over the 16-mile ride. Not a single person passed me the entire way (granted I started in the last wave and had a lot of making up to do). At mile 15, there was a turn I didn't see and was about to pass a man 41 years old (they mark your calf with your age) on the outside. Well, the turn was a left, and since I didn't see it, he yelled it out to me, a second before I almost t-boned him. I yelled, "Sorry bout that!" and "Thanks for the heads up!" He was very cheerful and smiled and we chatted for a minute before my jet engines kicked in and I zoomed down the hill. One thing I absolutely love about triathlons is the people. They're all so kind and supportive. When I was passing folks they all encouraged me and said things like, "Way to go", "Looking strong" "I want to have your babies". Okay, maybe not the latter, but you get the idea.

T2 (Second Transition)

This time, I procured some neon green racing laces (ones you don't have to tie) so that saved me some time. I decided to keep my sunglasses on for the run since it was so bright. I took one final swig of Gatorade, snapped my race belt on, and headed back to the hills.

Run (5k)

The course was only 5k, so I knew I could go out fast. Problem, was that it started with a 1/3 mile hill, and my form was compensating for my hip. Another hum-ba-ling moment was when I started the run, the first finisher was sprinting by me the opposite way. Hum...ba...ling...Initially I was worried I'd have to walk for a large portion of the run due to my unbalanced gait, but endorphins kicked in and the injury was mostly an afterthought.

The run shared most of the same course as the bike so it was up and down. My lungs felt great and I passed many people. I tried to pick off as many top women as possible (usually how I gauge my performance). I made an effort to smile the entire way and each time I passed a water station I dumped some (brrr...ice cold) to cool me down. I really tried to enjoy this race the entire way, instead of putting pressure on myself or having a singular focus. I'm not curing cancer. I'm doing an elective race and I tried to keep a healthy perspective.

My socks didn't go up high enough on my foot and ended up brushing up against my heel pretty badly. Should've applied some body glide there too. Felt strong, not too fast, not too slow, but ran a relatively good race I thought.

Post-race

Saw four kiddie pools and didn't immediately make the connection that they were filled with ice water (and not designed for childcare). Only a few souls were brave enough to go in, and I was coaxed in by none other than the dude I almost T-boned an half hour earlier. We chatted and shared a laugh about the ride and he said next time he should've let me go straight so then I wouldn't have passed him.

The weather was heating up, and as I downed some post-race snacks, they posted the results. I stuck around and collected my prize (a folding chair) for winning the novice race...See new post above for results.

When Parents Join Facebook

2011-07-28T12:35:00.000-04:00

First of all, I've registered my new domain name (conorspeace.com) via godaddy.com. As you may know, sexy race car driver Danica Patrick popularized the website. What you may not know, is what the hell the site did. Maybe you're like me, and were too busy staring/drooling over Patrick and wondering if she...won lots of races on the series circuit. Um, ya, because that's exactly what I was wondering when I was watching too.

Anyway, there's some lingering ambiguity about how this all goes down. I'm hoping that in the near future, if you type in haventsoldoutyetbutimwillingto.blogspot.com, you will be re-routed to conorspeace.com. So, if you don't know how to bookmark a site that doesn't exist yet (kind of like proposing to an imaginary woman) I can't blame you. Ideally, once my new domain is operable, things will remain relatively the same, and this momentous move will be complete. And it will be back to posting riddles, 24/7 because that's what ALL my readers want. Maybe I should change the domain name again to CONORSRIDDLES.com. Okay, okay, not too many riddles, I got it.

On to more pressing matters. Chiefly, my folks joining Faceballs. I mean Facebook, Faceballs is what I coin it, because I enjoy ridiculing people (I could just stop the sentence here...but I won't) who Faceballs. It's a very odd sensation when your parents are able to monitor your every move through status updates and pics. Am I supposed to friend my parents? Will they be offended if I don't? Should all my friends try to friend them? Will they become Faceballs stalkers? How do I know they won't sabotage my life by posting photos of me as a child dressed up as a ballerina? Not like those photos exist or anythin....

These are some of the things that swirl through my head as I scrambled to assay the shocking news I recently heard. Of course, then reality struck and I remembered, "I don't have a Faceballs." Whew. Got off easy. Of course, I'm one of a minority of people (like those who shower with clothes on), who refuse to comply with the social-media tool. My reasons are numerous and if you care to know, ask me in the comment section. Then I also remembered that this blog is a public magnifying glass into my life and most secrets are out in the open anyhow (except the real juicy ones). This blog has got to be more potentially damaging than any Faceballs picture could be. Right?

Despite my initial repulsion over my parents succumbing to the wicked trend of social networking, I decided to give them a call and hear it straight from their own mouths. Mom first.

Me: Mom, uh, did you join Facebook?
Mom: Ohhhhhhh....you know Shannon (my sister) was so insistent...
Me: Does that mean yes?
Mom: Well, I was in San Diego, you know, and she was showing me photos of her and Nick (her boyfriend) and I thought it was so cute...
Me: Yes or no Mom, on Facebook or not?
Mom: I just thought that I could view the pictures easier...and then gosh you can't believe what this site can do.
Me: I'm going to start calling you Joe Biden if you can't give me a straight answer here.
Mom: I mean, your ex-girlfriends are all friending me (sweeeeeeeeeeet), I don't know what to do...it's not like I want to be an active presence or anything. I just wanted to view some damn photos!!!

Mom actually didn't fulimate, exclamation points inputted solely for dramatic effect. She did however, remain obstinately defiant and defensive over my accusation. I told her, Mom, I don't care, I just think it's funny that you joined. I don't care what you do. But she still felt the need to justify the decision, as if she had left the milk carton with only a tiny swig remaining for the next person. All in all, a funny conversation had, and Mom's is sure enough, on Facebook.

On to Pops.

This one really surprised me. A) Because Pops is about as computer literate as Obama is anti-war. B) The dude is in his 60's. C) Because if you knew him, you know he pokes fun at trends so incessantly, that Larry David looks uncritical in comparison.

My brother and I always mock-chant around him, "Soccciieeeeettttyyyyyyyy, Socccccciieettttyyyyyyy."

And it was as if Pops and Mom spoke the same language.

Me: Pops, are you on Facebook?
Pops: Well, shit, your ex-girlfriends are all trying to be my friend. Some of them are looking pretty good too.
Me: Does that mean yes?
Pops: I'm just trying to view some pictures, but then I start getting all these friend requests. Don't want to say yes. But feel bad saying no. I mean now I know their every move...I DON'T WANT TO KNOW THEIR EVERY MOVE!! (again, exclamation points for dramatic effect).
Me: On Facebook, yes or no?
Pops: You know our friends Leslie and Graham, from our Vietnam trip? Well, see, they wanted me to view some of their pictures. And you know Ed from Thailand..
Me: (thinking I just had this conversation like 5 minutes ago).

I told Pops I'm not judging (I'm soooooooo judging) and I don't care what he does. He doesn't have to explain his decision to me (he does). And I'm happy he joined (not entirely accurate, but not upset about it either).

Anyway, Mom and Pops, welcome to Faceballs. Yes, it's a powerful tool with many pro's and many con's too. Now, listen, would you mind teaching me how to set up an account???

Follow Up

2011-07-26T10:56:00.000-04:00

It appears conorspeace.com remains the unslain victor in the challenge for next URL. Please bookmark it in the next day or two, before I formally change it and you lose me forever in the vast abyss of cyberspace. And my feelings will irreperably be damaged.

To respond to some of the comments: I agree the blog list is unclear and the color needs to be tweaked. I've been trying via the template format to alter it, but can't figure out how at the moment. When I do, I'll clarify it so you won't miss out on other self-important voices on the web.

As per the riddles: Wow. Such strong feelings on this. If only we cared as much about world peace!!! I think they're infrequent and harmless and will continue on a sporadic basis. If you don't like 'em, don't participate. I don't believe I've posted one in the last 3 months anyhow. Regardless, if you see one, don't carp, maybe if I included prizes you'd be enticed to guess and figure 'em out...besides, Mom likes them, and the simple fact that she's my Mom means they stay.

As far as requesting topics: Please do. I'm always amenable to new topics and debating an issue others feel passionately about. Either email me (by clicking on my profile email link) or comment and let me know....

Until next time, perhaps the last post on this URL...

MUST READ!!!!!!!!!!!

2011-07-21T17:25:00.000-04:00

Aren't exclamation points grand? I mean if you see words in CAPS and !!!!!!!!! you know that person is not fu@#ing around. Anyway, this post is very important as I need to notify you guys of a few changes. The most important is that my URL (what the hell does that stand for anyway???) will likely be changing. As you know or may have forgot if I am bookmarked (c'mon don't I deserve it?) , it's currently http://haventsoldoutyetbutimwillingto.blogspot.com/ .

And that's worked fine and dandy for the past few years. But now I think I'd like to change it. I am thinking something like conorspeace.com. To me it's clever b/c I'm offering a p(ie)ce of my mind and as a pacifist it's a quasi play on words. I don't think I'm forced to have a URL.blogspot.com so I have more autonomy to do what I please assuming it's not already taken. I am open to ideas if you have any as well.

In any case, before I change it, I will post the URL-in-waiting for you to see for a day or two so you have time to re-bookmark if you will. For those who check sparingly, I won't disappear altogether, as a simple Google search of my name almost always produces my blog.

So put your thinking caps on and let's get something more concise and creative than what's going on now.

The second appetizer of the day is the new template. Love it/hate it? It can easily be tweaked. Blogger has come up with cooler and cooler designs, so if you're not sold on a particular element of this, let me know. I'm looking for something a bit more pleasant looking. Something not overly distracting, but soothing and comforting. Exactly what you've come to expect from me, right? That was a joke.

So take a moment and type your thoughts and if your URL is the chosen one, you will win a prize.

P.S. Anyone know of a good prize!?!?!?!?

Feministing...

2011-07-20T13:07:00.000-04:00

As you've hopefully noted, I've added a blogroll of some of the blogs I frequent daily. I visit a few others, but those remain secretive (unless Jesus himself requests, oh, or the US government, which is monitoring our every moves whether we like it or not). Don't worry, it's for our own good...right???

Anyway, one of my favorites I've been viewing is titled, "Feministing." It's unlike your typical feminist site where young angst is dripping off the page, vilifying chauvinism in our culture.

Okay, maybe it isn't...In any case, the blog has numerous contributors and is one of the better sites that promote gender equality.

Of course, sexism can be somewhat ambiguous and your interpretation of what/when you see it is arbitrary. Yesterday, a woman named Chloe posted a story about a friend of hers who shared with her a story of 'sexism' he encountered at a wedding inside of a men's bathroom (no, the groom was not given a wedgie).

To summarize, her friend was in the bathroom at the reception, and overheard a few blokes talking about bridesmaids. One of the less gentlemenly asked, "Hey dude, are you going for bridesmaids tonight?" And his even less gentlemanly buddy immediately quipped, "Yeah, the one with big tits."

No big deal, right?

According to Chloe, Charles had an opportunity to speak out and nip the sexist behavior in the butt, but instead remained silent. Anti-sexism fail.

This post spawned copious feedback, half of which disagreeing with this type of talk equated with sexism. Some commenters said 'big tit' man clearly didn't know the bridesmaid and identified her by her most, um, definable characteristic. Some said, Charles should've intervened and claimed that 'big tit' girl was his sister. Others said a sibling relationship is irrelevant and missing the point that ALL WOMEN deserve protection from this objectifying language. One commenter said what's the difference if in the woman's bathroom, a girl said, "I like the dude with nice arms." Whereas others found that to be a false comparison.

Anyway, you had more back and forth than ping-pong. Take the time and READ IT why don't ya ;). It's a fun way to pass the day.

My two cents: Obviously the statement was a bit crude and overtly referencing sex. In some ways this perpetuates the notion that women are hyper-sexualized objects to be ogled at by tongue-wagging men. That point has some merit. We can't know with certainty how these guys feel about sexism, however we can wager confidently that they're not protesting with NOW (neither have I, mind you). Albeit, sexism to me is a big deal, and should be addressed when it is apparent.

But I've remarked similar things in front of other men and still consider myself a feminist. Can I do that? Am I a hypocrite? I think not, because feminism means different things to different people (however social, political, and economic equality are all prerequisites I believe). Can I be pro-life and pro-feminism? That's a question I ponder frequently.

Back to the scenario: Feminism to me, is about empowering women. This guy's statement doesn't reflect his action(s) necessarily. It more illustrates that he's a horny dude who enjoys cleavage (most men would feel at home in this corner). The 'big-tit' girl has the power, here. Unless the guy was gonna roofie her (no way of knowing), he would have to approach her and use his 'game' to seduce her. If she wanted to bed him, great, if not, that's great too. No reason why two consenting adults can't have promiscuous sex. Who's to say she's not as horny as he is?

Women deserve to have feelings of lust and should be liberated to share those with friends just as men do. That's the type of equality I'm hoping for. I generally loathe political correctness, and I don't find the 'tit' comment offensive. Men and women are both sexual entities. We have body parts that the other sex (presuming heterosexuality here) admire and marvel over. I don't think women are 'lowering themselves' to the gutter of men's brains. I think women haven't been able to articulate their sexual desires because of societal constructs telling them they're a 'slut' or 'skank' if they do so.

That's garbage. I agree with one commenter who says, "We are all sexual objects. Recognizing that does not necessarily negate what makes us human.The belief that it does is a dinosaur of our Judeo-Christian upbringing. (Sexual object = Bad, degrading, base)" Leave it to religion to mar our primary reason to live...

Of course, much of my work involving sexism entails changing the culture. Specifically, male culture. There ARE societal pressures still in place that prevent women from being as blithely transparent as men. But I prefer to operate in a world where we're already moving past these issues and changing it by living it. So I wouldn't reprimand the man saying something overly sexual than I would if a woman said it. I find it natural and a welcome repudiation of this 'Judeo-Christian' repressive bullshit we've been living under.

Just goes to show you how complex one simple incident of gender equality becomes on the good ol' internet...

Desert...ed

2011-07-19T12:14:00.000-04:00

If you didn't grow up in the desert,
You haven't smiled in awe as coyotes yelp the blues,
The yellow moon cools the gravel,
And the lizards scurry beneath the land,

You wouldn't shake your towel thrice before drying,
Out of habit
Since the scorpion once nested in it while you showered,

If you didn't grow up in the desert,
You haven't learned the method to call the javelinas bluff,
A staring contest that can leave you aching,
If you don't nod and respect their power and teamwork,

You wouldn't know the difference between a rattlesnake nor garter,
And how to react when you've been spotted,

If you didn't grow up in the desert,
You wouldn't know that something is always watching,
No act goes unseen as hawks and vultures soar above,
And the owls camouflage under the branches of the mesquite,

You wouldn't believe that as scorching it gets during the day,
At night can induce a shiver with a 30 degree drop,

If you didn't grow up in the desert,
You would'nt marvel at the opening of the flowers,
The bright white devoured by the hummingbirds,
Along the cacti arms, but close abruptly at dusk,

You wouldn't respect the Saguaro as the patriarch,
The sage of the terrain whose longevity is unparalleled,

If you didn't grow up in the desert,
You wouldn't request extra ice in your soda,
When it's 13 degrees while visiting Chicago in winter,

Nor understand that potholes don't occur when roads aren't paved,
And how dirt roads ripple like a lake,
From the speed of the vehicles,

If you didn't grow up in the desert,
You wouldn't wonder what a mosquito bite feels like,
Until you moved East and discovered they'd been salivating your arrival,

You'd scoff to learn you couldn't dry your clothes outside,
Humidity would be foreign as snow,

If you didn't grow up in the desert,
You may wonder what a septic tank is for,
Or whether horses have the right-a-way,

You'd know bunnies are called rabbits,
And your dog is faster than you can imagine,

If you didn't grow up in the desert,
You wouldn't know stars shine just a little brighter,
To compensate for the lack of urban noise,

Fearing burglaries would be irrational,
You couldn't fathom leaving doors unlocked,

If you didn't grow up in the desert,
You wouldn't miss the solitude,
The ironic paradox of being surrounded by life while feeling totally alone,

You couldn't tell the difference between a cholla and a prickly pear,
And know aloe vera isn't something you have to buy,

If you didn't grow up in the desert,
You wouldn't know how far a whisper travels,
And if you heard the call you'd recognize its voice

My iPhone background pic (Pops and Dylan showing their love)

2011-07-17T18:08:00.000-04:00

Lesser of Two Evils??

2011-07-11T23:16:00.000-04:00

Sooner or later, I'll be detailing my interpretation of 'the lesser of two evils' argument that has got to be discarded (specifically when applied to votes for President and Congress). I think it's a false dichotomy and I generally reject it.

But while devouring some Chipotle today (after a 50 mile grueling bike ride where I bonked at the 30 mile marker) I was scanning the conservative rag Washington Times (where awful is standard) and was confronted with an article that gave me the perfect lesser of two evils quandary. The article in question is about an upcoming Senate vote in Australia that would ban Muslim women from covering their faces in public. It would penalize them $5,000 and sentence them up to as long as 12 months in prison. Yes, I'm serious.

This one sucks.

The Muslim blankets, I mean attire, is inherently and intentionally oppressive of women. I've read progressive folks who disagree with that assessment as culturally prejudiced, but it's just how I feel. Women should have autonomy over their clothing choices and should be free to dress themselves as revealing (or not) as they care to. It boils down to freedom, do they have the freedom to choose? Yes, or no?

Of course, many, many women probably do have the freedom to choose (meaning they're not intimidated by the misogynistic men in their community (house)) and elect to wear the traditional garb. In my mind, this is still symbolic of years of brainwashing of theology rammed down their throats, where even though (from the outset) it looks as if they have a choice, in reality, they're just adhering to their primitive ingrained religion (not to single out Islam - Christianity and Judaism are just as bad!!). In essence, their decisions are already made for them, as religion is thoroughly seeped in their skulls that they cannot make a decision without first consulting said religion. A prison in their own mind.

Back to the law, I am vehemently against the legislature for even considering this. It is overtly discriminatory, a reckless overreach of governmental powers. It revokes a right that doesn't affect others, and targets a minority group disproportionately. It's an egregious civil liberty intrusion. THE GOVERNMENT SHOULD NOT HAVE THE AUTHORITY TO IMPLEMENT THIS. That needed emphasis, because it blows my mind how much we allow others to control us.

So here I find myself siding with religion after all (odd for me). I still believe that Muslim women deserve greater freedoms and shouldn't be forced and intimidated into wearing ridiculous clothing. But perhaps a Muslim reformation will come one day and feminism and women's rights will see the light of day.

BTW - as a sidenote - (your typical American...not you....right???) might endorse this law as preventing terrorism. Some cops have declared that it's a public safety issue and that's why it can be regulated. Specifically, people wary of Muslim suicide bombings have more reason to be afraid when we can't see if they're 'packing'. Just wanna say, you know, a quick way to influence people into BECOMING TERRORISTS? Make disproportionate laws against them! That's parable to what the USA has been doing for decades in the Middle East, and it's no wonder we're less safe and the Middle East has more terrorists, not fewer, after American invasions.

Life Updates...

2011-07-07T13:08:00.000-04:00

To keep you apprised of my happenings (since I'm so ridiculously important ;) ), I think it's time for an update. It's probably good for my mental state to reflect a bit and decompress from the whirlwind since I returned from Asia. And it might be good for you to laugh at how lame I've become in my quarter-century existence.

As you know, I'm interning full-time for DoDEA (Dept. of Defense Education Activity). The job thus far has been relatively uneventful (haven't shot anyone yet). People are friendly. I have a spacious desk on the 6th floor of a building that overlooks parts of Arlington, Virginia. My supervisor is a very kind woman who is lively and pleasant. She is currently on vacation and returns in less than a week. Soon I'll get to tour the Pentagon (yippee!!) and the Supreme Court and Capitol building with other summer interns. Many other interns in the building are from castaway regions of the country like San Francisco (ooooooo) and Minnesota (ahhhhhh). So for me it's not much of a treat (should anything not food related be considered a treat?), however as a resident of D.C. sometimes I forget to DO the touristy things because I'm here. Itt'l be a nice deviation from the monotony of office life and catch me up on the boobs working in other governmental buildings. And yes, I consider myself one of those boobs.

I've immersed myself in the religious transformation that is triathlons. I accomplished one race already, and have registered for two upcoming races. The first is another sprint (my name this time!) in Culpepper, Virginia. I figure it's nice to get another one under my belt before entering longer races (mainly to alleviate my fear of drowning). That race is the last day of July and is known as a challenging course.

Two weeks later I'll complete (I hope) my first Olympic Distance Tri. This one is near the Shenandoah Mountains in Luray, Virginia. This race will give me a true test of what it's like to endure the grueling conditions of prolonged pain (kinda like watching an episode of Grey's Anatomy). I'm looking forward to it and will be updating as they approach.

I've also registered for another 1/2 marathon in September with future aspirations of completing my first full marathon at the National Marathon in Washington, D.C in March. My goal time for the half is to break 1:30. Bold, but doable. Then I'll have approximately six months to train for a 3:00-3:10 marathon. Here's hoping. In the meantime I've procured all types of gizmos and gadgets (especially a bike and all that is needed to ride one - a F@#$ing lot in case you're unsure). It's astronomically expensive, however thankfully, Mom and Pops are willing financiers because fitness is paramount to both of them. (if TV was as important, they'd have saved a lottttttt of money..)

I've registered for classes for the fall, thus far I have five but am only allowed to enroll in three. Ideally, I will only take one or two, as I'd prefer to continue working/interning to make money and gain experience. Still have not heard from The Nation, but I'm hoping, at minimum, I get an interview (hire ME!).

I'm moving out of my place in Palisades (NW DC) at the end of this month. My landlord is none too pleased. Instead of shooing me out the door, she's practically begging me to stay (I told her I'd stay if it were free but she said that was an unfair bargain...oh well). But it's time for a change before the school year, hopefully a place with newer amenities, better lighting, and unfettered access to a spacious kitchen! My diet has improved immensely the past few months and I'm trying to cook more frequently. I've got my weight down slightly below 180, so I'm no longer a whale and feel great.

I've written some pages for my book. And delete them the following day. It's an agonizing process. What sounds good Wednesday is garbage by Friday. I know what I want to say, what's challenging is conveying it in a manner that's not overly sardonic. I have read authors whose angst is so present that it makes reading unbearable. So I'm trying to find an approach that allows me to maintain my voice while mollifying my inner loathing and resentment (is that possible??). Blogging is a welcome distraction.

I'm saving up for another trip, haven't decided where yet, but somewhere I haven't been internationally (ideally Portugal, Spain, or Latin America). I also have a free flight I may use in the next couple months to Chicago. I'd prefer to see Oregon, but Chicago seems more feasible and hopefully I can save up enough poppy seeds from the hot dog buns to cultivate some prime opium when I get back. (Kidding...I think)

That's all the interesting things I can think of, anything else you want to know, just ask. Thanks as always for your continued readership and comments. I get frustrated at times with the feedback or lack thereof, but my bite is temporary (I grew up in a family where arguments were encouraged). I've added a blogroll to the right -------> of sites I visit each day. Hopefully you find one or two you like. I also have considered allowing other readers (writers) to publish their thoughts on this blog as well. If anyone is interested, shoot me an email at cshap18@netscape.net.

FRREEEEDDDOOOMMMMMM!!!!!

2011-07-05T11:42:00.000-04:00

Hurrah! Yesterday was our Independence Day! A day of celebration, a day off from work, a day to reflect on a beautiful history of love, compassion and freedom.

Just to think, all this excitement and wonder rolled up into one holiday commemorating our emancipation from France. It was the Civil War, our troops battling valiantly as French soldiers invaded our land - pausing intermittently for numerous smoking breaks and to try on clothes at Express. It was only after our heroic military destruction and indiscriminate drone missiles were we able to ward off the French evildoers and send those pansies back to Pareey so they could daintily pick at their croissants and cheer on faggot Tour riders.

And then we immediately changed the menu at the food court in Congress to FREEDOM FRIES. Take that ya fashionistas!

And to marvel at the result. Our National Anthem blaring from the loudspeakers as politicians and military members pass out candy in parades. Buying our patriotism and idolatry through gustatory bribery - I mean highlighting the stupendous job they do overseas. Children waving the red, white, and blue demonstrating their early affection for blind adherence to the state! This is democracy, not like those commie bastards in China! In China they have parades and make everyone recite propaganda. In America....we do it voluntarily!!!!

And oh. My oh my. Our National Anthem. The only one in the world that talks the virtues of bombs!!! The other nations cower in their shells during this day, afraid to embrace the TRUTH! That the only way we got to where we are today was through uncountable civilian/military casualties. And we showcase this by elaborate displays of fireworks that fizzle and burst sometimes with disastrous results! Some children will lose limbs, some folks will lose their hearing, many will perish in horrific traffic accidents and alarming number of our fellow patriots will become so inebriated that they will beat their wives and end up in jail! What's America without a little sacrifice ladies and gents!?

After all, we don't have official holidays to promote peace/civility!!?? Who do you think we are, Switzerland?

All the hullabaloo elicits tears from my eyes (or it could be the smoke from the firecrackers). I watch as my children wave that flag proudly and I can't wait for the moment they join ROTC to fight the Palestinians in Iraq. Those Muslims, hating our freedom, not understanding that prolonged occupation, and murder by the US of A is in their OWN BEST INTEREST! Let's be honest with ourselves, they WANT us there!

Who wouldn't? Every place I've visited, Alabama, North Dakota, Nebraska, and all other countries across the world basically worship the USA. Flags everywhere. Even strange places like Manhattan and Austin have 'em. What more evidence do you need!? The writing's on the wall folks. You saw the fireworks. It's time for us to applaud the heroism that is so magnanimously earned by our righteous government, world savior.

God Bless the USA.