Burn Baby Biceps Burn

Started spinning. No not in circles to get dizzy, as much fun as that sounds, but the stationary bike kind. A relatively new place called Revolution Spin opened not far from my house. For years a part of my brain told me that I should do this during the long winter between biking seasons. Didn’t do that but I did start this summer.

Began with straight forward Level l spin class. Kicked my butt!! Breathing heavy from minute 1 through minute 40. After a few times I wanted more pain. Fortunately they have hour-long spin and stretch and core and spin and strength classes. Two days after the spina and core, my stomach muscles wailed in pain. I thought no class could be worse. Then I did spin and strength.

Both classes are taught by Tyrone, an ex-Marine who does an excellent job of motivating through a combination of encouragement and embarrassment. He drives the 40 minute spin extra hard since we are not getting a full hour of that. I wait until long after class for my breath to catch up. But then on to the 20 minutes of free weights. Not high numbers of pounds but very high numbers of reps. Until you feel the burn and then your burn burns.

Admittedly,  weights are a small part of my already minimal workout routine. I can go weeks, even months without touching weights. That meant that the gap between this intense workout and my readiness for it was off the charts. And yet I pushed as hard as I could.

Later that day I felt a bit sore but that’s good right? Let’s call that Day Zero. Day One my biceps screamed with pain. They throbbed the whole day. I could barely lift a fork. Day Two was actually worse. The pain level held while my arms were stuck at a 45 degree angle.  Any attempt to straighten them out caused waves of sharp and intense pain through my arms.

This lasted all through Day 5. Yes 5.  I am not the most fun, upbeat guy to start with. When in pain, serious pain, I make Attila the Hun seem like a sweetheart.  5 friggin’ days. Slowly I finally regained use of my arms. 

Yes I will probably take this class again. I will take the time to prepare by touching weights in advance…and have a morphine drip on call.

Minor Characters

You know how sometimes in a play or movie there are these characters with minor roles that greatly enhance the show?

On a recent business trip to NY I encountered three people who struck me in an odd way.  I was overcome with this sense that in the movie of my life, or more appropriately the movie that is my life, in a two-day period I happened upon three people who would have made the final credits though towards the bottom of the list.  More than  extras but less than leading or supporting roles.  They all had small speaking parts in scenes that helped the audience, if there had been one, understand me as a person and added more than mere plot.  Let me present them in order of appearance.

The first is “Elevator Man”. As the scene opens I am in my hotel room dressing for dinner with clients at a nice restaurants. Though I am a blue jeans and T Shirt kind of guy I need to be in a suit for this event.  As I wait for the elevator i lament that I need to be dressed in more than business casual attire.  As the elevator door opens I smile and shake my head. The only other passenger is a guy in his 50s (I am guessing) medium height, thinning dark hair, with the air of an executive but the clothes a casual m. He was in a V neck sweatshirt with a deep V and no shirt underneath, a running jacket and blue jeans  (OK the jeans were designer and probably cost more than several pairs of my Levis). I had to say something. “That is how I wish I was dressed.” He glanced over at me and said, “I was dressed like you all day. You must still be on the job. ”  “Yeah. Business dinner.” As the elevator reached the lobby we exchanged, have a good nights and he headed to the door. I met my client in the lobby. The screen goes dark.

Next meet, Young Italian Lawyer.   In order to get into the place we wanted to have dinner that night we needed clout. Clout came in the form of the law firm that hosted my client’s meeting those two days. Three of us walked out of our hotel and headed to the law offices in order to meet Joseph, the young lawyer who was low enough on the totem pole that he got assigned to walk the clients to the restaurant , flash the firm’s special membership card and then leave. We joked that this would be the easiest chargeable hour he had in a long time.

To our pleasant surprise “Joe”, not Joseph, was personable and interesting. He shared stories of how his firm was representing NBA players in the lockout and that in his prior job he had assisted in negotiating the contract of some famous NY Jets player. He was tall, slender, good-looking and dressed like a fashionable young lawyer. He was not the least bit down at having this menial late night task. We had a modestly long walk together and he both entertained and listened.  We offered to at least share a drink if not dinner but he politely excused himself.  His job was done and he would not intrude.  The restaurant was fun, the food good and the wine excellent. Yet Joe was the hit of the night.

On the plane ride home the odds rolled in my favor. Not only did i get on an earlier flight but so did my client and by the longest of odds we found ourselves seated next to each other on the plane. At this point I need to mention that she is one of my favorite clients. Both good at what she does and fun to be with. We were in the window and center seats which left the aisle seat to be filled. Let me introduce Aisle Guy.

This client and I regularly joke back and forth. Aisle guy jumped right in as if we had known him for years. If this had been a serious private conversation that might have been annoying and a bit rude. I suspect Aisle Guy only took the initiative because the conversation was light and barbs were being tossed right and left.  By the end of the flight we knew that he was in sales, the company he worked for, what part of NY he lived in and lots about his twin girls. Pictures were shared.

Over the years i have interacted with hundreds if not thousands of these minor characters. I am not sure why these three brought this theme to my mind. All I can say is that they made the movie better.

9 Is Not 15

Alternative Title, “Don’t Sit Across From A Mirror In The Locker Room”.

From the beginning. Fifty-one days ago I set a goal to lose 15 pounds in 50 days by 55. Saturday was 50 days and the completion of my 55th year on the planet. At the time the goal seemed challenging but reasonable…and necessary. The time passed but too many of the pounds stayed.

Yes, losing 9 pounds is “better than nothing” however, I have always thought this was a poor standard and something people say because they think it will make you feel better even though it never makes them feel better when they hear it from someone else. I do feel and look better with 9 less pounds but I am not where I want to be. So what went wrong?

Well, everything and nothing. The nothing. I said from the start that I intended to lose weight in a way that I could maintain. I did not want to take anything or do anything that once I stopped the weight would return. That I have done. The good news. I dramatically cut my processed sugar intake. Using fruit as a substitute I gave up candy, cake, etc. for 5 weeks. I weakened in the last two weeks but I can come back from that. Prior to that I would have something with lots of sugar most days. Candy bars and  muffins topped the list. I also cut down my caffeinated coffee intake from 5 to 3 cups a week. I expected these two changes plus some added exercise  to be worth close to 15 pounds over 50 days. No such luck.

The everything. I cannot stop eating. The quality has generally been better (more fruits and veggies, lower fat) but if I have one portion then I have three. Not sure what drives that behavior. Rationally I say every day, before every eating opportunity, that I will exercise self-control. But in the heat of the moment something evil takes over my brain. It isn’t even like the cartoons with the devil on one shoulder and an angel on another — there is no angel.

I know people with amazing self-control. They are goal oriented. They do what they say they will do. Apparently that is not me. Darn

So I am working toward my next goal. By Mitch’s birthday, exactly one month after mine, I will drop the six pounds I wanted off in the first place. The sad thing is that to get to where I was just 5 years ago I have several pounds after that. Baby steps. (Remember the movie “What About Bob” with Bill Murray. Hilarious. But I digress.)

Onward and downward. Off with the waist. Getting rid of my Fat Wish (some people have a death wish, mine is a little different.)

…Well you get the point. Check in around July 18. Maybe I’ll do pictures. Maybe.

I’M Sick Of It

In my day, the olden days, sometimes people just got sick. Now everything is a syndrome or disorder with a strange name and probably some acronym. I am sick of these. Of course for every syndrome there is a pill — typically with side effects that would keep me from ever using the cure.

Today I read about a new one that tops all that came before it.  POIS. I am sure you must have heard of it. No? It stands for post-orgasmic illness syndrome (I told you that they are all syndromes).

What are the symptoms of PIOS you ask? As described in an article in the Chicago Tribune, POIS is when men are allergic to their own semen, developing a mysterious flu-like illness after they have an ejaculation. Seriously? I do not intend to make light of the poor schmucks who suffer from this debilitating illness. Symptoms include feverishness, runny nose, extreme fatigue and burning eyes, which can last for up to a week.

No, I come to make fun of the researchers in the Netherlands who found these men and chose to study them only to come up with some asinine name like post-orgasmic illness syndrome.

Is there any illness left to discover and name. I get it with astronomers naming planets and stars…but illnesses.

I long for the good old days when you could just be sick.

The Dick Van Dyke Show And Me

In an interview, Dick Van Dyke proclaimed that of all of the movies and TV work he is known for, his days making the Dick Van Dyke Show were the most fun.

That the cast was having fun certainly came through. I have wonderful memories of that show. How could you not laugh hysterically with Dick, Laura, Sally, Buddy , Mel, Alan Brady and the rest of the cast. It integrated physical comedy, low brow one liners, a bit of high comedy and the occasional song and dance number delivered by characters you could relate to.

It only lasted 5 season because that comic genius Carl Reiner was concerned that the show could get stale. How different from today’s “squeeze every last moment’ (read dollar) from a TV show.

So, how does this wonderful TV history involve me? I had a good year at work this year. I worked myself to near-death but it paid of in a decent bonus. I wanted to reward myself with a treat. The BIG treat will be a digital SLR if I ever figure out what to buy. In the meantime I went looking for something small. I decided that I wanted, no needed, The DVD Show complete series. I had looked at this from time to time over the years. It lists for about $250. I would not spend that much.

The day after Christmas was the first day I had time to internet shop. Sure enough it was on sale at Amazon for $115. Still a little high but this was by definition a treat. I dropped it in my virtual shopping cart along with some other items. I did not push the buy button because I was still figuring out what camera to add. Anyways, if it was on sale the day after Christmas it would be on sale for the week. Right? Wrong! Two days later it was up to $165 and another day later to $183 where it sits today. Too rich for my blood.

I brooded for days. I kept checking the price, sometimes more than once a day. No change. I did not have the heart to search for another treat. I had chosen this.

Pricing in retail makes little sense to me. The same item can be worth very different amounts in a heart beat. Why is that? Why would the retailer not give you the lower price the next day if you asked. I could not find a way on the Amazon website to even ask.

Then serendipity intervened. After 10 days of checking the prices on the complete series package, I noticed that Amazon cut the price in half of the individual seasons. Add it up. I could now get all five seasons individually for a total of $96 or the complete set for $183. I ordered the five seasons as fast as I could click.

They arrived a couple of days ago. The big decision now is whether to start with the very first episode or the pilot which was named “Head of the Family” and starred Carl Reiner. 25 disks to go. I am thinking about having a DVD marathon party. 24/7. Anyone interested?

Now this is a treat.

ps. As I went went to YouTube to find the opening to add I find that you can find view episodes for free there. What a world.

Cold Day To Ride

The day began cold. At the time I hopped on my bike to go meet Ed it was 33 degrees (F).  I am certain that I have never ridden in colder weather. Why was I doing this now?

Actually the why part is easy. That was the day Ed was available, I like riding with Ed and Ed did one of those “are you a man” things to me. How could I resist?

It was really freakin’ cold. Other than the fahrenheit it was a beautiful autumn day. Sunny sky and hardly any wind. Except that the act of riding creates wind. It felt cold.

I reminded myself that there was a time when I would run in temps as low as 20 F as long as the wind was not too strong and it was not snowing at the time. Then I remembered that I was 25 years younger in those days.

Ok. How to dress. Leave as little uncovered skin as possible. Since the legs would be moving focus on keeping warm from the waist up.

Five layers from waist to neck. Light “wicking” long sleeve shirt as a base. Covered by a heavier base layer, a biking shirt (not much for heat but in honor of the event), a hooded sweatshirt (don’t use the hood but this helps provide next coverage, and a windbreaker. Running tights and bike shorts. Left the nylon windbreaking pants at home. Turned out to be the right call but only barely. Heavy pair of bike socks, full finger bike gloves, head covering that looks like a large yarmulke but also covers my ears under the helmet.

 Not sure at the start if this is enough but it was time to go. I bike 9 miles to where I meet Ed and I did not want him standing around in the cold. Initially I am chilled but it is manageable. By the 45 minutes it takes to meet Ed most of me is tolerably comfortable. The index fingers in both hands are truly cold. Can’t seem to warm them up. I wish I had mittens instead of gloves.

11 miles later we are in Lake Forest at our turning around point. Normally I do not like to take long breaks during rides but I insist on heading to Starbucks. By now my entire right hand feels like an ice-cube. It hurts.

A round of hot tea for all — all being Ed and me. There are other bikers in the place. Lake Forest is a wealthy north suburb of Chicago surrounded by other wealthy suburbs. I could not afford a house in that town. Maybe 1/3 of a house. The point being that while Ed and I have a hodgepodge of clothes on, these other bikers have hi-tech winter riding gear. From the fancy jackets to outsized riding shoes, (probably with electric, computer controlled warming devices inside — just a guess) they look ready for any weather.

As we warm up I suppress the urge to scream as my right hand thaws. The pain is intense. But the warm of the room and the tea does its magic. I am ready for the 20 miles back home. As a pleasant surprise, the temp has risen by several  degrees and the cold is not a problem for the remainder of the ride. The fact that I am out of shape and my leg muscles ache is another story for another post.

Of course, as I pen this post the next day, it has been a beautiful day with a high of sixty. Much better riding weather. But not as good of a story.

Beware of Flaming Turkeys

Thanksgiving for me has always been a day of too much food and too much family (we spend time with both sets of parents and siblings).  Uncomfortable yes (too much food) but never dangerous.

I guess I was wrong!

The Chicago Tribune reported that there were more cooking fires on Thanksgiving than any other day.  The increase has come as more people have decided to deep fry their turkeys without learning some of the basic rules. So before you ruin your holiday by burning down the house, there are some tips from the Chicago Tribune. This is my fav:

•Oil and water don’t mix. When ice comes into contact with hot oil, the water vaporizes, causing steam bubbles to pop and spray hot oil. So don’t fry a frozen turkey or use ice or water to cool oil or extinguish an oil fire. Use an extinguisher approved for cooking or grease fires and call 911.

One would hope that before using a fryer that the fryee would check out basics such as don’t throw in the turkey while frozen.  I also like the note to call 911 as your house burns to the ground. I first put this in the category of stupid instructions that you get with every instruction manual that assumes people have no intelligence or common sense. Then I thought about the mid-term elections and given the audience…

I hear turkey frying is most popular amongst tea partiers and conservative Republicans. That is not from the Trib. just a rumor I heard.

 

Government Bureaucracy Purgatory

It was time to renew my driver’s license. In fact I went last Monday, four days before it would expire.  I was going to be out-of-town for two of those days.  Now it was urgent. I had to take time away from work despite the pile of work that needed to get done before the end of the day.

Oh, and I had to take the written test. I needed to know the rules of the road. The Illinois rules of the road pamphlet is over 100 pages long. There are some items that I agree everyone should know and a refresher every few years is a good idea.  First one needs to know a myriad of distances by which you must take action, such as how far in advance of a corner to signal a turn (in a residential area or country road – the answers are different), stopping before a railroad crossing, etc. Then you need to know all of the signs. These fall into the “you should know this” category. But then there are the things I do not need to know about, such as where it is permitted to have car seats for infants (mine is 19), things about motorcycles (which I do not drive) and other arcane pieces of information. I had no time to have to take this test a second time. I studied for a couple of hours and prayed my memory would hold out.

So in I walk. I am stressed about the time this will take and  whether I will pass the test. I go to one of the suburban Department Of  Motor Vehicles locations because from experience and urban legend I know that doing this at a  Chicago one would take much longer. Still I am not prepared for a process that mirrors an old factory assembly line. A gauntlet of five stations must be run in order to obtain a license.

First is the line to get in. There is a triage station. A sleepy middle age to old man takes your forms and directs you to the next counter. You get a slip with a letter and three numbers. I am not sure why but for a few people in the line before me this process takes several minutes.

Then wait in some hard plastic chairs to be called by one of ten people manning the next station. After several more minutes I give my number and forms to the guy who looks up my name on the computer. I answer “no” to questions for which a yes answer would presumably bring my quest to a dead stop. Do I take any drugs or have any diseases  that would hinder my ability to drive? (No, I can drive while quite high thank you. Does anyone ever answer Yes to these questions?) I also take a visual exam at this station. At least something useful to weed out those that should not be driving.

On to the cashier. Like in a bad movie, the cashier needs to pause and count money and file some forms just as it becomes my turn in line. More waiting. I  pay and  get my exam. 20 multiple choice questions and I need to identify fifteen signs (No, the words are not written on the pictures of the signs. That would make it too easy to know which is the “Stop” sign.)

Bottom line is that I pass. Fortunately one only needs to answer 80% of the questions correctly.

On to the picture-taking. First step. Wait. Next step have picture taken. Third step. Wait. Last step take your license and run.

Total time, one hour twenty minutes that I did not have that day. Could have been worse. Purgatory, not hell.

Suburban Wildlife Run Amock

The near north suburbs of Chicago have little in common with the deep woods. And yet we have our own slice of wildlife. For example, there is a family of raccoons living in a tree in our backyard. The mother raccoon is huge and can be found outside our back door from time to time in the early evening. She looks mean and I would not want to accidentally surprise her as I walk from our garage to the house. Nothing good could come of that.

I have witnessed deer and a coyote  within a few miles north of our house. However right in my backyard except for the aforementioned raccoon, the creatures tend to be small. Squirrels dominate followed by birds and for the first time in the 15 years we have lived here, a chipmunk has recently appeared.

It all came to a head during the adventure hike I refer to as “the walk between my garage and the back door.” So here is what happened.

I take the first careful steps outside the sanctity of the garage. We have taken to making noises just like the park rangers tell you to as you hike through bear country. In our case, it is to avoid the mama raccoon.

Immediately I see a couple of squirrels on the ground 2 feet to the left of the back door. They seem to be agitatedly chattering. I stealth-fully, slowly moved ahead. Big Mistake. By focusing on the squirrels on the left I almost stepped on 3 other squirrel guys (or gals) directly in my path. That seemed to set off the fireworks.

Squirrels running at mach speed in all directions. There are three trees in the immediate area and the squirrels scattered to all. Quickly another 5 or six appeared and the next thing I knew for 3 solid minutes about a dozen squirrels were wildly chasing each other. It is hard to describe without video footage the mayhem that ensued. The motion, the noise level and the chaos were unbelievable!

To my right half way up one tree I thought I saw two squirrels mating. One was behind the other with his (I am assuming gender) paws holding fast to the middle of the body of the squirrel in front. The front squirrel however seemed to be pulling away as hard as it could with no success initially. Finally a third squirrel ran at the other two giving the front squirrel the break she needed. She escapes only to be chases by both of the other two squirrels down the tree, through some bushes and back up the tree. My best guess is that this was a squirrely menage-a-trois gone wrong.

Then as fast as the mayhem ensued, it was over. I stood for a moment stunned. I looked to see the chipmunk sitting on top of the gas meter on the south end of the house. Four feet higher was the robin sitting in the nest she had made in the curve of one of our drain pipes.

Sure why not nest there. It was a lot quieter than in the trees.

When Driving, No Make-Up, No Texting, No…Flossing?

Last night I was in the car waiting for the light to turn green when I casually glanced to my left. The woman behind the wheel  was intensely flossing her teeth. I am guessing that the rapid motion may have been due to the limited time until the light would change.

Now I have seen people do many things while behind the wheel including eating  food, putting on make-up, using their cell phones or reaching into the back seat to get something that they obviously could not live with until they exited the car.  This was my first flossing. Don’t get me wrong, I am a big believer in oral hygiene. I am just not sure that I would floss in my car — unless I was in a dark corner of  a parking lot maybe and the brisket that was stuck between my teeth was causing tremendous pain. And I was not disgusted by the act, it just seemed odd and unnecessary.

Admittedly the act could have been worse. She could have been driving while flossing. The thing is that I do not know if she does that as well as flossing at a stop light. The first behavior is strange enough so who knows.

My wife asked me if I would floss in public. I gave one of those flippant answers that I am famous for. You know, the throwaway comments that I never really give any thought to. So I said, “Sure, I do not care. I would do anything in public.” The regret grew intense the moment the last syllable was spoken. I knew exactly what she was thinking. Puerto Vallarta , 1993, on the rocks, a boat full of tourists goes by.

OK. Maybe not anything in public…certainly no flossing!