Usually when I work out a lot, I want to eat all the time. I think I’m usually craving high calorie foods as well, and that means lots of stuff that’s bad for me. But let’s be honest, anything with any flavor is bad for you. Lately, though, I’ve been eating less and getting by with salads. Why? I don’t know. Maybe I hit my head at the gym and I can’t remember it because I hit my head. Nothing hurts, though, so I’m fairly sure that’s not it.
Even my dinner, while not on the “Zone Diet” that’s promoted by Crossfit, wasn’t all that much. I usually don’t like cooking for just myself because I’ve always found a way to hurt myself in the kitchen. Today I had 2 tortillas with peanut butter. It’s space-station astronaut food that I heard about on NPR. Also, you can’t use all that much peanut butter on a tortilla or it gets stuck in your mouth. I had that and a dented up banana, because that’s all you can find late on a Thursday at Trader Joe’s. Oh, and a hard-boiled egg, because boiling water really isn’t cooking, and besides, I bought a egg boiling gadget on Amazon.
Funny how I’m not starving at work, either. I’m not sure this hard-boiled egg and banana diet is going to hold out. Sooner or later I’m going to end up at Jack-in-the-Box talking into the clowns mouth. I suppose you don’t have to do that any more, but WHEN I WAS A KID, YOU HAD TO TALK INTO THE CLOWNS MOUTH IN THE DRIVE-THROUGH. There are rumors that In-N-Out is coming to Portland, but I can’t possibly wait that long.
I went to a Korean hamburger joint today and I had a chicken salad. I figured I might luck out and get something decent like we have in my neighborhood. Bonnie Burgers is about half Asian food and half hamburgers and the grilled chicken they use is pretty good. Unfortunately, the place I went in Hillsboro is mainly a hamburger place and has a bit of other stuff thrown in. The chicken tasted quite processed like it was stuff that came from weird parts of the bird. Sort of like what you hear about hotdogs. In any case, I’m getting a salmon burger next time I go. Unless of course I’ve fallen off the wagon at that point.
So not listening at the gym is probably going to be the end of me. I thought I heard we weren’t doing “Fran” tomorrow, and I made sure I got my knees to my elbows in the exercise called, “Knees to elbows.” It sucked. Turns out that the earlier class isn’t doing “Fran”, but we still are. And here I am, editing my blog like a chump instead of going to sleep early.
Proof of my goofiness from last night.
Note the bright white skin and the protective layer of fat that are used to ward off enemies.
Which reminds me, when I was in Japan a guy told me, “You Kansai people are all alike. Trying to make sure you amuse people.”
I think I was trying to do a pullup at this point, but that doesn’t look quite right now, does it?
Today the workout of the day at the gym was max pullups and max pushups and then 3 minutes of rest. Then we did it again. And again. We did this once before but we had FIVE rounds of this. It only takes about two rounds for my forearms to start hurting. Unfortunately, I wore a t-shirt that I knew was unsuitable for pushups. You see, I’m a big sweater and the t-shirt I wore flops over my mouth when I do pushups. It’s hard to breathe through wet cotton.
So I had to take off my shirt in the middle of the workout and boy did I get comments about how pale I am. Well, I got comments after everyone quit laughing. I carefully maintain this pallor to blind my enemies. Dana the Trainer was laughing so hard she couldn’t do her pushups. She also suggested that I use some of her son’s press-on tattoos next time I pull this sort of stunt. That and a can of ManTan spray-on tan.
My mom left for Japan today and she’ll be gone for three weeks. That means I get to try my dietary experiment with “The Zone”. At least I’ll try it after I figure out what I’m supposed to be doing and after I finish the carnitas that were leftover from the gym party. Nothing better than pork. Unless it’s pork and bacon.
Ha HA! I started messing with my email server and I think I got it finished before midnight. A first for me! Usually I start screwing with my computer and hours later I’m tearing my hair out trying to figure out what I did wrong while wondering when I’m ever going to get to bed. Well, maybe we’ll find out that I didn’t actually “fix” things when I don’t get any email at all.
My timing at the gym appears to be a little off, too. Well, not about everything. I was there when the owner of St. Cupcake was there. Nothing is as attractive as a woman who makes red velvet cupcakes. My sister makes them too, and anyone will tell you she’s much better looking than I am. I know the owner of the cupcake store is married, but who doesn’t want to hang out with cupcake glitterati? It would only be better if there were bacon involved. But really, we were just doing a timed workout today: run around the block and then 21-15-9 reps of dumbbell clean and split jerks, then run around the block again. Believe me it’s hard. I’m getting tired just thinking about it.
In the earlier class I saw people going full-out and look like they were going to throw up from the exertion. On my first time around the block, I stopped to give some people directions to the Lucky Lab pub. Then I was saying hello to people I know from the other gym up the block and I was also chatting with the people I was running with. I again saw the people I gave directions to as I circled around the block and stopped to clarify my directions. I even had to run back because I realized I gave them the wrong street name. All this led to my being behind the Deputy District Attorney (another workout buddy who isn’t a yoot) and having to sprint at the very end of the workout to catch him. I didn’t come in first, but I think we were tied.
My sister will tell you that I talk too much and I talk even more when I’ve been drinking. This may be to my detriment as I end up chatting up people when I’m supposed to be working or working out. I suppose it’s my curse.
Oh, I was told today that we’re doing the “Fran” workout on Thursday. Every time I think about it, I start getting tense and I have to remind myself to breathe.
The weather was quite nice today, in the low 70’s, which is about as hot as a native Oregonian wants it to get. This is also the first nice day that my hay fever wasn’t killing me. This meant I had no excuse to let the grass grow any longer and I spent much of the day doing yardwork. It all still looks like hell, but a little better than when I started. The nice weather also meant that the neighbors started coming out again. I hadn’t seen many of them since last fall unless they were driving by in their cars.
I recall doing some work (the stuff I get paid for) but I was trying to remember what all I was doing that could be construed as “slacking.” I hooked up my Wii again, but I only played one round of “Mario Cart.” I finally remembered that I finished reading another mystery by Michael Connelly. I would have started on the other one I have by him, but I’m missing the book that comes in between the two. Good thing I have Amazon Prime.
So all in all, a lazy Sunday with a little bit of work. I only regained a little weight with all the beer I drank, so I guess I’d call it a success.
Who knew how much fun we could have seeing people from the gym actually wearing real clothes? Not just all gym clothes and stuff? It’s always fun drinking beer and eating guacamole, and extra fun when there’s hidden reserves of pork. (It was in the oven in case you left early and missed it.)
Other than that, Nathan (THH) thinks my graph is off. I could probably do fine making $350,000/year. Also, other people who are close to the other end of the graph think that I’m starting way too low on that end. I may think about it after I sleep off the beer I drank and then hose off my Wii since all the kids (and a retired cardiologist) spent so much time playing it. I just like hearing that it’s not just me, it is a lot of fun. 
I suck at video games. I guess they’re still fun, though. I’m playing things at the lowest levels and just barely winning. At least that means there’s lots harder levels if I get good at them. Right now I’m playing Mario Kart, which is a lot sillier and more fun than my daily commute. I guess I could really slow it down and play NPR and pretend it was my daily commute. Not sure why I’d want to do that, though.
The day I found out that I couldn’t afford to date anyway, my friend called and told me that there were Wii’s available at the Target by work. So I went out with some friends and got one at lunch. This also involved eating a hamburger at Dairy Queen and my justification was in two parts:
- I didn’t have to get cheese on the burger (thus maintaining my cheeseburger-less streak).
- Target is near the Dairy Queen.
Of course I didn’t leave work early, and I didn’t miss my workout at the gym so that makes me a bad geek who didn’t play with his brand-new Wii much. I could have skipped the gym since my legs are sore from squats and my chest is sore from pullups. I played a couple of miserable holes of golf and an easy race around the track with Mario Cart but that was the extent of my Wii-ing.
The gym’s blog has yet another spectacular picture of me.
Now I’m beginning to wonder if I’d need to make a lot more than $10,000,000/year to go out with a 34-year-old.
I’m trying to decide what my “target weight” should be. I know it’s less than what I have, but not sure how much less. A couple of guys at work are shooting for 20lbs in 20 weeks and they have about 60 pounds on me already, I think. In any case, my ultra-accurate bathroom scale (a relic of the 1960’s) tells me I weigh about a pound less a few hours after dinner. The only thing I’ve been doing in that time is watching TV and moving my mouse around, so I’m figuring I’m getting a really good burn from computer use. OK, so I probably go to the bathroom, but I’d have to lose like a pint of liquid to lose a pound there. Maybe I need a better scale.
I spent a bunch of time trying to make a graph of how many years I’d have to wait for someone lower than my “dateable age” to make it to my “dateable range”. It’s really just about the math, because let’s face it, I’d have to be a lot richer to get anyone that young to go out with me. I work out in the suburbs and a 38YO woman requires a median income of at least $80K/year to pronounce you dateable (from my friend’s Yahoo profile). I kind of figure I’d have to be a multimillionaire to go out with a 18-year-old, so let’s just figure an income about $50,000,000 per year like a Formula One race car driver.
Obviously there’s something wrong with my math because I’d have to make $5,000,000 a year to date a 36-year-old. Or maybe not. Numbers don’t lie.
Well, my computer has crashed once from my graph-making and it’s late. However, I will insert another disturbing graph which shows if I wanted to go out with a 27-year-old, I’d have to wait five years (and make $28,000,000 a year according to graph #1). Yeah, it goes all the way down to 18, but I don’t have that kind of time or make that kind of money (or have that kind of patience to listen to 18-year-olds).
I guess I’m very very close to being at the gym more than anyone else (besides Nathan, The Head Honcho), but one of the yoots has been there the same number of times I have. Nurse Tiffany is going to beat me if I don’t watch it. She’s only 23, though, and pretty darn strong. And she speeds through things much faster than me. For example, her web site says she types 94 words a minute. And me?
64 words
Speedtest
So she’s one and a half times faster than me, and probably just as much faster at all the workouts at the gym. But then again, I’m a member of Team DFL (Dead Effing Last, for those who don’t remember). But lucky me, yoots like vacations and I think she’s gone tomorrow, the last day of the month. I may win after all!
In other news, I thought I’d figure out how much I should weigh and my body mass index is about 26, or “overweight.” I read how that’s not the most accurate measure of fitness, just easy to calculate. So I looked at my hip-to-waist ratio and it’s about 0.95, or “big load” and this is after losing 6 pounds. Either I have to get my waist smaller or I have to get my narrow Asian ass bigger. Maybe I should just quit measuring things.
Well, anyone who knows me knows that I’m always doing something stupid on my computer, especially when I should be sleeping. I didn’t sleep all that well last night and woke up repeatedly. This made for a joyful Monday at work, where first thing in the morning I have a customer meeting where I’m told what a disappointment I happen to be. But back to my poor sleep, I think the nice weather just made for more plant sex and that triggered my hay fever. I woke up because the inside of my head was itchy. If I could have scratched my ear canal with something nice and poky and cool like, say, a Phillips screwdriver I had left in the refrigerator, I think I would have given it a try. But I really don’t think I would have made it out of my 20’s if I was trying things like that.
If I really was on a diet, and not just a cheeseburger avoidance exercise, I would have really blown it this weekend. Carolyn was in town from Chicago and I had to go out to dinner with the group. I suppose the swordfish the first night wasn’t so bad, but the lasagna and the leftover bits of my sister’s chicken parmigiana were probably a little much. Oh, and then there was the beer drinking, but I was drinking with the fit yoots from the gym and, heck, the drinking works for them so I figured I’d give it a try. And finally I went to my co-worker’s open house on Sunday afternoon. I couldn’t insult his wife by not eating the high calorie nibbly bits, could I?
