Catching up...or...Running behind?

Man, I don't know whether I'm coming or going lately. No not because life is a hectic rat race. Just the opposite and I'm doing my best to put the time to good use. Could still use a little more, but I'll work with what I've got. What's been going on? Gee, thanks for asking....ok, so you don't have much choice when I'm the one typing what you say.

We begin Little League this week, if the rain holds off. Jared is learning the necessary skills, and seems to be enjoying it when Dad isn't preaching and teaching and pushing and... I'm getting better, but I do have relapses. I've played baseball or softball nearly non-stop for 30 summers, and Jina played four years of varsity in High School, so baseball is near and dear to our hearts...we're hoping the boys take to it as well, but if not, we decided long ago to support them in whatever they choose to do.

Summer means camping, which means breaking out our classic RV. Now when you're a thirty three year old RV, you're bound to need something each year. She cranked up fine after sitting all winter (the RV, not Jina) and finding no immediate must fix issues, I've started sprucing up the bathroom to make it less dreary and a little more appealing to be utilized as a true bathroom space and not just a port-a-pot/shower station. We've got two planned trips already and were excited to learn Jared's ball season will end before we begin camping season in ernest.

All this leads me to the excercise/running portion of my life. Last week's diet was pretty bad. Healthy was not on the menu for our meetings. Also, about 85 percent of us picked up a nasty virus that hit us, with one exception, after we returned home. That put a damper on any long run last weekend, but I did manage to keep my overall weekly miles up with a 4 mile run on the treadmill Sunday morning.

This morning I warmed up for one mile on the treadmill and then did another 2.25 through the neighborhood with my hammy yelling at me to stop the entire time. I did not enjoy the run and I actually found myself dreading the upcoming KDF Mini. Should I run a race I'm not totally commited to this year. On that Saturday, Jared has a ball game at 10 am, Jina has a wedding shower to set up...which means no matter how drained...I've got the kiddos all afternoon. Is it worth it? This year I just don't know? I'm going to keep logging the long run with my partners in crime, but I've got to get off the fence soon and get my head around this race!

Anyway, the past couple weeks training seems to continue to pay dividends and this weekend will be time for another APFT test, so will see if I can get the push up score up and improve overall.

That's about it, time to shut down, board a flight and log a run in a new place..Jackson, MS.

Saturday

Got up, couldn't make up my mind whether to run or wait for the Y to open.

Boys woke up before I got out the door, all hungry, fixed them breakfast and woke Jina up.
Now I'm not motivated at all to go. Decide to give her the chance to run on the road this morning. (Yeeaaaa! Good job girl...she set a PR for a training mile time).

I opted for the treadmill. Decided to do my run to mimic the Mini course as best as I could remember and guestimate. Did 8 miles. Hammy was nagging at me. Iced it as soon as I got of the treadmill. Really helped. Wish I had that option everyday.

Only disappointment, my weight gain in week one was all water weight. After my run this morning I weighed before rehydrating. Yep it was all gone. Oh well, I'm still happy!

Have a good week. Probably be late in the week before I get back on here to post.

J17W Update

5 days under my belt.

I backed off of running after Tuesday morning to allow a hammy to mend. Been Biking instead.

Never have reached my daily calorie intake goals. Find myself consuming some "not bad", but not "ideal" calories each evening. Little League and school spring festivals made dinner a "How much can you swallow in 5 to 10 minutes?" ritual for the first four nights of the week.

No running has meant I'm not partially dehydrated everyday. This, and hopefully some muscle gain has meant a 3 to 4 pound weight gain this week. Stepping on the scales has been rough. After 3 years of losing or maintaining weight, convincing your mind that it is OK for the scale to tick up a bit is hard. Currently I'm telling my brain..."If the jeans still fit, we're OK,...it listens sometimes.

My workouts were pretty traditional in nature. Monday was chest and arms (Bench, Incline Bench, Flys, Curls, Dips). Tuesday was back and shoulders (Shrugs, Military Press, Seated row, Pull ups, Dumbbell rows). Wednesday was chest and arms again. Thursday repeat of Tuesday. This morning was chest and arms and some squats thrown. 3 to 6 miles of riding the bike for cardio Wed. Thur. and Fri.

I was pleased with the weights that I was working out with this morning. At the start of the year, I was doing my heaviest sets at about 5 to 10 lbs below my body weight. Now my heaviest sets are at around 10 to 20 lbs over my body weight.

I'm still debating what to do tomorrow. A calisthenics style circuit routine or a long run.

Anyhow, that is week one. On Sunday I travel for a meeting, OK, actually Sunday is the golf outing, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday are meetings. The room accommodations have full kitchens and I'm familiar with YMCA there, so hopefully, although it will be on short sleep, I'll be able to keep up with my routine through next week.

American Idol

OK,



Have to vent. As a country music fan, I was mortified by some of the performances, but I came away with one burning question.



Why did I hear the Ozzy Osbourne/Boy George impersonator sing a classic accompanied by Indian Scitars, while the guy who appears to be Indian turned in as very strong performance in flawless English?



Actually, none of this is relevant or important, but I had to ask. It is disappointing that they allowed some iconic, classic songs be butchered without comments like....



"Yo, Dawg, you know if you're going to do a Whitney song, well, Dawg, look, you know, I mean can't nobody sing it like Whitney, so you know, you just shouldn't go there, I mean, you know Dawg it just ain't a safe bet..."



Same can be said in country music for Dolly, Patsy, Willie, and Johnny.



Next week, perhaps we'll get to hear pop music versions of Back in Black, You Shook Me, Pink Houses, Jump, and Walk this Way.



I probably should travel again, staying at home and watching this stuff is turning my mind to mush. As evidenced by this blog post.



G'night!

J17W

OK,

You've probably seen the commercials for the P90X program. I've heard good things about it, but for now, I've got 17 days of either no travel or travel that should allow me to focus on a)eating enough good calories to support muscle gain and b)access to enough equipment to lift in quantity and in quality.

So, I'm starting the J17W plan as of this morning. After 2 years of watching what I eat, it is actually kind of tough to switch to eating an increased calorie load to hopefully fuel some muscle gain.

Today's diet so far = Oatmeal w/ dried fruit and bannana before heading to the gym. A protein bar (30g of protein) after, Ham and Cheese sandwhich, fresh broccoli (uncooked) and 2 celery w/ peanut butter, afternoon was a Power Bar (smoothie flavor-nasty, but cheap on clearance) and an apple. My notes give me an estimated 1320 calories before dinner. I'm guessing I need to get up to around 3000 per day minimum, especially with burning between 400 and 600 doing cardio each morning. Yes I know I should probably drop the cardio to two days a week, but I'm more concerned about keeping my heart healthy than gaining mass, so either I'll figure out a way to do both, or I just want gain.

I'll keep you posted.

"Houston We Have a Problem"..or.."The Easy Button"

A long time ago in galaxy far far away a proud race built for itself a mighty star ship, the likes of which had never been seen, and staffed it with their best officers.

Captain N. E. Way was beloved by all who served with him. Captain Way was a "the ends justifies the means" type of guy who didn't care what those below him did, confident that they were all on the same mission, with the same goal, and if they each followed a different action plan, so much the better, they'd still get there and morale would be high when they did.

A gifted woman was assigned as the mighty ship's first mate. Bygude Werkz had, since her first day at Star Fleet Academy, demonstrated an ability to always be in the right place at the right time to lend a helping hand. Even more impressive, she never seemed to tire. Everyone marvelled and envied her for her confidence that hard work, especially when it helped others, would always win the day.

The ship's engineer was a brilliant man. Dr. I. B. Smart had graduated at the top of every class he had ever taken. He had dedicated years to the study of such things as rocket design, jet propulsion, spacecraft systems, physics and mathematics, not to mention any number of obscure sciences which he had learned and applied to the solve the most perplexing of problems and questions.

While the reputation and exploits of the crew were well documented, the ship and and one of its systems was another story all together. You see what made this ship radically different from those that proceeded it, was its life support system, or more accurately, its life saving system.

The system was intriguing in its simplicity and amazing in its ability to save a ship. The system didn't guarantee that the ship wouldn't be damaged, but it did guarantee the ship's survival, sparing it from complete and total destruction. All of this at the touch of the "button".

The crew was told about the life saving system, shown the "button", supplies were loaded, engines were lit, and the great ship rocketed into space on its maiden voyage.

As is likely to happen on such an epic journey, trouble befell the ship. Not too far into the mission, the crew found itself faced by its first challenge, a meteor shower. The meteors proved to be not very large, and the damage to the craft was light, repairs were made, and proud and confident in their own abilities and skills, the crew pressed on. Now what you may, or may not know about space is that the deeper you go, the more serious the dangers and daunting the challenges. The crew's orders called for them to travel to the furthest reaches of the universe.

Deep into the mission, far away from the space dock where the mighty vessel was first dreamed up and built, she found herself battered and damaged by the ravages of space travel, but Captain Way and his officers remained confident and proud of their skills and abilities. Time and again the captain had applied his approach to command. Happy with this freedom to deal with things however they saw fit, First Mate Werkz had, through hard work, been able to make any repairs necessary to save the ship, and everyone marvelled at Dr. Smart's ability to think and reason through any problem and provide the right answers. Well even if they weren't right, at least they seemed to work and no one dared to question them.

In this manner the mission continued until that fateful day or night, who can tell in space, when the ship and her crew found themselves locked in the ultimate battle for survival. Systems were failing, despair gripped the crew and all appeared lost. That's when the ship's leaders remembered the "button".

Captain N. E. Way considered giving the order to push the "button", but wavered, "How could he? If he gave the order to push the button, wouldn't he be admitting that it was the only way to save the ship, and might that upset his officers?" First Mate Werkz efforts had save them up until now, "Could he now say that her hard work wasn't sufficient?" Likewise, Dr. Smart had reasoned and researched and eventually solved tough issues in the past, "Who was he to say he wouldn't this time, or that they didn't have enough time for the Doctor to think things through?"

Now one thing you have to give First Mate Bygude Werkz credit for, she was a worker. She remembered the "button", but didn't have time to stop and press it. She had work to do. "Let someone else push the "button", I'll save the ship through sheer will power.", she thought to herself. Besides, pushing the button would have been much too easy and would not have impressed anyone, given her a sense of accomplishments, and earned her another "at-a-boy" on her service record.

Dr. I. B. Smart didn't forget anything. He could still remember and recite the first ten words he had ever been required to spell, on his very first spelling test, in his very first year in school. There is no doubt that he remembered the "button". Dr. Smart remembered the "button" alright, but the thought of its very existence angered him. The concept was much too simple. "Push the "button", save the ship. Where was the enlightenment in that?" No that wouldn't do. Not for I. B Smart, PhD. Given time he knew he could reason out the processes and procedures by which the ship could and would be saved.

As the Captain waited, as the First Mate worked, and as the Doctor pondered, the mighty ship met her fate. All the while the "button" sat in front of them, waiting to be pushed, in its own mechanized way, wanting to be pushed. As the once proud ship was destroyed it disintegrated, vaporized, and all record of its existence disappeared. All except for one. The Captain would not have believed that only one of the ships systems was capable of surviving. First Mate Werkz would never have allowed herself to consider that her handiwork wouldn't hold up and Dr. Smart would have never rationalized that all evidence of the systems he had studied and understood so well would disappear. You see, the solution he deemed "simple and unenlightened", the system that Werkz considered "too easy" and the Captain refused to define as their "only chance" would survive unscathed waiting to be found. That's right, when the mighty ship and her magnificent crew were gone. The "button" remained.

John 14:6 (NIV)
6Jesus answered, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.
Ephesians 2:8-9 (NIV)
8For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— 9not by works, so that no one can boast.

The Destruction of a Temple

A congregation was looking for a place to hold their services. A wealthy benefactor decided to help out and presented them with a brand new building, free and clear.

The congregation moved in and things went well for several years. Then things began to change. As the congregation grew, the building aged. A well meaning trustee was able to purchase a bulk quantity of light bulbs at a great price. Unfortunately they were those wonderful yellow outdoor patio bulbs, and as more and more of the original bulbs burned out and were replaced with the "patio" bulbs, which were readily available and easy to grab a hold of in a hurry, the sanctuary began to take on a dim and dingy appearance.

At some point in time, the decision was made that the beautiful stained glass windows filtered too much of the "natural" light and so the stained glass was removed to let in as much "light" as possible. No one stopped to consider that the stained glass windows were not just ornamental, but actually filtered harmful UV rays and the new and improved natural lighting began to age and deteriorate the once brilliant carpet and natural woodwork.

Now, as previously mentioned, the congregation had been growing, and additional seating was needed in the sanctuary. On a whim, someone brought in a used couch one Sunday morning to provide additional seating. Some thought this a great idea. Wow! They thought. The new seating added a fun atmosphere,was really progressive, and so more and more people brought in their discarded furnishings. Pretty soon, the sanctuary became cramped and looked like a frat house or perhaps a furniture graveyard.

Sometime, no one is absolutely sure because it passed gradually and unnoticed, fewer and fewer people attended services. At first the decline was written off as the natural life cycle of an aging congregation. When that explanation was no longer satisfactory, a few improvements were attempted.

Some of the lights were replaced, but when no immediate results were realized, it was decided that the investment was too great and the return not sufficient. Some of the old couches were tossed, but were quickly replaced with other accumulated items within months. As for the windows, there was a half hearted effort to do something about them, but the thought of losing all the "natural lighting" wasn't entirely appealing, and besides, it added some brightness to the dull glow produced by the "patio" bulbs.

Eventually, the church's doors shut for the last time. Its once wonderful sanctuary chocked full of "junk", its enlightening windows pouring natural light into a barren room and deteriorating its once glorious and ornate interior, and its once brilliant lighting, now almost entirely replaced by the "patio glow", was dark and dismal.

It is said that shortly afterward, the wealthy benefactor returned, looked upon the once proud building, now in full decay and death, and simply wept at what was lost.

1 Corinthians 6:19-20 (New International Version)
19Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; 20you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body.

Running Scared

I changed the look of my blog as well as the description under the title when I decided that I needed or perhaps wanted to write about some topics I didn't think fit well with my original blog's content and intent. My weekend rant concerning Dr. Mohler is one example. I wrote it to get something off my chest, and while I'm not inclined to retract my comments, since they represent my honest feelings and opinion, I am conflicted by the notion that my rant was little more than the same "puffery" and grandstanding that I intended to criticize.

Luke 6:42 (New International Version)
42How can you say to your brother,
'Brother, let me take the speck out of your eye,' when you yourself fail to see
the plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your eye,
and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye.

Anyway, to the point of today's blog. Under my blog's title, I added, "Because it Beats Running Scared". For some reason, running scared has crept into my consciousness recently. I've become more aware of my own mortality, and honestly, it is scary at times.

In the last week we've learned of a 34 year old acquaintance with inoperable cancer and an estimated 6 months to live. A visit to a friend's blog tonight revealed a request for prayer for her little brother who has been diagnosed with cancer, and since she is, I believe, 29 for the second time, he's still in his twenties. Throw in the plane crash in Amsterdam and my six separate flights this week and I start getting antsy.

At dinner Sunday night, after we said a blessing and started to eat, my 7 year old starting asking us if we had any prayer requests. After we answered, he said, "OK dad, you pray." As I prayed I asked God to protect my family while I travelled, acknowledging that even when I'm home I must rely on his grace and mercy, because there is, despite my wishes otherwise, very little that I can protect my family from.

Now while this might sound great and wonderful, woohoo, "James is a great Christian who trusts God in all things", truth is, I don't like it. I want to be "bullet proof" like I thought I was when I was 20. I don't want the thoughts of "What if..." and "What would my family do..." rattling around in my head. I don't want to acknowledge that God is sovereign and that I'm not in control, because doing so scares me at times.

Truth is tomorrow holds no guarantee. My running doesn't guarantee me anything, my lifting doesn't mean I want grow weak, which reminds me that I saw one of the fittest guys I ever played softball against at the gym on Saturday, his boys were playing against mine. A degenerative back condition has stripped him of his once muscular physique and from what I've heard, came close to putting him in a wheel chair. "Could that be me?"

It's funny, I thought I had a point to make when I started typing this, but now I'm sitting here growing drowsy. Perhaps by putting my thoughts on paper I've exorcised the "demon" for the time being. I know it will be back. Perhaps Wednesday or Friday as the plane rolls down the runway. Perhaps next Tuesday as I kiss my sleeping boys goodbye before heading to the airport. Maybe it will stay away until I have tests run in April to check that some previous lab work doesn't point to anything serious. Who knows? It will be back, and when it returns, I'll tell myself and God, "His will be done." and then pray that my faith is sufficient that I really mean it.

Training Partners and When Anger is Good

PARTNERS
Today's post is a shout out to my running partners over the last few years. They've changed a few times, and we don't maintain an every Saturday meet at such and such time to run such and such distance at such and such pace routine, but they always seem to be there when I want them the least, but need them the most. I encourage everyone to find a running partner or workout partner, just be sure to pick someone who's motivation and commitment matches yours.

I was reminded of how important running partners are this past Saturday. I was to meet with two of them for a long run, but as my week came to an end, I wasn't looking forward to it. Then one had to back out due to illness and there was a glimmer of hope that I wouldn't have to run. An email to the other dashed any hope of getting out of it. She still wanted to run.

Where once I looked forward to long runs, I've not been so fond of them lately. As I headed out to meet up I was not at all motivated, but I had a commitment to keep. Someone was waiting.

The run started and the conversations started and the miles began to pass. I was shocked at how quickly the first few miles passed, but the strong head wind was taking a toll, and for the first time I wasn't sure I could hang with my friend. We pressed on, grateful for the tail wind helping us on the return route, and when it was over I was happy we hadn't cancelled.

That's the best thing about training partners. They hold you accountable, even though they don't always know it. They push you to do the best you can. They motivate you when you don't want to be. They become your workout conscience.

So, to all those who have, whether knowingly or unknowingly, pushed, prodded, pulled, or otherwise gotten me out of bed, out of the house, and on the road, THANKS! (I'm still not sure that applies to that one guy who got me into this silliness a few years ago...well, OK, him too.)

ANGER
Now you may not agree with me, but I'm convinced that my best weight lifting workouts come when I'm angry. Sometimes that anger is genuine, such as being upset, frustrated, or mad about something. In these instances, the weights become the recipient of my aggression and I typically finish with my energy spent and my anger exhausted. A well timed workout can do wonders for a marriage...;>)

At times I manufacture the "anger" I need to lift heavy. This is usually accomplished through my music selection. Songs like John Cougar Mellencamp's "Authority Song", Toby Keith's "Angry American" or "Whiskey for My Men, Beer for My Horses", or M.C. Hammer's "You Can't Touch This" are successful in creating within my mind a adversarial mindset against either "institution", "injustice", or "perceived lack of respect".

Likewise, I can often get "worked up" and "hard charging" by listening to songs such as "Sweet Home Alabama", "Back in Black", "We're Not Gonna Take It" or by listening to Country songs such as Alan Jackson's "Where I Come From" or Alabama's " High Cotton" which help to fuel a frustration with my current place and pace in life in comparison to what I aspire too return to some day.

Either way, whether real (rare) or manufactured (almost always), I utilize anger to get the most out of my lifting routines. Give it a try, just leave it in the gym when you're done with it.