Exercising Demons

For a very brief stint, I was on my high school track team.  I had a coach that I hated...hated.  He was, hands down, the meanest, nastiest coach I've ever come across.  He wasn't intense, he was mean and it didn't help that he thought distance runners were "a bunch of (insert worst word for female genitalia)".  For 4 years, though, I couldn't find any redeeming quality about this guy.


For conditioning, we would run outside on the track...no matter what type of weather.  I came to hate that track and everything about it.  Never mind the fact that just next to the track was a cow pasture, so when the north winds came (common during the spring sports season), you'd get a whiff of methane on every half turn.  Goooooo Mustangs!

I had heard that many years back, my coach had died of a heart attack.  I don't speak ill of the dead, but that really doesn't surprise me.  You know those guys that stress you out and raise YOUR blood pressure?

That was this guy.

So, of course, my intervals brought me back to my old haunts.  I've lived close to my alma mater for 5+ years now and it was only until this morning that I decided to run on that track.  Not because of some sort of "reliving the past" drama.  My other track is being resurfaced.  Here are the results:

.25 miles - walk
.50 miles - jog - 4:19
.50 miles - run - 3:15
.50 miles - job - 4:25
.50 miles - run - 3:19
.25 miles - walk

Not overly impressive.  I'm slowly getting back to where I want to be.  Plus, it was like running in soup, but it got done.

*How many points for the play on words in the title?  Huh?  

On Hold

I was all set to write up this post about how I went to my high school alma mater's track and exorcised demons of track practices past with some 800 intervals this morning.

...and then I decided to go to Starbucks instead.

That, my friends was an entirely different experience.  I grabbed my tall bold coffee, bought a newspaper and settled in to a comfy chair.  The woman that was behind me in line, who sounded a BIT high strung to begin with, sat down next to me.  That would have been fine if it were the only other chair, but of course it wasn't.  She proceeded to drink her coffee and stare at the wall ahead of her.

Near the entrance, some high school students were gathering.  I recognized the "oh my god, I can't believe I'm up this early" look from them.  I see it all the time when we take our students to conferences.  Regardless, their conversation drowned out the odd music (even for 'bux) playing overhead.  Some snippets from their conversation:

• "Dudes don't make other dudes cry."
• "That's because dudes are assholes."
• "My dad gets up this early."
• "I only got 2 hours of sleep."

Scintillating stuff, let me tell you.  Thank God it's summer vacation and I don't have to listen to that on a regular basis until mid-August.

Where was I?  Oh yeah, intervals....tomorrow.  I'm not kidding.

It's Too Spicy

*Note- I'm messing with my blog.  Bear with me as I make some tweaks.  In other words:  deal with it.

"It's too spicy, daddy."

Whenever my 4 year old isn't comfortable with something, he'll say that "it's too spicy".  Of course, he uses it to get out of eating dinner, but when something doesn't jive in his little world, he'll pull out that phrase.
Right now, that's kind of how I feel about not being anonymous on this blog.  It's too spicy.  There's something to be said for anonymity when writing.  I could develop a persona that was slightly different from who I actually was.  My writing could be more bold and that I could go out on a limb once in awhile.  It's not like I was a completely different person.  I'm not that kind of weirdo, just...different.
A lot of it has to do with my profession.  Being a teacher, you're in the public eye. People consider you a professional and expect you to act like one.  And, I'd like to think I do.  But here's the deal with teachers:
We're human.
I like to throw down a couple of beers from time to time.  I like to bitch and moan about how the Husker offense was completely inept for the rest of the season after the Kansas State game last year.  I have the right to complain about my job just as much as the next person. And, if you look at who I follow on Twitter, you could conclude that I'm a die hard husker fan who is a journalism teacher that loves sports, decent writing, that's always looking for a good deal, and occasionally likes an inappropriate joke once in awhile.  Like I said....a human being.
Now I've made the decision to start blogging and advertise each post on Twitter...something that my family, friends, colleagues and..yes...even students have access to.  I don't know how I feel about that just yet.  More than likely, I'll be no more than a blip on their radar and that's just fine with me.
Right now, it's still too spicy.

Redemption!

Had a really bad run earlier this week.  Really bad.  Like "I hope that I have to stop at this intersection because of traffic so I can look like I had to wait for cars rather than taking a break." kind of bad.  Regardless, I took on the same "brutal" 4 miler (don't judge) and beyotch-slapped it around.

32:36

Had this song come up on my iPod.  Consider this my pseudo-STIFFY entry. Brought to you by BING! (c'mon Microsoft. If Ian can get a free pair of shoes for not doing a damn thing, the least you can give me is...um...what the hell does Microsoft have anymore? A free copy of Word?) Nevemind.

Know MY Limitations

We're sneaking up on Week 2 of my "I Don't Care.  I'm on Summer Vacation." facial hair experiment.  Yesterday, I talked about how everyone should know their limitations.  Obviously, I don't know mine:

Can you say Stone Cold Killa?

 Sorry, ladies...I'm taken.

 I think that's Chris Hansen from Dateline at my front door.  Hang on a sec.

I'm particularly pleased about the non-descript background coupled with the fact that I shot these with my laptop's webcam.  Not sketchy at all.

Know Your Limitations

I've noticed a disturbing trend in my little corner of suburbia.  It's not crabgrass or those stupid "Summer!" flags that people hang from their house.  No, I'm talking about the fact that most men in my neighborhood do yard/outside work without their shirt on.

When we moved into our house 6 years ago, I glanced over our Neighborhood Association's bylaws and it looked pretty straightforward.  I must have missed the "Males must show their pasty, white midsection whilst mowing the lawn." clause. It's quite disturbing, let me tell you.  Oh, and I think there's a sub-clause that tanning is optional.  As a wise friend always told me:  "Tan fat is sexier than white fat."  Too bad I'm of Irish/Croatian heritage.

I've always been about knowing your limitations.  I realize that people come in all shapes and sizes.  That being said, some still think that shorty shorts (both male and female) are the best option for each and every occasion over the summer.  Um, no.  There are 2 things where I know my limitations:

1. I should wear a shirt in public.  The only....only...exception to this rule is at the pool/lake/beach although, if it's obnoxiously warm in the morning, I'll run without a shirt.
2. I shouldn't grow facial hair (more on that later this week).

My favorite shirtless wonder is the 70 year old guy in the neighborhood on the Hoveround who takes his lap dog out for a walk/roll.  We all point and laugh at him in the car and it's good fun for the Razz family*.    That's how we roll.  Get it?  Roll?

*Not because he's confined to the Hoveround (my son actually wants one), but the fact that it's 8am and he's shirtless and rolling with his dog. 

More of Me

**INTERIOR - IAN'S BASEMENT**

Ian stares blankly at his computer screen while Candis raises 2 kids, cooks dinner, cleans the house....you know pretty much everything else.  

Phone rings

IAN:  Hello?

NITMOS:  You bored?

IAN:  Yeah.  I'm actually trying to think of something to write.  I need more free schwag so I can "review" it and then post something.  My Pearl Izumis are wearing out and I refuse to actually pay for a pair of shoes.  

NITMOS:  What are you going to write about?

IAN:  I have no idea.  I'm tapped out.  Razz is virtually non-existent, so I have no inspiration.

NITMOS:  I know what you're saying.  My last post was about a koala bear with an STD for chrissakes.

IAN: Want to do a podcast?

NITMOS:  No.

IAN:  I wonder what Razz is doing right now.

NITMOS:  We could call him.

IAN:  No.

ANNOUNCER:  Are you tired?  Bored?  Are you thinking to yourself, "I miss Razz.  I wish I could know more about him other than his running because he's an inspiration to me, my family, and all mankind."?

IAN:  Why yes!  Yes I am!

NITMOS:  Oh!  Me too!

ANNOUNCER:  Well you're in luck!  For a limited time, you can try out My Blog, My Rules absolutely free!  A completely all-encompassing blog about The Man, The Myth, The Legend!  It will change the way you look at your entire life!

IAN:  But what about ROATM?

ANNOUNCER:  Don't you worry, little guy.  It will still be there.

NITMOS:  You promise, Mr. Announcer?

ANNOUNCER: I promise.

Results may vary as this is the 4th or 5th time I've done this.  It's actually an experiment for the upcoming school year.  Tumblr vs. Blogger.   Look at me!  I'm working!

Summer Vacay, Part 1

So I've just been chillin poolside for the past few weeks (more on that later) and I'm in full-on "I Don't Care. I'm Not Training For Anything." running mode.  As a result, I defer to my old tried and true bullet points:

• I ditched my gym membership.  Not really a sacrifice.  I was essentially paying money every month so the entire staff could be on their phones and text.  I saw a trainer do that while some poor woman was doing lunges around the track.  When he wasn't doing that, he was trying to hit on other gym members. Then there was the "daycare provider" that was texting while some toddler was pissing all over the floor. Stay classy, Urban Active.
• I'm a Pool Guy now.  We made the executive decision to join a pool this summer.  It was that, or the kids and I were going to drive each other nuts by Day 1 of summer vacation.  Think Lord of the Flies with flip-flops.  Shockingly, I've never been much of a pool guy, but sitting in a plastic chair and making sure my youngest doesn't drown is pretty easy parenting.  
• And because I'm a Pool Guy, I have to keep being Running Guy as well.  I'm getting 3 runs in a week and want to bump that up to 4.  Now that I have no gym to go to, I'm off to the local track to get my intervals in.  There's something odd about being at a middle school track at 5:30am.  It's borderline creepy, but not as creepy as the old man who watches me from his deck. 
• I've completely let myself go, facial hair-wise.  I'm week 1 into my "Screw it.  It's summer vacation." beard.  I look like I should be a captive on Al Jazeera TV telling the American people how wonderfully I'm being treated.  Splotches will fill in in Week 2, right?
• I have this in my head.  And, since it's Friday, hopefully it will be in yours (SSTIFY!):

Speaking of Sunday morning, Happy Fathers Day to my fellow brethren!  Sure, it's not as hyped as Mother's Day, but it gives us an excuse to grill animal flesh, drink copious amounts of beer and shoot animals from our porches.

My Shoes Suck

As I posted in my race report, I have fallen out of love with my shoes.  To be more specific, my Mizuno Wave Riders.  I tried.  I really did.  I've been running in WRs for at least 3 versions.  If you've been reading this blog for awhile (are there any left?), then you'll know that I've been kind of a shoe whore before that.  I really thought that this relationship would last.

Beyach.

They look cool, but they feel weird walking around.  Strangely enough, they feel less weird when I start running.  I'm not about to tell you about how the forefoot cushioning blah blah blah and the upper doesn't caress my yackety yack.  I don't know any of that technical stuff.  All I know is that they just don't feel right.

"So buy some new ones you idiot!" some would beckon.

"Because I don't want to, moron!" I would retort.

I can't return them and they're too damn uncomfortable for mowing.  Looks like they'll go back to the recycling pile along with some old Mizunos.  Ones that served me well in the past.

Holy Lord, this is the worst post of all time.  I apologize.  I would just delete the whole thing, but I said I was going to write more this summer.  Just didn't clarify that some (most?) of it would be crap.