So Far, So Good.

Well, working out is going okay so far. I had my first solo workout on Wednesday morning and managed to do pretty well. I didn't really allow myself enough time, so I didn't finish everything, but that's okay. I'll get more efficient as this becomes more familiar, so I'm not really worried about it. I went in this morning and did 20 minutes on a recumbent bike (and even threw in a sprint or two). Tomorrow, I'm back on weights and maybe a little cardio if time allows.

I created a spreadsheet to track my progress (of course) and will post that soon. I haven't decided how I'm going to handle the weekend since I'm not supposed to do weights two days in a row and I'd like to stick to a Monday-Wednesday-Friday weight schedule. Maybe I'll just do cardio, but go for a longer stint.

More to come soon, I'm sure.

Workout Update - Day One

Had the first session with the personal trainer tonight. She (Cathy) and her husband (Mark) were both there. Cathy will be my trainer, but she brought Mark along for input on plan development and in case she can't make it sometime.
In short, my ass is kicked (and this was just the assessment). The word of the day is squats. That's right, squats. I thought I was going to squat out my innards and two partially digested carnitas tacos. The whole purpose of this session was to identify exercises that would work for me and set weight and rep counts. I think I found my threshold quite well for a beginner.
About half way through the weight lifting portion of the program, I started having a weird sensation like someone was muffling my hearing on and off in a slow, cyclical pattern. It wasn't going along with my heartbeat and it wasn't too intrusive, but I took a break. It went away eventually, but it really felt like some odd pressure in my head. I took a break a little later, before the last set of barbell squats because my vision was getting a little flat and grey (a sure sign that it's time to take a break and breathe deeply before dropping like Lucille Austero with a case of the dizzies).
After weights, we moved on to cardio. I finally, truly understand the scene in Lost in Translation where Bill Murray is trapped on the elliptical trainer and cant get off, and is yelling, "Help! Help!!" I'm sure I'll get used to it, but I felt as though any grace or poise I'd had upon entering the room had left me like French Soldiers fleeing a combat zone.
After a few minutes (84 seconds) of that, it was clear that I am not yet ready for heavy intervallic training, so we're going to keep it to some steady cardio for 20-45 minutes for two or three weeks before stepping up the intensity.
So, here's where I stand at day one:
Height: 6'2" (this one won't change)
Weight: 259 lbs
Chest: 48"
Waist: 40"
Biceps: too large to measure. Freakishly large. Ladies - wanna feel?

All for now - more as things progress...

Joined the Gym

Okay, so we finally joined the gym. It's about time. So, I'm setting a goal for myself. We're planning to go back to Cabo at the end of May, so I'm going to try and lose 30 pounds by the time we leave. That gives me until May 25th.

I've got a call into a personal trainer - Mark, I think. Hopefully we'll be able to hook up one evening this week and work up a routine. The name of the game seems to be weight loss and cardiovascular fitness. The tough thing right now is staying away from all the unhealthy things I love: chips, beer, burgers, more chips...

I also signed us up for organic veggie delivery service. We've gotten one box thus far and I have been very happy with the food. We're really bad about actually buying vegetables at the store and then really cooking them. The nice thing with this service is that they include recipes as well for the items they bring. It may be time for another delivery...

Gotta waddle...

The Stadium Pal

I'm hoping to get this out there in time for the SuperBowl. I saw a clip on YouTube this morning of David Sedaris performing a reading on David Letterman. I'm pretty much always up for some Sedaris (David or Amy), so I was excited to see what he had to say. He reviewed a product called the Stadium Pal. I realize now that I could have happily spent the rest of my life blissfully unaware of this product. Alas and alack, I did learn of its existence; gratefully through Mr. Sedaris' reading rather than seeing it in action at a public function.



I was sure that he made this product up, so I checked their website. Sure enough, this is a real product. Really, really, really real. They've also expanded their product line to meet the needs of the oft neglected ladies. I don't actually know any women who would want to enjoy the freedom of urinating in a bag strapped to their leg, but I don't get out much anymore. Maybe a his and hers set would make an interesting Valentine's Day gift?

On the Stadium Gal page, there's a link to the product they call the "best way to complement" the Stadium Gal - The Beerbelly. This product is a beverage bladder (think Camelback) that holds 80 ounces of liquid refreshment in a low profile, beer belly simulating pouch intended to be worn under the shirt.

Check out a video of the Beerbelly in action. The Beerbelly folks are attempting to tap the oft neglected female alcoholic market as well. They understand that the ladies aren't so excited to strap 80 ounces to their bellies, but would rather add that volume to their chest. Hence, the Winerack. It is what you think it is. A bladder system that stores your covert beverage in your now overt breasts. Think of it like brastuffing with consumable products.

Okay, nuff said.

Violated!!

I'm finally calming down. Actually, I calmed down a couple of hours ago, but this is my first opportunity to sit down at the 'pooter and put fingers to keyboard. So last night (Sunday), at about 10 p.m. we were sitting in the living room watching TV when I heard a rustling in the bushes outside the living room window, four thumps on the dining room window in rapid succession, then a car speeding away. We were both confused and surprised; I put on my shoes and went outside. I looked up and down the street, but saw no sign of anyone.

Someone shot our front window with four bright orange paintballs. I didn't even notice them at first, nor did Michelle. I was furious. What in the Hell is wrong with people? I really wish I'd reacted a bit sooner. Maybe if I'd been out the front door a little faster, I could have gotten a license plate or the make/model of the car. I called the police. They sent a cruiser to check out the neighborhood. He must have been a really great cop because he flew through going about 45 mph. Only the finest cop eyes could carefully inspect the other houses for orange paintball marks at that speed.

I took a pass around the neighborhood to see if anyone else got hit and see if, just maybe, I could spot the petit merdes that were, at that point, the tiny little center of my rage. There weren't many cars out on the street and I didn't see any marks on the other houses, but many of them did not have their exterior lights on. When I got home, we wiped the paint off the window and cleaned up the splatter. In the light of day, we noticed more orange splatter in hard to reach places. Thankfully, the paint doesn't seem to dry very quickly and has an oily texture.

There's something deeply personal about this event. I don't think these kids would have any understanding of what it is to make a home and to feel an emotional connection to it. They obviously do not grasp respect for other people or the sanctity of their homes. I don't expect them to get caught, but I would really like to discuss with them and their parents how their actions affected us. Really, I'd like to kick them in the balls, but I'm trying to take the high road here.

Tattoo done(ish)...

So, Santa Cruz was fun. I picked up Ian in at his place in SF and we cruised down the Penninsula with little to no traffic. We got to Pleasure Point and hooked up with Benja for a pre-tattoo feast of personal size pizza and salad at Round Table (convenience, not cuisine, was the deciding factor here).

The new shop is nice, but it's more of the traditional tattoo shop feel with cubbies for each artist separated by half walls. This way, passers by, onlookers, gawkers, whatever, can see the whole thing go down and ask insightful questions like "gee, does it hurt?"

So, Benja got all set up, and, for a moment, there was some concern that there wouldn't be enough of the primary blue we were using for the dragon (this would make for a rough day), but he managed to eke out enough to get the job done. Once the machine started buzzing, all was right with the world. It was a nice time catching up with both Benja and Ian and we had a grand time listening to tunes, talking about tattoos, politics, spirituality, life, etc... If you need an image, picture an all male Mensa biker sewing circle where the needles are used to push ink into flesh rather than thread into fabric. Can you see it?

We did somewhere between 4-5 hours of work and I was really excited when Ben told me we'd be able to finish the main elements in this sitting. You've got to understand, this tattoo is over a year in the making, and I was so busy in the latter half of 2006 that I couldn't make it down for my monthly sitting. My other half sleeve (the Koi) sat unfinished for about eight years and I ended up having it finished by another artist (Rob at Hot Ink Tattoo in Vallejo). I did not want to let that happen again!! So, but for some detail work (more swirling, pearly effects on the elbow, adding more flowers and clouds below the elbow) and touch ups (re-doing all the black clouds because my skin doesn't hold black well) we're DONE.

Now, I try never to make fun of someone who's getting tattooed, but... There was a guy getting some sanskrit lettering on the inside of his upper arms (one side was new, the other he was having touched up) at Felix's station. That part of the arm is pretty tender, but this was a pretty small tattoo. Well, this dude was lying on a table while Felix was working on him and he was wincing, and gritting his teeth like it was the end of the world. I was in a fair amount of pain when Benja lined the inside of my arm, but we spent, oh, I dunno, five hours in there. This couldn't have taken more than an hour and a half to do the whole deal - tops.

The best part was, we were wrapping up and doing the witch hazel treatment while this guy was getting wrapped up, and apparently, even the bandage was sharp. Felix put the thing on him and he threw his head to the side and winced as though somebody had lit afire a very tender and intimate part of his anatomy. Then, with a tiny little tear in his eye, he looked over at us with this look that said, oh, It huuuurrtsss... He then noticed that the insides of both of my arms are completely covered, elbow to armpit and that Ian's arms are about 75% covered. Then the shame kicked in and he didn't look at us again.

Dude's wife got a small tattoo done on her shoulder after he was done and she took it a helluva lot better than he did. She was uncomfortable, but she wasn't being all dramatic about it. And, to top it all off, while she's getting tattooed (I think it was her first), he's talking on his cell phone (oh, yeah, nuthin'... what are you up to??). Yeah, that's supportive. When Michelle got her tattoo, I was right there, talking her through it. She got hers done by Shannon at Lyle Tuttle's in SF (now owned by the fabulous Tanya Nix - killer old school stuff). Shannon was about 1/3 done with the lining and I could tell M was getting really uncomfortable, so I held her hand and said, "You're doing great; you're almost done." To which Shannon replied, "What?! We're not even close! (pause, then realization of the psychological ploy at work) Oh, yeah, we're almost done."

But I digress....

So, after tattooing we went to Cowboy Diner in Felton for dinner. If you ever find yourself in the Santa Cruz mountains, go to Felton and eat at Cowboy Diner. It is excellent!! Bring your appetite and prepare to leave portion control by the side of highway 9. After dinner, we walked down the road about a quarter mile to a mountain bar. We ordered up some whiskies and went outside. Yes, it was damn cold, but I had brought back some Montecristo torpedoes from Mexico and I thought it fitting that we celebrate the completion of the tattoo with some fine cigars. So, we're sitting out there and pretty soon the toothless tweakers and mountain skanks come out of the bar for their nicotine an drama break. They started a fire (in a fire pit, not just out there on the dirt) and huddled around it for warmth.

We ended up chatting up some of the locals including one very drunk guy who lit his cigarette by shoving it, along with his whole hand, into the fire pit. He could do this, he told us, because he grew up without electricity and could shower with one gallon of water which he heated over an open flame. Most people, he boasted, may be able to shower in as little as two gallons, but he only really needs one. It would have been more impressive without the slurring, swaying, and staggering, but his mastery of profanity was impressive. There was also a Cousin It looking hippie guy who offered us some of the resin he was smoking, a kind yet unneccessary gesture that we appreciated, yet refused for a variety of reasons. It was something out of a gritty Indie film and I half expected Tom Waits of Steve Buscemi to come barging through the door at any time. Instead, it was like watching the off, off, off, off Broadway production of Barfly in the age of Crystal Meth. Good times...

Tattoo

I'm headed to Santa Cruz tomorrow to see Benja at Pleasure Point Tattoo to have some more color work done on my latest tattoo, a modern take on a traditional Japanese water dragon. Last year, we worked on the tattoo once a month or so (it covers my entire right arm from below the elbow to the top of the shoulder) but stopped after the June session because I got so busy with work.

Now, almost seven months later, I finally have some time to head down there for the day. Ian's coming with me to provide moral support and keep the post tattoo pain relief (probably whiskey and cigars) flowing as appropriate. I haven't checked to see what bands are playing tomorrow night, but, since it's Santa Cruz, there's bound to be something happening. The photo (right) is a little old, but it's the only one I have.

The tattoo is actually a lot farther along than in this photo. Hopefully we'll be able to get the rest of the dragon colored in and spend some time on the claw and pearl on the elbow (one of my favorite spots).