Pass Me the Gravy Boat

Oh man, so much to catch up on. Not updating this blog for two weeks has created pent up content that I don't have the patience to write, and you surely don't have the patience to read. So this will be an eating update, because I love food and it's so easy to write about, and I will update later about running and lifting.

To summarize: In the past two weeks, I've managed to go running six times and do some sort of weight training four times. That's a total of 10 workouts in 14 days. Considering some doubled up, and I needed days off to recover, that's pretty good - a 71 percent workout rating. I feel good, I feel healthy, I feel strong, and I'm sleeping better. This whole exercising thing regularly is pretty rad. And despite the unknown fate of Twinkies, I managed to avoid these puppies...

(I know these aren't real. I want them anyway. Meat sweets. If you read that 

wrong, you read it as meat sweats, which is something I am known 

to experience after eating large quantities of, well...meat.)

All of this vigorous training does, however, have some drawbacks. I cannot stop eating. I'm always hungry and I almost never have healthy foods. To recap the last two weeks, I ate (not including breakfast):

Pizza for nine meals;
Five meals that were just two slices of cheese bread;
Six runzas;
Taco Tuesday twice;
Two Subway sandwiches;
A salad.

My dietary habits read like the 12 Days of Christmas of a stoned college student. But, that's not the worst of the lot. Last Friday night (Nov 9), I ate a normal dinner (garlic cheese bread), then ate a grease-soaked quesadilla at 2 a.m. I wasn't even drunk, I was the DD! If it's there, I can't say no, and I like to keep the local Mom and Pop businesses afloat.

The next night I had pizza for dinner, and got together with old friends to bid adieu to a girl moving to San Francisco. That night, I was drunk, and we continued the celebration at 2 a.m. at Del Taco, where I partied with two shredded beef burritos, a taco, another quesadilla and chili fries. But I'm working out and running! So that totally offsets it.

Sadly, even when I'm working my catering job, I'm no better. I ate a cheese bread dinner and then made my way to the coolest of the cool Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part 2 after parties. I actually was on my feet for about seven hours straight before I got to eat. I did sneak some ceviche and chips, which was a delightful treat to hold me over during my long night. But once I got to eat, it was on. I started with chocolate bread pudding, followed by salmon, cheese bread again, prosciutto, mashed potatoes, and three different types of sugary little desserts.

This proved to be a potentially lethal combination the next day when I evacuated my bowels and the man in the stall next to me hit the deck, pants around his ankles, completely unconscious. I cleared his pockets of all valuables and fanned him until the haze cleared and he started to stir. Then I got the hell out of there.

Point is: These habits aren't good for me, and apparently not good for the people around me either. Such is life. I'm thinking I have to stop writing about the food I eat because it never changes and HOLY SHIT Thanksgiving is right around the corner!

Somebody pass me the gravy boat, I'm about about to clog some arteries.

(This is exactly how large I want this year's gravy boat to be. I want to bathe in it)

Punt Me in the Dangler

Since the time I started this blog and trying to train for the Tough Mudder, I've learned a lot about myself. This has been a time of reflection and self-revelation. I have found strengths and weaknesses. I know what I need to do to make myself into the machine that will dominate this race. If only I could bring myself to execute. Sigh.

People joke about getting old. That shit is NOT funny. The aches, the pain, the creaks, the pops. It's all real. It's all too damn real. And it's not my body, it's my attitude too. I went to a concert last week. It was a Taking Back Sunday show; part of their tour to commemorate a decade of Tell All Your Friends. For the most part, it was a pretty cool concert. But the opening band, Man Overboard, made me realize how far removed I am from this scene. I hauled my walker to the balcony level of Club Nokia to watch a this band punk-jump all over the stage. They were energetic! exciting! ...stuck in 2002! However, their Wikipedia page says they formed in 2008, right around the time I got my first hip replacement.

I was beginning to think it was a bad idea until Bayside came on and shat all over the previous band. Then TBS came on and I actually found myself enjoying the show. It was nice to reminisce. It actually took me back to high school for a while. The band sounded great, and Adam Lazzara can still swing the microphone around his neck three times a song like nobody's business!

Once my hearing-aids gave out, though, I listened to the dull warble of being so last summer. I noticed a few things. Some people were really reliving their youth and it was awesome; other are still living at 16 years old and never moved on. Mr. Lazzara has put on a few pounds. I've put on a few pounds, or somewhere closer to 30. I really wanted to be at home with a snifter of brandy, smoking a cigar and listening to Engelbert Humperdinck on my phonograph. (He says as he turns into his grandfather).

 *Photo Illustration by Austen Montero

Moving right along.

I worked a catering event on Friday night for almost nine hours. It was a Halloween party. It was fun! See, I'm not that old, I still like holidays and dressing up. I was a zombie. RAWR. Or GRRRRR. GURGLE? GRRRRRRRGLE!

Yes, that's Instagrammed. Don't judge, you know you have one, too. The event was actually a great time, and despite working nearly nine hours without a break, I had a blast. I would tell you all about it, but I've already bitched a bunch about irrelevant non-fitness stuff, and the non-disclosure contract I signed says I'm not allowed discuss the party. It was THAT exclusive. What I can do, is name drop and tell you that if you've ever thought that Dave Grohl might be the coolest fucking dude on the planet, you're totally correct. I've said too much!

The point here is that I didn't get a break, so I drank no water for roughly 11 hours while I was driving to and from the event, and while working it. I walked a ton (exercise?) and hardly ate. Once I got home, I got a cramp in my left hamstring. It still hurts. Four days later! I would have bounced back from that in minutes when I was 16. I would give anything to be that...age.....again....... Oh my god. I'm one of them. I want to be a teenager again. Time to buy my tickets to The Starting Line's show.

Clearly, I still need to step up my game. I ate enough Flame Broiler on Thursday to feed about four people. I didn't even eat dinner on Friday. I ate burritos, tacos, pulled pork sandwiches and pizza (twice) on Saturday. I ate one hamburger on Sunday, followed by a bunch of cheddar cheese and pepperoni. This meat and cheese party pack thing is going to be a tough reputation to kick.

My shopping habits are declining, too. I bought two loaves of bread tonight. I already had one at home. I followed that up with two pounds of shredded cheddar cheese. I didn't need it. I already have another two-pound bag of cheese in my fridge.

To top it off, I ate a school of Swedish Fish once I got home from grocery shopping. Roughly 35 pink, little fishies. I'll probably shit straight Red 5. It looked like this.

(*Photo Illustration. Not real life.)

Something's gotta give, and hopefully it's not a my waistband. If my next post says nothing about exercising, someone please punt me in the dangler. If that doesn't motivate me, I don't know what will.