Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Fear the Greeks

Run Day

I ran about two miles today. I planned seven. But, Dirtbag friends, I had fear and needed to stop.
For the last week or so I've been getting small, quiet twinges in my right heel, sometimes up to my right Achilles tendon. They come and go and for a while it would work itself about after a few minutes of running. I told myself the tendon just needed to warm up and stretch out. But now I feel it occasionally when I'm walking around and noticed it pushing off the wall during yesterday's swim.
I'm worried I'm working on a case of Achilles tendonitis. All the signs point that direction. I'm not greatly pleased, because my runs have been pretty great recently, but I'm not too worried either because the pain is very slight still so I think I caught it nice and early. Like I said, I ran only two easy miles today. Think I might take Thursday off from running, and see how I feel Sunday. I'm icing as I type and will continue to do that. I'm not complaining, because it could be way worse, and I might be overreacting because I have a tendency to do that sometimes, but it's better to be safe.
Dirtbag's have the best icepacks

 Also, in case you somehow missed it, go check out my new article on active.com Can You Call Yourself An Athlete? Then tweet about it, Facebook it, Google+ it, and tell your friends. Gracias.

What Do You Call Yourself?

Active.com has posted my newest article, Can You Call Yourself an Athlete?
Check it out, comment, share it on all the various medias, spread the Dirtbag love. Thanks for reading!
*Kepa- Something you posted a while ago kind of inspired this one.

Time Trialing It

1.2mi (2100yd)- 33:18
average pace- 1:35/100yd

time- 1:59
distance- 34mi

I had a whole workout planned for Monday morning's swim. I'll still get to it, probably Wednesday. But I ended up running behind and needed something a little quicker. Rather than cut it to pieces I decided to test-swim the HalfIron race distance, 1.2mi. 1.2mi is approximately 2100yd. 2100yd is 84 laps. That's a lot of laps to stay awake and focused during.
I didn't warm-up, I just got it and got cranking. Honestly, it wasn't so bad. Like I talked about Sunday, it's all about making short goals over a long distance. So I pretty much broke the swim up into 500s in my head and swam to the next multiple of 20. After a while the brain gets stretched and it starts thinking silly things like, "I'm at 65, that means I'm nearly to 80. Only 15 more laps!" But I was able to keep the pace cranked to a strong, maintainable rhythm and faded only a little. I don't have any way to know my splits, but if I had to guess I'd say the first 500 was the fastest and the last 500 was the second fastest, with the two in the middle having some dragging. My biggest goal was accomplished, the goal I preach all the time: My stroke at the end looked like my stroke at the beginning. You hold that, you're swimming strong.
My ride in to town last night wasn't too eventful. Got around most red lights, didn't get nearly run over but once, passed a huge group of guys on mopeds. I love the moped gangs that show up around the island. Big, smelly groups of tough guys on a herd of angry bees. I did the Lagoon Drive wind tunnel, which is a great place to ride. Fun tailwind for the nearly two miles out, strong headwind for the back, and the road is smooth and clear to whole time. Next time, when I leave a little earlier, I'll probably get two laps.
Three Non-Dirtbag News Items-
1) I ask everyone to pop over to the Swim, Bike, Mom blog and send her some power and love. She was nearly on top of her 70.3 New Orleans and she broke her foot yesterday. She handles this temporary set-back with much grace and good humor, which is not how I would be able to handle it, and very little "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuckfuckedyfuckfuckingfuckerfuckfuckfuck!" which is exactly how I would handle it. So make sure you send some positive vibes her way. Injuries mess up even the strongest of us.
2) If you're on the Twitter, I suggest you follow @Mr_Triathlon. Dude is freaking hilarious. A recent tweet read, "I practiced my my 'flying squirrel' bike mount for 3 hours today. I'm fairly confident that should shave at least 2 seconds of my next IM." Correction- Follow him after you follow @DirtbagFitness. Like you aren't already following me. 
3) Diesel took off yesterday to the island of the long white cloud and short brown bird for IMNZ. He's there with many other triathletes from da island and the will be racing this weekend. So Dirtbag Fitness waves them goodbye and calls, "Bye boys, have fun storming the castle!"

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Thinking About Distance

Ride (Saturday)
time- 4:27
distance- 63.15mi

Run (Sunday)
time- 1:32
distance- 9mi
I can't start a run thinking about how far I have to go. That ruins my headspace and it's really hard to recover from. It popped into my head today as my Garmin buzzed at me that my first mile was now behind me. "Oh, only eight more to go." That sounds like a long ass way. So I shook it out of my head and tried to focus on one step at a time.
I break my runs up by landmarks. I'm running to the bridge. Now I'm running to Dole. Now I'm running to the light. Now I'm running up the hill. And, like magic, now I'm at the halfway point. Since I run out-and-back and not loops the halfway point is very important to me. Most of the time, if I feel strong when I turn around then I'm going to be ok. My pace will fall off some, but I'm going to be alright. I like having that halfway point.
But as my runs get longer the halfway point gets further and further from home. When you're only running four miles, it's only two miles home. And "only two miles" doesn't sound bad. Where I am right now, "only four and a half miles" sounds kind of silly. So I've started breaking up the way back too. And because of all the shorter runs I've done I get a strong sense of accomplishment as I run past my old turn-around points.
I'm trying to keep a strong, even pace while I'm out. My average moving pace today was 10:15/mi. I'd like to get that down to 10:00/mi by race day. Not that I expect to be putting up 10:00 miles during the run of the 70.3, but it would be nice to have that as a baseline going in. However, and this is important, I'm not actually stressing the pacing too much here. I don't go out on Sunday's and run hard. I'm barely running a high DSQ on Tuesday and Thursday. I'm running for consistency. Much like my oft-repeated view on distance swimming, if I can have the same stride at the end of the race that I do at the beginning then I'll be happy. I know there will be falling apart and I'm pretty sure that at some point during the run the wheels are going to come off. But I want to push that back as far as possible.
Anyway, this was my farthest training run. Ever. Never run nine miles before. And it was pretty great. The weather was perfect for it, overcast and cool, but no rain.
Yesterday's ride was plenty nice too. Missed the guys and it was my first solo ride in a while, but that's ok because when it comes down to it the Honu will be a solo ride too. And riding is where you really can't think too far ahead. I'm out for over four hours, don't want to be thinking about that a half hour in. But I cleared that mental hurdle when I was training for the Century last summer. Which is part of the reason I signed up for the Hapalua. Forced familiarity with the distance will ease some of the fear about it.
Mt. Doom has nothing on Mt. Wind. Except nasty filthy hobbittses
The ride featured a strong climb up Pupukea, and then an assault on Mount Wind for pretty much the entire time I headed out. Brutal headwind, lots of down in aero fighting getting tough being strong grrrr Dirtbag get some go again! And I guess there was a tailwind helping me out on the way back, but I didn't notice it too much. I was going to get 70 miles, which with Pupukea means going about 40 miles out, but at 33 miles the skied opened and exploded. Luckily, I was right by a gas station when it happened so I pulled in and waited for the storm to pass. This being Hawaii, the tropical blessing only lasted a few minutes and I was back on the road. But I was back on the road turned tail. The road ahead didn't look friendly and I wasn't anticipating any more soaking. Pineapple was Pineapple. not great, not awful, just another climb.
Good weekend.
Pictured: Downpour

Thursday, February 23, 2012


1 x 200- Warm-up
5 x 200- (100- fist, 1, 2, 3/50- thumb drag/50-swim)
3 x 100- IM
5 x 50- Sideline kick
5 x 100- 5, 7, 9
1 x 500- 7:06
1 x 100- Cool down
total- 2850yd

distance- 7.02mi
time- 1:09

Good drill day in the pool this morning. Not fast, but these aren't fast days. They are stroke days. I want to note the fist, 1, 2, 3 drill, which took the place of a 1, 2, 3, swim drill. I wanted to see how that would change things up and I like it. I normally don't do the growth drill alone, so it was good to start at zero and build to three because the next four laps are a full stroke anyway. The IMs were also pretty strong. Butterfly feels better all the time and breast feels less slow. Backstroke is still dumb. It just is. Seriously, it's the only event in any sport (aside from one of those rowing ones) where you can't see where you are going. I dislike the backstroke. This may have something to do with slamming full speed into the wall at a meet when I was younger. I can't really remember.
And the run went pretty well. I was inspired by Swim, Bike, Mom's post today. Especially this quote:
... you've done X, now do X+Y.  For some reason, that clicks with me.  Now, I try not to focus on the X+Y+Z+A+B+C+D+E required to make it to my next race... only focus on the short equations to make it through the next workout.
Made me want to run further. Well, that and having registered for the Hapalua Half Marathon on March 11th. Signing up for something like that lights a fire. It's weird, like the Honu is too far away to see clearly so I need these little steps between here and there to keep me rolling. Even though hanging over everything is the Half Ironman. To misquote an excellent book, "Summer is coming."
Before I really get in to the run I'd just like to say, don't you hate it when you fart during a run, but then the wind blows in such a manner that you can't outrun it? And you're too tired to pick up the pace so you just have to run in the cloud until you get a lucky gust?
During my run the sun decided to make an appearance from behind the clouds. I run mostly north-to-south, so I'm rarely running directly into the sun. But as it drops in the sky it gets beneath my visor as I wear it normally and right into my face. Which leads to this:
The hat angle keeps the sun off my face better. And my tongue is, umm, aero...
Which makes me feel like a Dirtbag ThugLife. Which, in my nerdtastic stream-of-consciousness running daze, lead me finally to this:

As far as you know, no krumping happened on the side of the road. But I do reach the point during runs where I'll do pretty much anything to make it home still running.
Also, if you've never seen Community you fail. Go to Hulu, go to amazon.com, find it, watch it, catch up. Right now you are streets behind. Abed for Grand High Media Czar!

And I'm Gone, I'm Gone

Swim (Tuesday am)
1 x 200- warm-up
5 x 200- 3:00
1 x 50- easy
2 x 50- butterfly
1 x 100- Cool down

time- 2:27
distance- 38.38mi

First, every needs to watch this before they read anything:

Is it stuck in your head now too? Good, because I spent all of yesterday's ride with it stuck in mine. Not that I'm complaining, it's a great song by an excellent band. But that's an awful lot of, "Livin' after midnight/Rockin' 'til the dawn/Lovin' 'til the mornin'/and I'm gone/ I'm gooooone." *
*Dirtbag Metal Aside- Anyone who knows music knows this, but it's my blog and I want to talk about it anyway. Judas Priest not only helped create the metal sound, they also created the metal look. The best part about that is the lead singer, Rob Halford, is gay. Nothing wrong with that, but back in the 70s and 80s when Priest was huge he was still in closet. Well, as in the closet as a person can get dressed like he is in that video. Looking back now, from 2012, absolutely no one is shocked to find out that singer is gay. I mean, look at some of their song titles. Ram It Down. No Life Til Leather. Turbo Lover. Judas Priest Metal is not subtle. So Rob, being a cosmopolitan kind of dude, did some of his shopping in the gay shops around London. He would by a leather this and a studded that and one of those whips, then he'd wear it on stage. Because it looks badass, right? And the impressionable young men in the audience would see their Metal God stalking the stage geared up like a biker from hell (or SoHo), and connect how cool he looked with how great the music was and conclude that they too needed some dead cow. Then they created bands and pretty soon the audience and core of the heavy metal movement all dressed like the gayest guy in the room. And that, mixed with the hyper-masculinity of heavy metal, is an awesome mix. Halford is a metal god, the man's voice sounds as great today as it did 30 years ago.*End Dirtbag Metal Aside*
I failed completely on Monday. I had no interest in working out at all, so I didn't. Day off and all that. Tuesday I really did want to workout. I took the day off for personal reasons and because of that I was able to visit Super Awesome Wife in her classroom and meet her kids. Four SPED 3-year olds. Really cute. But that put me on an artificial timetable that I screwed up when I slept in. So I only got a short swim in before I had to haul down the hill to spend time with her. Then after I visited I planned on getting home, changing, and getting out for a run. But circumstances conspired against me and I didn't have time before we had to go out again. So I pretty much suck on Monday and Tuesday.
Wednesday I was good though. My plan was to run to 24 Hour Fitness then take a spin class. Why? Because I've never done one and I figured it might help my cycling. I called ahead to see how early I should be there for the 6pm class so I would be sure a spot and the crazy woman on the phone said an hour to an hour and a half. What! I didn't hear you right, say that again. "Yes sir, there are already people here waiting to get on the list that opens at 5:00." It was 3:30. Forget that noise. So I strapped on my helmet and went out on my own. Down Pineapple and out Dillingham. Windy as all hell out there, which was nice on the way out- tailwinds are the bestest! But the way back was down in aero, stay low, drop into lighter gears, and wish Diesel was there to give me a pull. I texted him, but he must not have had his phone on him or something.
View from the end of Dillingham. I win.
Pineapple was a good sufferfest. I managed to stay present for most of it but did float off in a thought bubble for a few minutes. Gotta get better at that. Still, I feel like I pushed through pretty well. Still got burned by the imaginary the Grey I was chasing. My excuse is he's 25 pounds lighter than I am. This ignores that fact that he's nearly 30 years older than I am.
...shut up.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Not So Much Weekend

Bike (Saturday)
time- 3:57/moving time- 3:07
distance- 50.16mi

time- 54:13
distance- 4.76mi

This was not an Iron-weekend. It was barely a tin-weekend. I am not impressed with myself.
Saturday's ride was ok, but not great. We got out there, we got some miles done. Diesel is headed to New Zealand for his Ironman soon so this was like a taper day for him. Which means he only beat up on the Grey and I a little bit.
We rode down Pineapple and out to the airfield. The original plan was two laps like that, but the weather made Pineapple awfully slick and it was decided by a vote of one to one, with one abstaining, that we would do another airfield lap and then head up the hill. I love doing airfield repeats with the guys. Its a great place to get some speed work in and when the wind kicks up you can feel yourself getting stronger. Or getting blown backwards. But what's really great about airfield repeats is Diesel can't help but lead. And the Grey and I can't help but tuck in behind him. When he kicks ass in New Zealand he's going to have us to thank due to how strong he's getting hauling our draft-happy asses back and forth all the time. You're welcome.
I am not happy about my run. I set my alarm to get up early and get on the road, but when I woke up it was pouring. Running in the rain is one thing, running in the POURING is another and I wasn't feeling it so I went back to sleep. It was really really nice to sleep in. But I slept in late enough that I missed my morning run window. You see, Dirtbag Friends, a friend from out of town was on island this weekend and Super Awesome Wife and I met her in Haleiwa for some Thai. Not the best Thai on the
Brick of Yum
island, that's still Opal Thai, but Haleiwa Eats is pretty good. Good enough that I ate exactly one ton of pad thai. So when we got home I needed a lay down and possibly a nap. Remember Wednesday when I talked about how well I workout post-nap normally? Yeah, so it was that, plus instead of digesting
the pad thai became a rock of noodles and tofu sitting in my stomach. I dragged myself off the couch and got outside, but I wasn't feeling it. I wanted eight miles today. Wanted it bad. And it wasn't going
to happen. The wheels came off around 2.3 miles and I turned tail. Spent the whole trip back alternating walking and running. Sucks, but it happens.
Tomorrow is a holiday (how nice it is that the presidents were born on holidays!) and I've talked about my difficulty working out on days off before. I get to sleep in, then head to the pool, then find time later to ride. Wah wah wah.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

St. Crispins Day

1 x 200- Warm-up

Run Day
time- 1:03
distance- 6.53mi

Damn near another dead even split during the run. The swim was a grind-it-out kind of morning, which wasn't great but it got did. It was raining for about half the run and it turns out Dirtbag loves him some running in the rain. I was going to post a short clip from the Danny DeVito movie Renaissance Man, which happens to be one of my favorite movies and is often forgotten when people (teachers) list inspirational teacher movies like Stand and Deliver (my other favorite teacher movie). The scene I wanted was where the drill sergeant is encouraging his boots by yelling at them, "Bring on the rain! I love the rain! My old drill sergeant used to say, 'If it ain't rainin', we ain't trainin''". But I forgot about the St. Crispin's Day speech from Henry V. So instead of going on and on I'm going to post that whole scene. Because it's awesome, and Shakespeare is important.

Also, please note that I've done a little playing around with the blog format and added a few pages. It would be very cool if you could click over to the Dirtbag Supports page and at least take a look. Cheers.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Better Than Nothing

60minute Trainer Session

1) I can't take a nap and then get on the trainer.
2) I hated the trainer today, and it hated me right back.

I was feeling good when I left school today. I knew knew I was going to have a good workout when I got home. Then one thing lead to another and I ended up crashing out for 30 (20? 15? 45?) minutes. Whoops. There's nothing harder for me than stopping moving and then getting going again. My normal M.O. is get home, quick change, and back out the door. If my ass hits the couch my energy level plummets and soon its all I can do to reach the remote.
So it was wake up from nap, sit on couch, decide I'm going to rest today then make it up on Friday, then realize I like have Friday completely free of workouts, then call myself a wuss, then stew for a minute, then set up the trainer outside (Super Awesome Wife was still napping and my trainer is the opposite of quiet) and set to work. Oh yeah, and I brought the laptop out with me and threw in the Big 4 DVD on Megadeth.  
Well, with the laptop speakers and media player turned all the way up, while I was pedaling I could hear just enough of the music to kind of figure out what song was playing. Good thing I know the songs and can read lips. And then the battery died. This did not help my cause.
I was planning 90 minutes. Needed a good 90. At 30 I wanted to get off and I swear the only thing that kept me on the trainer was thinking about writing this blog and having to write, "30 minutes." That's right, Dirtbag friends, you all shamed me into sticking it out a little longer. But it was quickly obvious I wasn't making 90. Oh, I probably could have, but it would have degenerated into hate-riding. Chugging away at some ridiculously low cadence simply to get in time on the bike. And that sucks when you're out on the road, let alone on the treadmill of the bike world.
I had a workout planned. 15 minute warm-up, then 15 hard, 15 cool, 15 hard, repeat. It wasn't happening. I got some done, I got 60, which is better than 30 and way better than sitting on my ass, but I ain't happy about it.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Free Advice and a Confidence Builder

1 x 200- Warm-up
4 x 200- 100- 5, 7, 9/100- swim
5 x 50- Sideline kick
1 x 500- 50 easy/ 50 hard
5 x 100- decreasing stroke count each lap
1 x 100- Cool down

time- 1:00
distance- 6.27mi

I like the easy/ hard swim set. It makes the swim go by faster and it feels safer to really blow out those sprint laps because you know you can chill it out right after. If I were recommending a set to try out to a new swimmer, that would be high on the list. "Sprint" and "easy" are both relative terms and can be fluidly applied to anyone's workout. Plus, it makes the 500, or whatever set you choose to do with it, go by a lot quicker. And active rest, which is really what those easy laps are, is better than passive rest.
The decreasing stroke count set went well too. I started each 100 with 25 yards at 16 strokes. From there the stroke count normally went 15, 14, 13. Did I have to cheat a little off the walls with a super-glide to get to 13? On the middle two 100s I did. No worries. And the fifth hundred I actually did 16, 14, 14, 13 trying to really get the most bang for my buck. The goal is to balance speed with economy. You may have a low stroke count, but if the speed drops away then its not doing you a lick of good. But too high a count and you're wasting all kinds of energy. Swimming is all about the most bang for your buck.
The run was kind of a shock. I am not a runner and today I was expecting to lay down a fairly easy, slightly shorter run. But once I got out on the road things were moving nicely. The weather was cool and a little overcast, my legs were strong, and my stomach was calm. The latter point is important and if it continues will go a long way towards helping my run confidence come up.
I hit my turn-around at 30 minutes and decided to try and negative split this bad boy. I wasn't really thinking about it and I wasn't consciously pushing much harder than I had on the way out, but I did keep an eye on my pace. Love the Garmin. So helpful. And when I came in lo and behold I nearly cracked an hour. I missed the negative split by 12 seconds. I'm claiming I had to wait to cross one street and calling it even. As a run rundown (ain't I clever?), Thursday I was motivated and had a killed 6.5 mile run, Sunday I put together a decent long-for-me run of nearly eight miles, and today I had a strong 6.25. So either the other Vibram is about to drop right on to my head or I've finally started putting this run thing back together again.

Having a Supportive Spouse Makes All the Difference

My new active.com article is up. Check it out! Tell your friends.

Also, I've decided to join the 21st century and created an @DirtbagFitness Twitter account. I plan on only using it for active.com updates and highlighting posts here I'm exceptionally proud of, plus occasional race updates. So if you just can't get yourself enough Dirtbag you now have another venue from which to track my every move.

Monday, February 13, 2012

The Grind for XP*

1 x 200- Warm-up
10 x 100- 1:30ish
1 x 50- easy
3 x 200- 100-1, 2, 3, swim/ 50- thumb drag/ 50- swim
2 x 100 IM
1 x 100- Cool down
total- 2150yd

time- 1:27
distance- 22.97

Hit the pool this morning and almost immediately realized that today was not going to be one of those badass Tattooed Wake kind of days. It was going to be a Drag My Ass Through the Water kind of day instead. But those days happen, and they probably happen in training more than awesome killer smoke 'em days. These are The Grind kind of days, where you pile on distance, get some, and then go again tomorrow. They aren't sexy, they aren't much fun, but they do come with a sense of accomplishment when you fight through that and get it anyway.
I've mentioned a few times in talking with various people about swimming that I think every swimmer, and I include triathletes in that, should know and do every stroke. At least once in a while. I have a bunch of reasons for that but I'm kind of stocking them up for a future active.com article so you're going to have to wait until I'm able to put them together. Nevertheless, I hadn't hit anything but free in a long while and decided it was time to throw down an IM (Individual Medley). This, for those of you without chlorine in your blood streams, is x laps of butterfly, backstroke, breaststroke, freestyle. So a 100 IM means one lap of each. A hundred years ago I was a decent butterflier and IMer. My brain still remembers that. Here is what I think my fly should look like:

Here is what my fly probably actually looks like:

The Grind continued on the bike after school. It was one of those afternoons where the bike just didn't look appetizing. Gotta fight through that though. Henry Rollins once wrote that the hardest part of working out if putting on your shoes, and I believe that completely. If you can get those shoes on and get off the couch, you're going to work out. Too many people say they are going to work out, but never get past the saying it stage. Those of us who get up and get out, we conquer, we suffer, we bring it, and we excel and learn something new about ourselves.
Still, I wasn't going on a long ride. I waited too long to leave and would be riding in the dark if I went much over 90 minutes, so I headed to base and planned on getting up Kolekole a few times. Halfway up I found this.
Oh, ok then. No Dirtbag Fulla Holes, so I'll turn around. Got two laps in, charging as hard as I could up the medium-to-low grade of that section of Kolekole, staying in slightly heavier gears but trying to spin. Not bad.
Oh, one more this, Dirtbag Friends. This morning as I left the gym I found something very strange on my truck.
A chicken on the roof of my truck? Is someone, perhaps a certain yellow-clad someone, trying to send me a message?

*If you know what XP is and know why you have to grind for it sometimes congratulations, you're a Dirtbag Nerd too. 

Sunday, February 12, 2012

The Super Awesome Wife Answers

A few weeks ago I opened this forum to my readers, letting them ask the Super Awesome Wife any questions they had. Only a few questions were asked, and she did her best to answer them. So let's get to this.

Oooohhh. Fun!
1) What is the most embarrassing things(s) Doug has ever put you through? Feel free to use a separate piece of paper and you may stop after the first 50 or so.
Must think about this.  Nothing jumps to mind.  But there's probably something. [Ed. Note: Seriously, I bothered her forever about this and she swears I've never really embarrassed her. I must not be trying very hard. Even this didn't.]
2) How long has "The Dirtbag" been referring to himself in the 3rd person? And does this concern you? As in, "Grand High Master Dirtbag of the Universe and Beyond went to work this morning and his subjects did not bow to him..." (You might have already answered this in question #1)
At least as long as he has a blog.  Maybe as long as he's had a Facebook account.  Or maybe always, but I'm so used to it now I can't remember if I ever didn't hear it happen.  Luckily it occurs mainly in his written words, so I don't have to LISTEN to him refer to himself in the third person.  So far it has not been of any concern, but in the event that he starts referring to himself in the third person while talking we may have to find him help.  Do you know anyone in the field?

Grandalf the Grey:
1. How did the whole "dirtbag" nom de plume begin? Is it a term of endearment you use at home? (My wife uses a similar one, it starts with "sack of...")
It's a name he gave himself.  It started sometime in the first year of us dating, and it was when his hair had started growing out during a week he didn't shave.  The hair had reached a point of no longer looking okay without hair gel and he said he looked like a dirtbag.  I said something to the effect of “I like my dirtbag.”  Then we went on a 12-day motorcycle ride and he called himself Dirtbag the entire trip.  In fact, he came up with “rider” names for all of us.  If you look through the archives in his other blog you can find out all about that adventure.  The name is not a term of endearment used at home.  I don't think I've ever called out “Dirtbag” while hoping to gain his attention.
2. Does he wear his hair long and have a goatee because he is a metalhead, or is it really because he has a secret fantasy of being a wizard?
It's because he wants you to think he's a metal head, and because he has a secret fantasy about being a wizard.  Professor Snape to be exact.  If he finds out wizards aren't real he'll probably decide he wants to be a Jedi instead. [Ed. Note: Pirate. Duh.]
3.Does he steal your hair care products?
Nearly all of them.  To be fair I don't have many.  Mostly he's after the hair ties and my brush.  And if we go somewhere he needs to use my comb because he never remembers to bring his own.  The only thing he hasn't stolen is my hair clips.  I don't have to worry about my shampoo or conditioner though.  He has his own.  For a while there though, he did have more products than I – because he was using hair gel.

1. What did you do in the Army before getting your medical discharge?
I was an intelligence analyst.
2. Are Doug's students scared of him when they first see him in his long hair and tattoos?
Nah, they've all been hoping since at least the third grade that they would end up in his class.  One fourth grader (who actually didn't end up in his class) has been hoping to be in his class since kindergarten. [Ed. Note: Children have a much more acute bullshit detector than adults do and they read me instantly. They know I'm playing too.]
3. Does Doug obsess about how is going to fit in a training session?
Yes.  And he turns into Mr. Grumpy Pants if he misses them.  But he's worst when he's hungry.
4. Where are you folks from?
I grew up in the Pacific Northwest near Seattle.  After the army I spent a lot of time in Colorado.  Doug grew up in Southern California, near LA.  We met here in Hawaii.

The Maple Grove Barefoot Guy:
How do you feel about Dirtbag's seemingly ridiculous training schedule?
The training schedule seems a little out of hand sometimes.  And every now and then it is incredibly annoying because there is something I want to do but it has to fit in around his workout.  Or I want to stay home but he's already left for a destination where I have to meet him in half an hour.  Mostly though it isn't a problem.  I just finished a graduate program so most of the training was happening while I was studying or asleep.
Would you like to do more races and other sorts of senseless acts of fitness?
I have begun doing my own random acts of fitness.  Mostly walking.  It doesn't interfere with my intense water phobia or fear of two-wheeled things.  I would run, but I gave it up when I left the army.  I did the 5k of Sharon's ride/run/walk and the Women's 5k.  I am planning to do the three events in the Women's run series [Ed. Note: the Tri Fitness 5k, HPH 10k, and Wahine Half Marathon] .  Mostly because after the out loud thought of “you're crazy” when people said they'd done a marathon or half marathon I would secretly think “hey, that's kinda neat. Too bad running sucks.”  Then I found out I could walk the events and I decided to go for it.
How do you like living in Hawaii? 
Living in Hawaii is alright.  Sometimes I miss winter because I enjoy skiing.  I've also reached the point in my life where I think maybe having a couple of kids would be a fun thing to do, which makes me wonder how much longer I can afford to live here.
How do you feel about Doug lifting my idea to do a post like this? Feel like he lacks creativity?
It isn't too bad, I did answer the questions. [Ed. Note: To be fair, it worked really well for you. And if teaching taught me anything, it's steal good ideas.]

So there we go, folks. This first Ask the Super Awesome Wife Answers. It was fun. Maybe we'll try again in a while. Keep an eye out for Super Awesome Write-Ups about the random acts of fitness she's been undertaking recently.

An Long Run

time -1:21
distance- 7.65

Well, it was a long run. It was a long run after a rough day on the bike. It was a my longest run of the training session so far.And I walked three times. I'm not sweating the walking though, its better than letting my pace completely drop through the floor. In all honestly, I don't have a lot to say about today's run. So instead I'm going to post this, then post the answers to the Ask Super Awesome Wife blog. So there.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

DSQ: Shattered

time- approx. 5:00*
distance- approx. 70mi*

*I looked at my Garmin last night, saw that the battery was at a bar and a half and thought that should be fine. I was wrong.**

**This happens a lot

Tough day out on the bike, Dirtbag friends. Good day, but at the end there I was hurting it up. Diesel was getting three laps going from Dillingham airport up to Helemano and back. One lap is about 35mi. The Grey and I planned to join him at the top of his first lap, but we missed each other by a few minutes so we headed down Pineapple on our own.
It is still cold here. I need to pick up some of those sleeves for the cool mornings, plus they will protect the Dirtbag guns (very distracting) from the sun when I leave the house without putting on some screen. Again.
The Grey and I were out to the airport and turned around when Diesel passed us going the other direction. He soon caught us and the Three Amigos were back together. Until Diesel turned on the gas on the way up Pineapple and left us behind. I had a good ride up the first lap. Strong, pretty quick. I thought the boded well for the future. Wrong!**
Back down Pineapple and off to the airport. Below is how I look and sound on nearly every descent I ride.

I began to realize the ride back was not going to be all peaches and cream when I heard Diesel and the Grey talking about how lucky we had been with the headwind earlier. There hadn't been one. I'd noticed too but I didn't say anything because the cycling gods can hear you and they laugh at your silly hubris. And right after (Seriously! Right. After.) the words were out of their mouths here comes the wind. It would be the fourth amigo for the remainder of the ride. As we hit the bottom of Pineapple I looked at the Grey and said, "This isn't going to be good." And it wasn't. So I was right, which is nice.
There were points where I felt strong, points where the cadence came up and I felt like someone who had been riding a bike for over a year. And there were points where I was 75% sure I was going to yak and I wondered if I would be able to get off my bike before I did it. Doing so much Pineapple has shortened it mentally and I know the stages of the hill well now. So while powering up it ceased to be an option, getting some was and I got as much as I could. At the top we were supposed to head all the way to the guard shack but I was feeling pretty shattered and opted to go home instead.
This is the kind of Dirtbag Suffering Quotient which will make me strong and fast. I see you, Lance-a-little.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Stoopid Heater/Mental Run

1 x 200
Jump into spa for five minutes

time- 1:02
distance- 6.5mi

I got to the pool this morning shivering. As I said my last workout post it has been unseasonably cold here on da island. Thursday morning was no exception. It might have been a little worse. I dipped my big toe in and my whole body went, "Woah now! That's freaking cold!"
"Suck it up," said the Tattooed Wake. "We've swum in colder."
"Maybe. But this is gonna suck," my body replied.
The Tattooed Wake was right, but my body was more right. I eased into the water and it didn't get any better. There is an older woman who is always in the pool when I get there, kicking back and forth on a noodle. "It's really cold," I called to her. We don't normally talk, I'm there to work and I'm not friendly when I'm trying to swim. We greet each other. But today I needed someone else to confirm that the water was, in fact, freezing.
"It is really cold. I talked to the office people and they went and checked. They said the heater switch was off. They just turned it back on like ten minutes ago."
Oh. I didn't need to know that. I decided I would do the warm-up and once my blood got flowing I would create a bubble of Dirtbag warmth which would protect me.
Wrong. I did two hundred yards and was still breath-catchingly cold so I decided I was not going to get quality anything going and hopped into the spa. Ahhhhh, warm.
So I spent the day moderately annoyed I didn't get to swim, but at least Monday and Tuesday were quality swims. Then I received a strange, yet motivating email. And that got into my head for the whole run, which was easily the best run I've had on this training cycle. My pace fade from mile 1 to mile 6 is pretty steep, but I'm not sweating it. If I can put together at least one run a week that feels this good I'm going to be happy. A lot of it had to do with not thinking about the run and being excited about taking down Mr. Larmstrong.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Challenge: Accepted

Dirtbag Friends, today I received the strangest email. Rather than try to explain it to you, I have copied it over.

To: dirtbagfitness@hotmail.com
From: larmstrong@yellowbracelet.org
Re: It's On

Mr. Dirtbag,
I have been tracking your progress closely and I see that you are finally ready. I thought this day would be years coming, but you seem to have quite a talent. A talent, I am afraid, I must now crush, along with your spirit. Prepare to be destroyed, Mr. Dirtbag. I am going to break you like Ivan Drago broke that old guy from The Expendables. You don't stand a chance. I look forward to June 2, when I shall dance on the ashes of your dreams. 
Prepare yourself, Mr. Dirtbag. Prepare and weep.
-L. Armstrong

Dirtbag friends, I must admit that at first I had no idea what was going on or who this Mr. Larmstrong was. Then I was forwarded this link twice independently, once by Brother Diesel and once by Brother Tri Cook. Wait, Mr. Larmstrong is actually Lance Armstrong? Seven time Tour de France champion Lance Armstrong? Senior Yellow Jersey himself? And he is calling me out? Who does this guy think he is? Obviously, he is getting delusional in his old age and he knows that in order to truly perform he needs a real challenge. Hence, the above email.
Well, Dirtbag friends, I can not and will not take something like this. I see a war of many words between now and Judgement Day. But to correctly respond to something of this magnitude a simple typed response won't do. No, there is only one possible way to respond to such a heinous and grievous assault:
Cut a WWE-style Dirtbag Promo.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Brrrr (but Hawaiian)

Swim (Tuesday)
1 x 200- warm-up
4 x 500- 1) 7:18
              2) 7:14
              3) 7:16
              4) 6:59
1 x 100- Cool down
total- 2300yd

time- 2:05
distance- 31mi

I think the 4 x 500 swim set is going to be a good measuring stick going forward in my training. I couldn't be happier about how those times look for where I am. The splits are exactly like I would have predicted for a 4x set. I'd only done 200yd before the first one, so it acted as an extended warm-up and of course is a little slower. The second is where I start feeling my groove and dig in, putting in a quicker time than the first. The third is where two things happen. 1- fatigue begins to set in and 2- the brain starts thinking ahead to really pounding the last one. So it is slightly slower. And the fourth one is where you realize you've got seven minutes of hard swimming left and damn it, you can push anything hard for seven minutes. I actually thought the wheels were going to come off during number four. I went out way too hard and struggled to get the pace fixed in the middle third so that the last 150 yards were grit-your-teeth-and-go hard. The most difficult part of finishing this set strong? Keeping the stroke from going to hell just because you're pushing. Technique trumps GAAAAA MUST HAVE ALL THE FASTER SWIM GO NOW KICK PULL GRAB FLAIL every time. The most difficult part of the set? Not falling asleep during it. Long sets like that can be a challenge just because it's easy to get black line hypnosis. And when that happens everything falls away.
Pictured: The Weather Right Now
The ride was a pleasant surprise because I didn't think I was going to get to ride outside at all. The weather here has been pants on head crazy and I honestly was expecting pouring rain or cats and dogs falling from the sky or possible locusts. Instead I got bloody wind. Wind that meant there was some pedaling going downhill. Few things cyclists hate more than pedaling downhill. I don't know if it gave me a push going back up Pineapple, so I'm going to say it didn't and take complete credit for my decent time. Instead of whipping around and hitting it again I decided to head to base and tackle Kolekole, since I haven't done that in a while. I don't know if its gotten shorter or flatter but it sure isn't as bad as it used to be, Still isn't great and I'm not flying up it like I think I should be, but it you check out the elevation chart below you'll see a pretty steady pace over a solid grade.
You know what else wind does? It makes you freaking cold. Especially jamming downhill in lycra and sweat. And I don't want to hear it from you mainland people still in the midst of "winter" and dealing with "snow". Whatever. I'm used to 75* so my It's Cold Now gauge is broken.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Dirtbag is an Active.com contributor!!!

I have been in contact with one of the active.com  content editors about getting a semi-regular gig contributing to the website and those conversations have come to fruition. My first post is up on their website! Its an edited version of the book review I wrote over the summer of Matt Fitzgerald's excellent RUN: The Mind Body Method of Running By Feel. I'm really excited to have something up on this site. The plan is to have regular original Dirtbag content going up two to three times a month, stuff that I might start here but elaborate on there and things that I've been thinking about for a while but haven't figured out how to work into the blog. Fear not, regular readers (both of you), there will be plenty of Dirtbag goodness to go around here still. This is represents yet another step along the path of complete and total world domination.
One more time, in case you missed it above, here's the link: http://www.active.com/running/Articles/Book-Review-Run-by-Matt-Fitzgerald.htm.

I Will Not Yell At My Bike...

1 x 200- Warm-up
5 x 100- 1, 2, 3, Swim
5 x 200- 100-5, 7, 9/100- long
3 x 50- Sideline kick
1 x 100- Cool down
total- 2050yd

time- XX
distance- 9ish mi FLAT!!!

Swim was positive, I think my swims are going to be coming around finally. It wasn't awesome, but for a drill-focus day it wasn't bad. Low heart rate, low DSQ even during the 5, 7, 9 set. I like using that set as an indicator for anaerobic fitness. When I can push the 100 and maintain the 5, 7, 9 rhythm without wanting to die I know I'm doing well. Was nearly there yesterday.
My ride was one of those frustrating ones. There were a few factors going in.
1) I haven't had a good, 9 workout week yet in this training cycle. It's nobody's fault, but its not making me pleased. I wanted this week to start off right so I could get all my workouts in.
2) Weather. It was raining on and off all afternoon by my house and I knew that I'd get a little wet in the first ten miles, but after that the sky looked clear-ish.
And then I flatted nine miles in. With GatorSkins! I saw and heard it happen. Saw the patch and thought, "Crap, I bet there's something in there," but couldn't avoid it without becoming a lycra hood ornament. Then I heard the noise, but maintained hope. Maybe, just maybe I was wrong. I'm ok. The bike seems-no, no it doesn't. Back tire is tracking wrong. Damnit.
So I pulled across the street into the parking lot of a driving range and set about looking for the culprit. I found a most tiny shard of glass which I picked out, but when I investigated the inner side of the tube I felt no holes, no punctures, no flat-making anything. Musta got it. Threw in a new tube, cracked the CO2, checked it, and was ready to go. I admit, when I checked it I did think, briefly, that the tire didn't seem quite as full as it had a few seconds previous. Whatever, it's just me being pessimistic.
You want to know what's better than getting a flat tire in scattered showers? Getting one, fixing it, then having the new tube immediately go flat. I had two spares in my bike bag, so I was ready for this, but it still ruined my ride. The plan was to ride all the way into town to meet Super Awesome Wife. But two flats means I add at least 20 minutes to my ride time. A ride time that dances right on the edge of finishing as darkness falls (Why does darkness always fall? Is it because it can't see the steps?) when all goes well. Two flats means I'll be finishing well into No Cars Can See Dirtbag Bikers time, which isn't safe and doesn't make for happy biking. So I texted Super Awesome Wife for a pick-up, fixed my flat*, and waited. One person did stop and offer me help, which I thought was very nice.
*"Fixed my flat" should be read "took the tire off and the tube out and ran my fingers along the inner and outer edges of the tire shouting at nothing, 'There is no puncture! There is no problem here! Why did you go flat!? I spent $45 on you so you wouldn't do this!' and then, feeling nothing amiss, decided to see if I could waste another tube by trying again."**
**As of this morning this tube still has all the air in it, of course. Must have been a pinch flat. Though there are two tiny divots in my tire, but neither show through to the inside.
Possible Bright Side: The drive into town revealed my weather predicting abilities to be right in line with my football predicting abilities. Which is to say, really really bad. I'm pretty sure I would have been rained on with little-to-moderate intensity for 75% of my ride. So there's that then.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Cleansing and Looking Inside Thyself (Dirtbag and the Tube Pt. 2)

For Pt. 1 click here
(Two Warnings: 1) This post got a little long with all three sections, the pictures, and my inability to care about word count on my own blog. 2) There are pictures from the doctor at the end. You can't really tell what they are, but if your squeamish then stop at the words.)
Section One: Adventures in Not Eating
It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. That, by far, was the most surprising thing about my Thursday/Friday adventure. It wasn't really that bad. It wasn't great. I'm not getting back in line to do it again. But I really feel like the whole experience could have been so much worse.
My last meal was Thursday morning before school. Normally, I grab a granola bar and that keeps me until recess, when I have a few crackers, which keeps me until lunch. If it's a swim morning then there is a Cliff Bar in there somewhere too. But doctor's orders were no solid food for 24 hours prior to the procedure. Proving, once again, that she is the Super Awesome Wife, Super Awesome Wife woke up earlier than she normally does and made me egg and garlic rice for breakfast. Got some protein, some starch, its filling without being too much. Excellent choice. Dirtbag spoiled.
School, I thought, was going to be rough. As I said in part one, I don't run well hungry. But I have an excellent group of students and they were behaved enough that none ended up spread across the ceiling. *Teacher Note: If you hear a teacher complain about their entire class on a regular basis, then the problem is not the students. The problem is the teacher. You set the tone. Which is why I have the strangest kids in the school every year.* It was strange to send them away at recess and not grab a snack. My brain told me to three times and it had to be reminded what was going on. Lunch is normally had with the rest of the fourth grade teachers and the fifth grade teachers, but they were microwaving and eating and there was too much food smell for me. Back to my room to write sub plans.I did get to eat some Jello. Mmmm, lime.
Section Two: The Cleansing
Doctor's orders were to begin ingesting the Colyte at 4pm, drinking 8oz every ten minutes for as long as I could tolerate it until the Jug of Destruction was half gone. Take a break until 8pm and then follow the same directions until finished.
I got home from school just after four. Sometimes it's nice to have the rest of your day all mapped out. One Beatles glass, filled to just about the middle bar in the "E", is 8oz. Bottom's up.


Now, you don't want to know the details of destruction and I don't want to talk about it too much. So let's go back to the top and be reminded that it really wasn't that bad. The mix wasn't great tasting and got worse as the night went on, but I chugged each of those glasses like a frat boy trying to convince the friends he paid to have he has self-worth so taste wasn't an issue unless it got on my lips. There's another frat boy joke there somewhere. I made it four rounds before I needed a break and did 20 minutes instead of ten. And the effects kicked around an hour after glass number one.
I spent the rest of the night going back and forth from the library to the couch. I felt lighter by the time I went to bed and only woke up once or twice thinking, "Oh no," and rushing across the hall. Thinking about it now, I should have weighed myself at four and again in the morning. The Dirtbag Ego did think, "Oh man, I am going to be so ripped Friday morning. Sweet." That guy is crazy.
Section Three: Sweet Dreams
Friday was an earlier morning than it needed to be because our choice was either get up and wait at the doctor's office, or sleep in a little and sit in traffic. I, frankly, will wait somewhere for hours if it means I don't have to deal with traffic. 
We got there, got checked in, I got my first of two nifty wristbads, and the waiting began. I'm not the most chatty person most of the time, less so in the morning, and way less so when it's the morning, I haven't eaten, my bowels are cleaner than a nun's knickers, and I'm waiting for a guy to stick a camera in my butt. So I read John Dies At The End on my Nook (more on this later) and waited as patiently as I know how. Super Awesome Wife is the most understanding person. Oh yeah, did I mention it was her birthday? Happy birthday, honey!
They took me back and had me change into one of those robes that doesn't close in the back. I have no body issues whatsoever and I don't care about walking around with the Dirtbag caboose exposed to the world. "Lucky them," the Dirtbag Ego thinks. But the nice nurse lady deftly grabbed the gown and closed it as she walked me to my bed. Pretty sure this was the first time Super Awesome Wife had to suppress a giggle at my expense.
I want to mention something about the bed. Hospitals are not known for their comfortable temperatures so to keep my toasty there was a little heater box on the floor with a hose running from it to the covers by my feet, blowing warm air on the Dirtbag piggies. I want one. And I'm going to put it on her side of the bed so that my legs don't have to act as a personal heating device.
Fear the Wristband!

Hospital gowns ams metals

Heater Buddy

Super Awesome Knitting

Good thing my arms aren't covered in hair

Super Awesome Fingerless Gloves

We waited back there for about an hour. I got an IV buddy and then we were pretty much left alone. There are moments in times like this when you think thoughts that aren't healthy and when What If's spring to mind because you never do know and sometimes routine isn't really. But Super Awesome Wife was there and that made it better. I also spent a lot of time texting friends and family updates and taking pictures of my little alcove. I was going to read more of John Dies At the End, but then I thought, "You know, this is a book about guys who take a psychedelic drug which allows them to see demons and other hell-stuff. A well-written book. Perhaps this is not the best last thing to sink into my subconscious before they put me under." So instead I went to grantland.com on my phone and read Bill Simmons' Super Bowl Mailbag. Better choice.
The nurse and doctor came and got me, I said good-bye to Super Awesome Wife, and away I was wheeled. They turned me onto my side and told me what the plan was. The nice nurse tried to cover me up a little better, "to make me comfortable," and I told her, "Thanks, but in a minute I am going to have no secrets, so I'm ok." I watched the doctor inject a milky liquid into my IV heard him say, "Pleasant dreams," and pat my shoulder. Then the world went italics.
The very last piece of dream I remember before coming all the way back was something about football. I can still see it, players on a field. So I guess not reading the book about demons was a good choice.
I have never been drunk. Point of fact, I have never had a drink of any type of alcohol. No drugs either. The only other times I've been messed up are when they took out my wisdom teeth, and when they did a lithotripsy to get at some kidney stones. Colonoscopy > lithotripsy. You think your butt is a place they shouldn't be sticking a tube, there is only one easy way to a kidney. So I felt really messed up coming out of the sleep they put me in. "Come on, Mr. Robertson, lets get you up and into the recovery room. No no, this way, here, let me help you, hold on to me." There was no walking in a straight line. Straight lines did not exist. Woo, I did not enjoy that feeling. The doctor told me later they had used a little more anesthetic than normal on me and the nurse called me a light-weight. Truth.
Super Awesome Wife came back and tried not to laugh at me again. "You look wasted, honey." The doctor came in and gave us the low down, and it was a good thing she was there because I have no idea what he was talking about. I do know he said there was nothing out of the ordinary that he saw, and he took a few biopsies which he'll send to the lab and we'll talk about next Friday when I come back in.
I was feeling better but still not completely clear as I staggered back out the truck. The Quote of the Day goes to Super Awesome Wife as I weaved along the sidewalk to the parking garage. "You look like a drunk who is trying very hard not to look drunk." And then she did laugh at me. In the truck we both decided it was a shame I didn't have any Pink Floyd because that would have been perfect and I finally would have understood what the hell The Wall was about, so instead we popped in The Ultimate Jimi Hendrix Experience and went home, where we ate and passed out.
Dave's not here, man
 I'm feeling no ill effects, though I think this whole weekend will be rest and recovery anyway and I'll be back in training on Monday. I expect to write a Part 3 after Friday with any updates and information the doctor provides.
And now, the doctor photos. So if you aren't interested in what the inside of my backside looks like you should probably stop now. And I have no idea what I'm looking at, but I think it's cool. How often do you get to see what you look like on the inside?
Overview page

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Appetite Suppression (Dirtbag and the Tube Pt. 1)

Swim (Monday)
1 x 200- Warm-up

Run (Tuesday)
time- 1:00
distance- 6.06mi

This was a self-imposed recovery week, even though it's not in the right place for a recovery week in the plan. I think this is why neither of the above workouts were very good. My swim was slow and pretty awful, and the run was a low energy affair.
I'm recovering because I have a procedure on Friday morning. Those of you following closely may have noticed a regular refrain is the GI issues, especially when I run. This is not the only time in my life these symptoms crop up and Super Awesome Wife finally grabbed me by the ear and lead me to a doctor.
One of the first things you notice, or at least I notice, when sitting and talking to a GO specialist is how fat his fingers look from the paper-covered table. Seriously, sausage fingers. That's...not reassuring. After listening to me tell him about the problems I've been having he decided the best course of action would be to take a look. *More Information Than You Bargained For When You Clicked On This Warning* So, on Friday morning, he's going to stick a camera up my butt.
Ok, first thing- I've written those words three other times in emails letting close friends know what is going on. Every single time I write, "stick a camera up my butt," I giggle. It is, possibly, one of the funniest sounding sentences I've ever written. There are better, more professional, more sterile ways to say it. "I am having an exploratory colonoscopy," comes to mind. But that's boring at not nearly as funny.
Anyway, he's going to be looking for signs of oddness through my intestines and I'm going to twilight unconscious on his table. And Super Awesome Wife is going to be jittering in the waiting room.
When you have an appointment for a sausage-fingered doctor to take a tube and gently place it into a section of your body which is only meant for waste removal, all waste must first be removed. Otherwise his pictures will only prove what people have been telling me for years. So Thursday morning I get to eat breakfast. And then I don't get to eat again until after the procedure Friday morning. For reference- I once killed a man because I hadn't eaten 45 minutes after a bike workout and he nearly stepped on my foot. I'm much more concerned with not eating for 24 hours than I am with the whole "camera in my butt" thing. I fear for my marriage. Super Awesome Wife is preparing herself. And that's why I haven't worked out hard and disregarded my planned bike ride today. Riding makes me hungry. I don't want to be feeding the beast tonight. I want to conserve.
But not eating is not the only part of the procedure preparation. You also have to cleanse, clean, clear out, and flush. I see lots of flushing in my near future. Sitting beside me waiting to be filled is the most depressing gallon jug I have ever seen. At the bottom is a magic powder which, when mixed with water, will cause everything in my body to rush towards the southernmost exit. I have to drink half of this evil gallon after school and the second half a few hours later. At some point during this I will wonder if I died of dehydration.

The Jug of Destruction

I don't really think this expression needs a caption, do you?

Early Friday morning Super Awesome Wife and I will make the drive to the doctor's office and he will do that voodoo that he do for doodoo.
I am not worried about the procedure. I'll be out, there shouldn't be any pain. Honestly, surgery pain doesn't worry me too much. I've passed half a dozen kidney stones, one big one while camping in New Zealand. I know internal pain. If all goes well there should be little to no recovery time and I should be able to workout Saturday and Sunday. Wait a moment, Sunday is the Super Bowl...I might need to recover that day by eating. You know, to regain strength or something (Go Pats*).
Since the internet is the home of the Overshare, and I think it will be interesting, I will be asking for copies of whatever media they take during the investigation. And if they are cool, I am totally going to post them.

*It is well known among friends that I cannot pick football games, baseball games, hockey games, tennis matches, WWE matches, coin flips, pre-taped events, or pick-a-hand correctly**, so I probably just doomed the Patriots to failure. If the game ends 51-3 Giants it's probably my fault. Sorry, Tom.
**though I will kick your ass in Rock, Paper, Scissors. Bring it.