Alright, I've been badgered from urry urrngle about blogging but that's not why I'm writing. I just watched a Woody Allen movie and I'm all tensed up and thought this would be a nice way to unwind.
Editor's Note: The Old Coot gets into some shit here, so if you don't like foul language or hearing the truth about stuff, please point your web browser elsewhere. The rest of you, come on in.But For Real
A couple of weeks ago I started to get the feeling that I was losing creative control over my day-to-day life. You remember when Dave Chapelle turned down the $50M contract and fled to Africa? Well, it was a lot like that only it was free and I just stayed home.
I won't get into details, because to most people it would only come across as whining. And what does a swinging bachelor like me have to complain about anyway? I have nothing but free time, right? Right, that's the problem right there. Why shouldn't I do one more thing I don't want to do? It'll make someone else happy, and I have no real reason not to.
Yeah, well that culminated in a near breakdown. I was literally on the hairy edge, ready to snap at the next person who so much as asked me if I wanted free money. I was closing in on being late to my Thursday Night Run (which you know I love) and the guy I work for said "So you working this weekend?" (which you know I hate). I looked him right in the face and laughed at him, but he wasn't laughing. He suggested I speak to the manager about some sort of alternative compensation. You see, overtime has been squashed as part of a company-wide re-evaluation of our work-life balance, so now we have more crises and nobody wants to put in any extra effort. HEY, ASK THE SINGLE GUY! HE'S GOT NOTHING TO DO!
I told him I was in no way agreeing to ever work overtime, but I'd speak to the manager because it seemed important to him, like there was more to it than having me work a few extra days each week. I was right, there was an agenda and it wasn't necessarily for me to work any extra but rather to get the message to management that nobody wants to fucking work for free.
Then I missed my run and like the bitch I am I stayed later than everyone else (for free) and finished up something I knew would be negated by an arbitrary high-level decision first thing Monday morning.
Fast forward to Monday morning - my work was not only for naught, but I had to undo it.
Whoa, I guess I went into detail.But That Was Weeks Ago
Yeah, so I've been spending a lot of greedy, selfish, introspective time with the most understanding person I know, no god damn body. I gotta tell ya, it's been great. I do whatever I damn well feel like doing, whenever I damn well feel like doing it, and if someone doesn't like it that's too bad. I don't accommodate!
I don't get into the eggstra juicy details on this here blogge for obvious reasons. I'm sure if we all took a step back there'd be something about ourselves we don't want published on the internet. What I will say is I have really been enjoying this break; man did I need it.So What's New?
Well, I've started training for a half marathon in a couple of months. It's a three-month training plan that goes against every fiber in my running body. My fibers all say "Run as fast as you can, as long as you can, then criticize yourself and push harder tomorrow". But the guy who wrote this plan has me taking "easy" days - slow, slow, slow pace for short distances and only one speed work day a week.
The first few weeks were tough. Getting yourself psyched to run 4 miles (sorry, that's a short distance) in the 34 degree blowing rain is tough. If I'm going to run in the cold and wind and rain it better be for 10+ miles, dammit! But I'm sticking true to the plan and it's paying off handsomely.
The most notable feature of this new style is that I'm not sore anymore. I kind of forgot what it was like to not walk around in agony every day of my life. You get used to a certain amount of pain and just deal with it, but it turns out you can be a real runner and not have all of your muscles, tendons and joints ache every day of the week. Huh, who knew?So You're Running Less? Then What?
Well, with all of my extra free time I've been practicing yoga. I'll wait while you laugh.
Yeah, so on top of all the other non-masculine things I do why play the y-card? Because I'm freaking selfish, remember? If you haven't tried yoga, and I don't mean take a class because some chick you like is going, but actually tried, you should. It just makes you feel good.
I actually get up early and spend some time with a few sequences that uplift me for the day. It's easy to keep going once you've started too, because at the end is not a big chocolate cake you're dying to eat but on the contrary, work.
And then after one of those weak 3-milers on my schedule I take an hour or so (no clocks, that's my rule) and go through some poses. After that a nice 9:00 PM supper, brush my teeth and hit the hay. All that leaves no time for blogging.
So there you have it home bizzles and home grizzles. I have a few unposted rants, but I think this one will make it through editing and publication.
P.S. Oh man, I finished up my taxes today and it feels great. I'm so lazy about that, but now that it's done I just have to sit back and wait for the cash to roll back in. Oh, and by finish I mean I still have to e-file but that's Monday after I print out all 283 forms for my records.
Now for bed, I have to run in the morning!
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Don't Get Your Hopes Up
Friday, January 25, 2008
Beat It, Nerds
Quick rant. I would estimate that half of my blog traffic comes from nerds searching for a very specific picture of The Invisible Woman. I won't even post a link to this picture here, lest I should attract more nerd-specific traffic. Suffice it to say, this shit has got to stop, nerds. Go back home to your mamas, put on your Batman mask, crack open a bottle of YooHoo and for Christ's sake toss those nasty faded black jeans you've been wearing for the last 2 months into the laundry. Yes, that's a washing machine down in the basement next to your bed. Hell, your mom would probably even wash them shits for you.
I'd delete the picture from that post, but I shouldn't have to. It's not my fault that these nerds can't control themselves. Why should I have to suffer?
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Get the Whole Story Here...
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Westward Bound
Happy Tri-Centennial. This is our 300th Issue of The Rantings of an Old Coot.
Wednesday morning I awoke to my alarm, lounged in bed in the knowledge that all I had to do today was pack up for the weekend, get the cats ready, run a quick errand or two and go into autopilot for a few hours. At the end of all that I'd be in Buffalo casually relaxing for a few days, eating Thanksgiving dinner and running a Turkey Trot.The Check Engine Light
Let me set the stage for you. It's November 21st, 11:00 AM and I just stopped to top of the ole gas tank before driving for 6 hours. According to my odometer I've traveled a hair over 4 miles when, wouldn't you know it, the check engine light (CEL) comes on. I'll be damned. From what I understand the CEL is almost always en emission issue, so short of creating a little more pollution (maybe I'll get one less mile per gallon, which over 12 gallons is not a problem) and spending a few extra cents driving out to the 'lo it's not a big deal. BUT, my inspection is up in December (9 days away) and it'll fail if the CEL is on. Excellent! There will be no putting this damn task off.
A few miles down the road it dawns on me that when I topped off the gas tank, the gas cap just didn't feel quite right. I pulled over at my earliest convenience, took the cap off, put it back on real good and hoped for the best. The light would never go off for the entire drive, but those things can take a while. I was not overly worried.
At a rest stop I took a few moments to jot down the details of my trip so I would remember to pass them along to all y'all and I noticed that the last thing I wrote in my little notebook was P0031 - the fault code from the last time my CEL was on.In-Car Snacks
With little more than an orange Check Engine Light, the occasional tail light and the dirt on my glasses to look at, I passed the time by looking into other people's cars and judging them. DVDs playing? Bad parents. Radar detector? Scofflaw. Navigation system? Directionally challenged. Nevermind that I have a radar detector and navigation system, that's not important. What I found to be the most fun was seeing what people eat while driving.
I'm sure we're all familiar with the standard in-car snacks: coffee, huge slices of pizza, Cinnabon cinnamon rolls, and so on. I myself had pretzels, bananas, apples and a granola bar. Nothing funny about those things. Then there was the woman who came swerving out of a rest stop. I thought for sure she was trying to stir a coffee or eat soup, but she was not. Of all things to be eating A) while driving and B) on a cold November day, she had a big ass ice cream cone.
If you've ever eaten an ice cream cone, you're probably well aware of the mess it can make if you don't stay on top of it. Add the fact that she's probably got the heat blasting, and it was a recipe for disaster. Chuckling in amazement to myself, I then proceeded to drink from my 32 ounce wide-mouth Nalgene bottle which, under the most controlled circumstances, is a freaking mess. How I managed to keep from pouring it down the sides of my face I'll never know.Race Packet Pickup
Before ending my trip at the family homestead, I stopped by the Young Men's Christian Association (YMCA) to pick up my race packet for the morning's Turkey Trot. By this time it was pouring rain out, and I was quite drenched by the time I got into the building. I waltzed up to the table for last names G-L, announced myself and received my timing chip and bib number. She asked if I would like a small or extra large t-shirt, to which I replied 'No'. I would have actually preferred a medium, but I was SOL. I took a small, thinking if it didn't fit well I could at least wear it under something. Like the pile of Red Cross t-shirts I've received over the years, an XL would never be worn.
Passing by the racks of discounted running gear for sale by Runner's Roost, I nabbed a jacket I've been eyeing for years. It was 50% off which put it down to a reasonable splurge for yours truly. In the morning, it proved a welcome addition to my running wardrobe since it was the only sleeved windbreaker I had. Excellent!
When I got home I dug through my race bag to collect all of my goodies. Usually these bags are stuffed with granola bars, strange jelly bean style food supplements, and coupons. Apparently mine had already been pawed through, leaving me with only the latter - coupons for shit I don't need. Oh yeah, hair bands for my close-cropped hair. Excellent.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
I've Got the Trots
Ha ha, gotcha. You saw that headline and couldn't help but to read about what you thought was something nasty. Instead, you've been duped...Bizack on Trizack
Yesterday, I had the trots. I trotted around the local HS track during Tuesday Night Track Club, hosted by and primarily attended by, yours truly. I'm working on a few race goals that I won't mention here because either: A) Frankly, my dears, you don't give a damn, B) You might give a damn but my goals are embarrassingly slow, or C) You would be so jealous of my speedy goals (in addition to your growing jealousy of my killer good looks and fabulous lifestyle) that you'll drive by my house and bust a few warning caps through my picture window's ass. Whichever the case, I don't like the outcome.
Since you asked, Tuesday Night Track Club reached an all-time high record attendance last night of two people. There's nothing formal at all about it, and in fact the term 'club' is really misleading. It's not so much a club as much as it is me trying to get people to come run at the track with me because I'm afraid of the high school riff-raff that might be loitering about, trying to rob my fine, fine ass. Of course, all they'd get is a lesbian-mobile and maybe a bottle of Gatorade if they're lucky, but they don't know that.I've Got the Trots
Next on my agenda of Trot-related bloggetry are the two upcoming Trots I'm signed/signing up for. The first, The Brock Trot is next weekend down in Lenox, MA. It's a 10K fund raiser for The Brock Wilkerson Memorial Cancer Research Fund. Seriously, the application says to "Make checks payable to The Brock Wilkerson Memorial Cancer Research Fund". Try to fit all that shit on a check. Christ!
Oops, now when someone Googles that race they'll find my public complaint.
Last year I ran that race in a sailor costume, complete with embellished arms. Originally, the plan was for everyone from my running crew to show up in costume, but apparently they didn't take that as seriously as I did, and I was the lone costume wearer. Whatever, I smoked them fools anyway!
This year I'll be wearing the same costume and pushing for a PR in the 10K distance. Since I've only run one other 10K, that should be easy.
The next Trot I'm signed up for is the 112th Annual Turkey Trot in B-lo. My sister used to run it with me, but she's since moved far, far away and doesn't want to make the drive. I've tried to get my mom to walk it with me, but she's not interested. Instead, I'm gonna line up at the front and show some people how it's done. Ya hurrrrd!Folgers Whitening
As I sipped the second half of my second cup of coffee this morning, a co-worker and fellow Cheap Ass Coffee Club member, LB asked if the coffee tasted funny to me. I thought it was a rhetorical question, because it always tastes funny to me. We drink crap, hence the name Cheap Ass Coffee Club.
Well, LB did some investigating and found that there was a noticeable aroma of chlorine emanating from the water jugs we fill for the coffee makers. Either someone "cleaned" the jugs or they've added a little too much chlorine to the water supply. Either way, my teeth are whiter for having drank it. Also, I feel like crap.
I told my lead at work that if I'm not in tomorrow it's because I'm dead. He told me that was fine, as long as I made up the time on Sunday.
Well Cooterinos I hope that satisfied your craving for quality bloggetization. I've got to get in a run, have dinner, hang the laundry and get my act in order for work tomorrow. Dang.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Friday, August 31, 2007
The New Look
I was reading a guy's blog today about bike mount kits for the GPS watch I have, when I noticed he has a really cool looking setup. What I liked most was the picture at the top, so I stole his idea and added one to mine.Panoramic Mountain View
The picture at the top of the blog is one that I took my own very own self. It's actually a panoramic shot consisting of about 8 pictures that I took while in Japan. It's the first panoramic picture I've ever taken that came out halfway decent. In fact, at full size there's only one seam that I can see so I'm pretty happy with it.
Other than that this post is primarily to point that out.Bonus Material
Since my parents are coming to visit tomorrow, I'm going to forgo any last minute cleaning and go for a last minute bike ride. I've made a number of assumptions about when they're going to get here, and I think I have time if I leave early enough.
I sent out the invite to my normal biking/running crew, but it's looking like I might be peddling alone. It's a route I've done (alone) before, so I'm not really concerned. In fact, if anyone else is going to show up it might be more of a hassle than just going by myself. Hmm, sounding like a hermit?
Okay, I have other things to write about, but I'll have to get to those another time. Right now I have to get to bed so I can be out on the road by 8:00 tomorrow morning. Later, players.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
