Ravings from my OCD world

Things I've learned today list - The Baking Edition

2007-07-01T20:41:00.000-05:00

Things I've learned today, The Baking Edition:

1. Don't ever buy a baking dish/pan that only serves only one very specific purpose. Even if that purpose is really cool, like... say... a French bread pan. Let's be honest, you probably won't use it.

2. If you must prove to yourself that you will use it, know your limitations. Bakers in France work YEARS to master the perfect baguette. Yours will not measure up. If people tell you it's just like the baguettes they used to buy in France, they are clearly lying to you. Graciously accept the compliment, but know the truth.

3. Don't buy the ten pound bag of flour. How many baguettes are you expecting to make? A ten pound bag of flour is simply a Three Stooges accident waiting to happen.

4. After a ten pound bag of flour explodes upon opening, the kitchen floor will be very slippery. For a very long time.

5. If you happen to find yourself with flour all over the kitchen floor, make every attempt possible to keep your dog out of the kitchen. Trust me, it just complicates matters. Even if you have a white dog.

6. When the recipe states to, "cover the bread with a damp cloth and let rise", what they are really saying is, "don't use your nice kitchen towels that you got for Christmas, because the bread will rise so much that it will completely stick to the towel and ruin it".

7. French bread is stupid.

8. No matter how hungry you are while you're waiting for what supposedly is the French bread to bake (let's just call a spade a spade, here people... by this time, it's a French lumpy mess), just admit your defeat in the kitchen, and get the heck out. If you need hummus that bad, just drive to the local supermarket. They have loads.

9. If you must make hummus and you're out of coriander, don't substitute by putting in twice as much cumin. It smells like a sweaty New York City taxi driver. No one wants their breath to smell like B.O.

10. Trust Kenny Rogers. You gotta' know when to hold 'em and know when to fold 'em. Know when to walk away, and know when to run. To heck with baking. I'm going running.

New Year, New Me

2007-01-22T21:47:00.000-06:00

Ok, you you haven't heard from me in nearly three months. I'm still here, just a little deflated. For those of you who didn't know, my Chicago Marathon run was... well... uhm... it wasn't the best run I've ever had. In fact, it ranks right up there in the top ten worst runs I've ever had, right behind my ten mile training run with the gurgle.

There are a multitude of reasons, and I could make all kinds of excuses, but it is what it is. It basically boils down to the fact that I just had a bad run. Some runs are good, some runs are bad. This one was really bad. Horrible. It's the first time I've ever uttered the words "I want to quit". And I meant it.

Top five reasons I wanted to quit the Chicago Marathon:

1. Weather - it was about a very windy and chilly 35 degrees at the start, and a very windy and chilly 35 degrees at the finish. It was even snowing and sleeting. Because of the weather, I had about 15 layers of clothing on. I was wearing three shirts and running tights over my shorts. I was thinking I would eventually shed the tights, but it was so cold, I never did. So basically, it was like I was running in a diaper - which is good if you have a bladder control issue, but bad if you have to run 26.2 miles. Two words: unbearable chafing.

2. Dehydration - I started cramping at mile 15. Truth be told, I hit the wall at mile 15. More like the wall hit me. And it kept hitting me over and over for the final 11 miles. It was pretty brutal.

3. Race Number - I didn't pin my number firmly on my shirt, so in the wind, my race number kept flipping up and hitting me in the face. At one point I actually yelled "I'd give my left arm for an extra safety pin!"

4. Crowd - or lack thereof. The bad weather meant a much smaller and sparse crowd.

5. Me - I started too fast and lost steam halfway through. It's common mistake for a rookie, but considering it was my fourth marathon, I should know better. Rather than listen to my body, I was trying to keep up with friends, and I just pushed myself too hard.

Top five reasons I finished the Chicago Marathon:

1. Weather - I kept running just to stay warm. Stopping wasn't an option, because your body would cool down too much, so you just had to stay in motion.

2. Dehydration - Sometimes I just kept running, knowing that there would be a waterstop up ahead.

3. Race Number - The blond girl who heard my cry and gave me a safety pin. She said, "keep it, and you can keep your arm, too". Whew. That was a win/win.

4. Crowd - Even though the crowds were smaller, I think they were more enthousiastic. One woman even asked for my phone number. (I'm flattered, but unavailable). Now granted, most of the people were probably cheering for me because I looked so pathethic running with tears in my eyes, but they kept me going.

5. Me - Speaking of keeping up with friends, my wonderful friend Tara kept up with me... and kept me going. She met me at mile 21, when I was at my absolute worst. I was crying, I was in pain, and I had mentally given up. She literally pushed me along for blocks cheering me on and encouraging me. Had it not been for her, I would not have finished. Thanks, Tara.

So the marathon was a bad run. A really bad run. But I finished, which may just be an even greater accomplishment, considering how difficult it was. I've come to terms with it (granted, it took me three months to come to terms with it, but cut me some slack. I've always been a little slower than most). I've turned over a new leaf. I'm back on track. My outlook has brightened - and even my look has lightened. To remind me of my new mental change, I made a physical change - I shaved off my beard. So far, it's working. Here you have it.

"2007 NEW YEAR, NEW ME" Top five reasons I keep running:

1. I just love to run. Running is so much fun. For example, I had a fantastic hilly four miler on a snow covered trail today. It was only 20 degrees and all I was wearing were my shorts, a long sleeved shirt, and my sneakers. Don't ask. I didn't plan well. I don't even have my beard anymore to keep my face warm. Regardless, it was one of my best runs ever. I was smiling the whole time. It was a great day to be outdoors, it was a great day to be running, and it was a great day to be alive.

2. I love running with other people. It connects you in a way that few other activities can. Last week, while trail running with my three favorite running partners (Rob, Cat, and Loki), we were discussing the fact that some people think if you can talk while you're running, then you're not pushing yourself enough. I completely disagree. Some of the very best conversations I've had in my life have been during a long run. (By the way, both Rob and Cat were marathon newbies at Chicago 2006, and they both had a GREAT run. I couldn't be happier for them. Rob beat Oprah (yeah!) and Cat was right behind him with a stellar finish. All three of us have already signed up to run Chicago 2007).

3. Running keeps me healthy. I don't care if I put on a few pounds or my 5k speed slows by ten seconds. I'm active, I'm fit, and I'm healthy. I'm still in such a better place than I was even five years ago.

4. Running gives me goals. Even if I gave up marathoning, I'd still training for 5ks, 10ks, half marathons, and triathlons. Running and training for races forces you out of your comfort zone. It pushes you to run faster and farther. It challenges you to realize your potential.

5. Running inspires me. Just recently, a complete stranger came up to me at a local wine tasting and told me, "You probably don't remember me, but I was having a really hard time at the triathlon last year, and you inspired me to finish". After chatting with her a bit, it turns out it was "Blue Shirt Lady" from the Pigman IV. So, sometimes you inspire others, sometimes they inspire you.

Whatever your reason, just keep running.

So I'm kinda' freaking out

2006-10-17T18:46:00.000-05:00

For those of you who still faithfully check to see if I've updated my blog... well, I owe you a huge apology. Thank you for stopping by, time and time again, only to see that nothing has changed for months here in Mateo-land. But I'm alive, and I'm back. I can't promise that I'll make a weekly cameo here on blogger.com, but I'll do my best. Stay tuned.

So here I sit with less than a week until I run my third Chicago marathon, and my stomach is completely tied up in knots. Well, granted, most of my stomach issues have to do with the bowl of wasabi peanuts that I'm eating like candy. Regardless, I'm still a little nervous. Ok, a lot nervous. We're talking "George W. Bush at a spelling bee" kind of nervous.

Sure, every time I run a marathon, I get the jitters. That's to be expected. I've run three of them already - and I've had a fantastic time completing each one - but realistically, running a marathon is a big deal. There. I said it. Running 26.2 miles on bloody stumps and subsequently vomiting up your appendix happens to be a big deal. On a positive note, it's a lot less expensive than having to schedule an appendectomy, and you get a really cool long-sleeved t-shirt at the end.

But I still get nervous before every one. Very nervous. Usually, it doesn't set in until a day before the event; however, this year I was diagnosed with a severe case of early-onset nervioso. What was the catalyst? Well, I talked to my mother last night and told her that I was running a marathon this weekend. Big mistake.

- Normally, I like to wait until AFTER I do really crazy things to tell my mother I did them so she doesn't lie awake at night worrying about me.
- Normally, she sighs heavily and says things like "I just don't understand why you do these things to your body".

- Normally, I like to call her right after an event to share in the thrill of victory.
- Normally, she asks if I'm drunk because my runner's high makes me slur my speech.

- Normally, I tell her not to worry, because this is the last crazy event that I'll ever do.
- Normally, she knows I'm lying through my slurring teeth, and waits patiently for the next phone call.

Well, this must be the week for family phone calls, because my brother phoned Saturday night to wish me luck for this weekend. He and I were reminiscing about our first marathon, the one that we ran together a few years ago in Dallas. We were talking about how great it was and how terrible it was, how fun it was and how hard it was. Then my brother said something incredibly insightful that I've been mulling over a lot the last few days. He said, "It's crazy when you're out there all by yourself hitting the wall at mile 20 with noone around. There are a million reasons to quit, and only one reason to keep going. You just have to focus on that one reason."

He's dead on. Now keep in mind, I'm fully aware that marathoning isn't for everyone, but the analogy transcends to everything in our lives. We all have our challenges. We all have our demons. We all have our own race to run. What's your reason to keep going?

Back to marathoning. It's true what they say - the first 20 miles are physical, and the last 6.2 are mental. Anyone can physically train to run 20 miles. My mother, although she chooses not to, could physically run 20 miles. The true test comes after mile 20. That's when the pain sets in and your mind starts playing tricks on you. That's when you start hallucinating that rabid French poodles are chasing you. That's when you think that you can't take one more step. That's when fear grips you at the core and you start to doubt yourself and doubt your ability to finish. That's when you start to doubt your ability to do anything in your life.

That's why the finish line is so amazing. Not only do you conquer your own fears and self-doubts, you crush them. You beat them down, and make them cry uncle. The finish line is the culmination of all your hard work, training, and mental stamina. The tables turn, and you suddenly realize that you can accomplish anything. You're completely exhausted, but your battered body is so overwhelmed with a sense of pride that makes you feel like a comicbook superhero. (Not to mention the fact that they give you a silver mylar cape with which to warm yourself, visually completing your transformation into said comicbook superhero).

You've done it. You've won. You've conquered the marathon.

You've also conquered those damn French poodles. Trust me, after your runner's high wears off in a few hours, they will stop chasing you.

OK, Seriously...

2006-05-11T20:30:00.000-05:00

So I realize that I'm the most unreliable blogger on the face of the planet, but seriously. I've had a lot going on lately. Rather than sit here and tell stories all night, you're getting a list. Not super short bullet points, but not my normal verbose disco mix, either.

Sorry the OCD is kicking in overtime tonight. Quite frankly, the only reason I'm sitting down at the computer is because I've been cleaning for an hour fifteen and I (seriously) just ran out of Windex. I'm always looking for signs from God, so I figure my blazing through a bottle of window cleaner was his way of telling me to quit cleaning for the night. Maybe it was his way of telling me to go buy ice cream. Either way, here's your list.

What has been keeping me busy, Spring 2006.

1. I had another birthday. To celebrate, I blew out my knee, and wasn't able to run for three weeks. Argh. To all of you "running-is-going-to-kill-your-knees" naysayers... no, I wasn't running when my knee acted up. I was at work, simply sitting down in my chair. So rather than give up marathon running, I've decided to give up Corporate America. Not really, but it's fun to entertain the thought. I've since returned to light running, and my knee seems to be fine. I keep meaning to return to Corporate America, but can't seem to find the motivation.

2. I spent a four day bachelor party weekend in Vegas. No story. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. I'll just put it this way, Vegas is a bit overwhelming for this small-town Iowa boy. And in case you were wondering, no, I didn't even spend one penny gambling. I'm FAR too Dutch to blindly hand over my money to a bunch of people who built a replica of the Eiffel Tower in the middle of the desert. If I'm going to spend my money in Paris, I want it to be in the REAL Paris, where the residents are condescending, and the public transport smells like body odor and urine, thank you very much.

3. I've gone crazy remodeling the kitchen. I put in a new ceiling, drywalled, painted, wallpapered... the only big thing left is new tile on the countertops. I even busted out the powertools and built myself a spankin' new stemware holder for the dead space above the fridge. I just finished installing it last night. It's HUGE. It's got more than enough space to hold a partyful of white wine, red wine, champagne, martini, and margarita glasses. It's quite classy, although very... uh... sturdy. Judging by my installation job, you'd think we were drinking wine in a bomb shelter. You'd have to burn the house down to remove it from the ceiling.

Sidebar, if you're dating a person with OCD, it's best that you - AT ALL COSTS - avoid trying to assist with any kind of remodeling jobs. Just pretend you have errands to run or someplace to be. Example: If you happen enter my house and I'm standing in the kitchen holding a bolt of wallpaper:

Incorrect statement: "Hi honey! Oh, that wallpaper looks... 'interesting'. Well, maybe it will grow on me. Let me help".

Correct statement: "Oh shucks, I just realized that I forgot my checkbook in the Republic of Congo," backing slowly towards the door, "It looks like you've got a handle on this project. I'll be back in a few days when you've finished".

4. I've signed up for the Chicago marathon again. This will make for year three at Chicago. Maybe I'll beat Oprah this year. Actually, I'd settle for beating Fat Elvis. We're even organizing a "Chicago marathon training and support" group for folks in the area. Word on the street is that a local news station caught wind of our little group and wants to do a segment on us for the evening news. That's another perk of living in Iowa. There isn't enough crime and tragedy to fill a newsanchor's thirty minutes, so you always have time for a handful of feel good stories.

5. I'm rapidly ramping up my training for the summer races and triathlons. I have a sprint triathlon in less than a month. In fact, it's the day after the aforementioned Vegas bachelor's wedding, so I'm using it as experiment to see how well I can swim, bike, and run after a day of wedding, reception, and party.

6. I'm thoroughly obsessed with the yard. For my birthday, I received a wonderful gift of 5 flowerpots, 2 shepherd's hooks, and all the subsequent flora. I love it. Keep in mind that I have a small problem doing anything in moderation. Translation: ever since my birthday three weeks ago, I've been buying plants and flowers like they are made of precious metals. If I run to the hardware store for pliers, I come home with peonies. It looks like I'm starting my own greenhouse. And it doesn't even matter how much sun it needs or the amount of care required. If it's pretty, I naïvely buy it. Which would normally be fine, but... one minor caveat being that I have a black thumb, so I've already managed to kill the heartiest of them. Oh well, I guess I used to waste my money on much more stupid things - like cigarettes - at least now I'm only killing plants... not my lungs.

7. Enough of this list. I've got to get some ice cream. Seriously.

Check Out My Tight Whip, Yo!

2006-03-24T19:00:00.000-06:00

Yes, I'm sure you're reading this thinking, "Now, what exactly is a whip, and how exactly do I get a tight one like Mateo?"

Well, dear reader... let me offer you today's lesson in American slang. Apparently, a "whip" is an automobile, and a "tight whip" is merely a really nice one. Don't feel bad, before I bought my new car, I didn't know what a whip was either. But then again, I'm painfully uncool. I should never be used as a benchmark for cool.

Enough with the vocabulary lesson. I'm sure you're dying to know about my whip, right? It's a Titanium Green 2006 Ford Escape. I originally wanted a hybrid, but since the technology isn't completely there yet, (in other words, I still have a twinge of the OCD fear that my car is going to start on fire), I thought it best to stick with a classic. So my Escape isn't brand new, but it is this year's model, which is by FAR the newest car I've ever owned. Until now, the newest car I've ever purchased was four years old. I decided to see how the other half lives, so bit the proverbial bullet and traded in both my 11 year old truck and 13 year old car and bought a new Escape.
My favorite parts of the Escape? 1.) It has a hitch for my bike rack, 2.) it has plenty of room in back for Loki, and 3.) it has a six CD changer.

I have a confession to make. I'm a 33 year old American male, and I've never had a car with a CD player. (This is your gentle reminder that I'm terribly Dutch and again... painfully uncool.) The very first thing I did when I got home after buying it - honestly - was make a mix CD of all of my favorite driving songs. Sure... laugh all you like, but it's the little things in life that make me happy.

Enough about the new ride and what a horrible geek I am. I was more interested to find that even though I am very OCD about most things, other things in my life slip by me, completely unnoticed. For example, when I was cleaning out my former vehicles for trading in, even I was appalled at what I found. So here you have it. Mateo's "I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT WAS IN MY TRUNK" List 2006.

CLOTHING
4 - spring jackets
1 - winter coat
1 - sock (white ankle length)
1 - leather glove
1 - clothes hanger (plastic)
1 - pair tan polyester stretch pants that my friend Angie bought for ten dollars FROM A COMPLETE STRANGER IN A MACDONALD'S BATHROOM IN PARIS, FRANCE. It's a really long story, but a VERY funny one. Perhaps if you're good, I'll tell you sometime.

PERSONAL HYGIENE:
3 - toothbrushes
4 - containers dental floss (2 mint, 2 regular)
1 - pair fingernail clippers
2 - tubes ECOLIPS organic lip balm (mint flavored)

PAPER PRODUCTS:
1 - post it note from my nephew with the word "Gunk" written on it
1 - bible (1985 NIV Study Edition)
2 - wedding invitations
3 - sets of printed Mapquest directions
5 - various purchased maps
1 - notepad containing various designs for my bedroom

RANDOM:
1 - sombrero (don't ask)
2 - gold cufflinks
7 - pens
2 - unused air freshners (Obsession scented)
1 - purple velvet steering wheel cover with the word "ROCKSTAR" embroidered on it (a gift from my friend Tara)
1 - cigarette lighter
And $5.02 in change

There you have it. The exhaustive list of what I found while cleaning out my two old vehicles. I couldn't believe it myself. Man, for someone with so much OCD, I'm a complete packrat. Hopefully I'll do a better job of keeping my new whip clean.

Oh and by the way, next week's lesson in American Slang will be brought to you by my 68 year old Dutch mother. Her latest expression is "bling bling". Seriously. She said it last Thanksgiving when one of my siblings complimented her on her earrings. "Oh, these?" she humbly said... "They're just my bling bling". I was in such shock that you could have literally knocked me over with a feather. I blame cable television...

Oh boy

2006-02-28T21:36:00.000-06:00

Uh... hi there. How are you? I know, it's been forever. You look fantastic. I love what you did to your hair. Are those highlights? Wow, they look great.

Ok, enough distraction. I apologize. I haven't blogged in nearly two months. Well, this little thing called life kept getting in the way. Well, I'm back, and I hope to return to blogging on a more regular basis. Let's face it, I never really blogged on what one would call a "timely" basis to begin with. But I promise to do better for the remainder of 2006. That's my money back guarantee to you. (By the way, if any of you are paying more than thirty seven cents to read this, then I'm sad to report you're getting blindly robbed). Anyhew, in hopes to reduce all the "why haven't you been blogging lately" hatemail to a few disgruntled postcards, here goes.

More Mateo lists. Oh man, do you have any IDEA of how many lists an OCD man can compile in the matter of two months? Well, let's just say that it's much more than you can jot down on an entire pad of post-it notes. Trust me, I tried.

For starters, some of you probably didn't even know that I took a little trip to Mexico in January. It was awesome. Trust me, when you live in Iowa, a mid-winter trip to a sunny location isn't a luxury, it's a birthright. So here you have it:

El viaje de Mateo a México 2006:

General:
10 - days in Cabo San Lucas
10 - number of days we were supposed to go running
1 - number of days we ACTUALLY went running
1200 - number of calories in the average meal while on vacation
12 - number of meals where I insisted on us having guacamole
1 - number of meals that literally consisted of a bowl of baked Chihuahua cheese
7 - number of minutes spent trying to figure out how you milk a Chihuahua
47 - number of alcoholic beverages consumed at the swim-up bar
14 - number of pounds Mateo gained while in Mexico
13 - number of times we heard the song "I will Survive" while in Mexico
88 - times we were approached by local vendors to buy any number of goods sold on the beach
4 - pairs of sunglasses purchased
3 - bottles of pure Mexican vanilla purchased
1 - number of shirts lost as a result of midnight skinny dipping in the ocean. Don't ask.

Excursions:
1 - number of days spent sea kayaking across the Cabo San Lucas Bay (AWESOME)
1 - number of times our friends capsized their kayak and promptly returned to shore
72 - number of minutes to kayak one-way across the CSL Bay
2 - number of timeshares we visited
1 - number of times we had to put on our ugly faces and tell the timeshare people "Look, we're not interested. Just let us leave".
450 - US dollars worth of free goods and services we got from both timeshares
1 - number of days snorkeling on a pirate ship named the "Buccaneer Queen"
1 - number of "Buccaneer Queen" pirate bandanas purchased on the ship. Don't ask.

Whale Watching:
2 - number of whales seen on "exclusive" whale watching boat trip which was supposedly in the prime of whale watching season
2 - number of lifejackets seen on "exclusive" whale watching boat trip
45 - times per MINUTE (on average) the small fishing boat smacked the water during the whale watching trip
180 - minutes on boat
8100 - yes... total number of times the boat smacked the water
45 - number of minutes I spent visualizing running the Chicago Marathon so I wouldn't throw up on the boat. Sidebar: it seems a bit ironic now that I was visualizing the Chicago Marathon (another time in my life when I was trying to keep from throwing up) to keep from throwing up on the boat. Hmmm. I wonder what that says about me?
4 - number of times I begged, "Can we just please go back to shore?"
12 - number of times I have referred to the whale watching event as "The ultimate test of a relationship, number 647". Don't ask.

Return from Mexico:
1 - number of times the customs agent said, "You were only there ten days? Jeez, your tan looks like you were there a MONTH!"
7 - number of times my friends called me "tan-orexic"
3 - number of times Anne told me that Loki has the exact same OCD neuroses that I do
1 - number of poems that Anne wrote about Loki while dog-sitting
1 - number of batches of guacamole we've made since being back
1 - number of batches of guacamole thrown away since it tasted more like bananas than avacados. Ugh, don't ask.

Road to Relaxation

2006-01-07T21:22:00.000-06:00

OK, I admit, I don't know how to relax. I have two speeds, on and off. And "On" just happens to be always cranking at 4500 RPM. Well, it's been brought to my attention NUMEROUS TIMES that I really need to learn to relax. Let me tell you that I've tried in the past, and relaxing usually only leads to sleeping. Just ask everyone in my yoga class. Yup, I'm the guy in the back of class who always finds so much zen that I build a zen log and start sawing it.

Regardless, I will try to attempt this "relaxation" I keep hearing so much about. Here's the backstory. Today just happened to be a balmy 45 degrees Fahrenheit, so I decided to fit in a nice little 30 mile bike ride. (Two things to clarify for those of you who don't know me that well. Yes, 45 degrees is indeed balmy in January when you live in Iowa, and yes, 30 miles on a bike is considered a "little" ride. 100 miles in 100 degree weather is when it becomes grueling). I returned home to a relatively empty and quiet home.

I just happened to find a fancy little bag of relaxing bath salts in the linen closet, so I decided it was time to bite the bullet and draw myself a bath. Truth be told, I think the bath salts were specifically left there to encourage me to relax. Fine, I start the bath. Next, I needed music. I chose The Postal Service "Give Up" CD for three reasons: 1. ) it's a brilliant album, which I can't get enough of right now, 2.) it's about as "relaxing" as I know how to be, and 3.) it's exactly 45 minutes long, which is about as long as I figured I could endure soaking in a bath while not doing anything.

For those of you who really know me well, you know that it wasn't long before my inner OCD came out and took control of the situation. Normally being a shower kind of guy, I don't usually get a "lower level view" of the bath. Translation, I saw a small patch of mildew and the OCD went crazy. I started cleaning the entire bathroom from top to bottom. In the 45 minutes I was supposed to be relaxing, I spent more time cleaning the bathroom than I spent cleaning myself.

So here's "Mateo's attempt at a relaxing bath" list 2006.

45 - number of minutes spent in the bathroom
40 - number of minutes cleaning the bathroom
50 - square feet of bathtub/shower scrubbed
3 - number of times the 50 square feet were scrubbed
1 - number of bottles of cleaning supplies used
6 - number of used "running" bandaids found in the bathroom and subsequently thrown away
2 - number of bottles of bubblebath that haven't been opened in over two years and really need to be thrown away
57 - number of MP3's that were loaded onto my MP3 player while I was in the bathroom
2 - number of loads of laundry completed while I was in the bathroom
4 - number of pots and pans soaking while I was in the bathroom
2 - number of times I weighed myself while in the bathroom

OK, fine. I don't know how to relax. I probably never will. Here's my white flag. I run to relax. You can keep your arsenal of aromatherapy "day" candles, soothing bath salts, feng shui stones, and meditation music. Just give me my Sauconys, and I'm a happy boy.

Mateo

ORN - a post note for those running bloggers who are keeping up on my site. I was tagged by Dawn about the word that I choose to focus on for 2006. Well, seeing that "relaxation" was clearly a bust, I'm going to focus on HEALTH. Sure, I want to lose weight, run faster, eat better, etc, all of which encompass a healthy life. So my chosen word is "Health". Happy (and healthy) 2006!

I've been infected!

2005-12-21T18:48:00.000-06:00

Eeek! I've officially been infected. Getting infected is apparently a relatively common thing here in Blogland. So here's how it works. You get "infected" with a handful of questions which you must answer. (I know it sounds like a rather rigid code, but the laws of Blogland are fierce. Don't ask questions. Just do as you're told, human). In turn, you infect other bloggers and they have to answer the same set of questions. So I guess it's like when you played "Kiss Tag" in the sixth grade, but without all of the kissing (and - thank goodness - without all of the subsequent fear of catching herpes simplex 1).

I was infected by another marathon running and blogging friend Susan. If you have minute, check her out.

So here are the rules. "Write 5 random facts about yourself, and then list the names of 5 people whom you in turn infect. Also, leave a post to these people letting them know they have been infected." Here are the people I choose: Anne, Dawn, Alicia, Jen, and Jon.

Now on with the challenge. You know how much I love my OCD lists, so I was all over this. Rather than list random facts (since my blogging is completely random already) I thought I might make this more of a confessional. I just can't decide how much to actually share on my blog. Oh well, here goes. Keep in mind that all of these things are HUGE secrets that I've kept. Also keep in mind that I was raised incredibly religiously and sheltered, so in the grand scheme of things, most people do worse things on a Friday night.

1. I still own the first (and only) thing I ever stole from a store. Of all completely lame things, it was a bottle of Nutrogena foot lotion. I was fourteen years old, and I didn't have particularly dry feet, but I stole it to see what it felt like to steal. All my friends had stolen things, and they made it sound so cool. I must admit, stealing foot lotion is pretty darn uneventful. I still have the bottle (and the corresponding guilt), nearly two decades later. My intention has always been to return it to the drugstore where I stole it... but much to my disappointment, Pardekooper's Drugstore has been transformed into a hip and happening coffee house. So now I don't know what to do with the stinking lotion. Karma tells me to go to the coffee shop and just leave it at the scene of the crime. Perhaps...

2. When I was 13, I once pretended I was sick when staying at a friend's house so that I wouldn't have to go to church and I could stay at their house and watch MTV while everyone was gone. We didn't really watch much TV growing up, and since we lived on a farm in the middle of nowhere, we CERTAINLY didn't have cable or MTV. I had heard all about MTV fromsome of my less religious friends, and I desperately wanted to experience it for myself. Well, in a nutshell, it was like this. The day I was introduced to MTV, there just happened to be a "Julie Brown Marathon" playing all day, which is complete crap. The only thing I can imagine which could possibly be more annoying is the MTV "Pauley Shore Marathon". Once again, my rebellion only brought disappointment.

3. When I was 12, my neighbor Connie was supposed to be watching me and... she snuck me into see "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom". Keep in mind, my religion was pretty much against all movies. Apparently, dark movie theaters lead to heavy petting. I don't know. Anyway, the only other movies I had seen up to this point in my life were "Bambi" and "Joni". In case you weren't one of the other 27 people who saw the movie "Joni", it's the story of a young girl who was paralyzed in a swimming accident. Her accident led to much spiritual struggle and questioning of her faith. Eventually, she and God eventually found middle ground when God told her to paint with her teeth, which made her famous. Well, as famous as a mouth-painting, wheelchair-bound girl can be. Anyway, keeping all of this in mind, imagine my complete HORROR in watching Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, when the high priest literally rips a man's beating heart out of his chest with his bare hands. Uhm... I don't think that's a Hallmark scene that Joni will be painting with her teeth anytime soon. Again, my lesson learned was that rebellion only leads to disappointment... and a queasy stomach.

4. I drank before I was 21. I was a freshman in college, and finally on my own. The only problem was since I didn't drink in high school like all of the cool kids, no one ever taught me how to drink or more specifically, how to pace myself drinking. Also, no one ever taught me that Lime Vodka is never - under any cirmcumstances - a good idea. Long story short (and mostly to protect any innocent people involved) I ended up literally crawling across campus on my hands and knees, luckily finding my friends in time for them to keep me under careful adult supervision as I passed out. Yup. Rebellion = disappointment + queasy stomach.

5. And my final confession is that I was supposed to have been making dinner while I've been blogging all night. Granted, for once my rebellion didn't really lead to disappointment, just hunger. Much hunger. On that note, I really have to go fix something for dinner before I gnaw off my own arms. Who knows? Perhaps I could become famous by typing with my teeth...

Happy Sinterklaas Day!

2005-12-09T21:37:00.000-06:00

Ok, here's the thing. I haven't been blogging lately. I know this, and you know this. Well, since I'm American, I can't very well take responsibility for my own actions. I need a scapegoat. Also, considering that I'm American, I really should look for someone to sue for my lack of bloggingness. What can I say? It is the American way, baby.

Well, since I'm not a litigious person, I'll have to find someone who I realistically can't sue. I could blame McDonald's like everyone else, but I haven't eaten that junk in over a decade, so that's clearly out. I could blame "Corporate America", but that's a bit too generic, and quite frankly, Corporate America keeps food on my table. I could blame my parents, but that just always sounds too Oprah-esque.

I've got it! *Light bulb subsequently appears above Mateo's headscratching*. I'll blame Sinterklaas! That's PERFECT! I can sue Sinterklaas, because he's got unlimited resources!

Now I know most of you are thinking to yourselves, "Sinter-WHO? Sinter-WHAT? Sinter-WHERE-IN-THE-HECK-DOES-HE-COME-UP-WITH-THIS-STUFF?"

Well, for starters, you should broaden your horizons. In a nutshell, Sinterklaas is the Dutch Santa Claus. He lives in Spain, and arrives in the Netherlands the evening of December 5. Children leave their wooden shoes out filled with hay and carrots for his white horses in hopes that Sinterklaas will reward their year of good behavior with loads of presents. For those kids who aren't so good (and you know who you are) he leaves coal and switches to reprimand you. If you're really bad, Sinterklaas' helpers throw you in a gunneysack and take you back to Spain.

I know, I know, it all sounds pretty horrible. You're probably thinking that we shouldn't base an entire year's worth of do-goodings completely based on fear, but if you really think about it, that's pretty much how most religions are structured. Do good, get rewarded. Do bad, get punished. It's been proven for centuries that it works. And word on the street is that it's even the basis behind training Sigfried and Roy's white tigers, but that really isn't important right now. You need to stay focused on the issue at hand.

Well, seeing that I was a VERY good boy this year, Sinterklaas stopped by my house and left me the perfect gift. Perfect. A puzzle.

Now keep in mind that for a person with OCD, a puzzle isn't merely a pastime or a hobby. It isn't even a challenge. It's your destiny.

I literally had to be pulled away from the puzzle the other night to go to bed. After all, it was well past midnight, and I needed to wake up early the next morning to shovel four inches of show off my driveway. (OCD quirk number 742 - I can't stand to have ANY snow on my driveway. Keep in mind that I don't own a snowblower and my driveway is nearly 1,000 square feet, so it typically takes me two hours to complete. Yes, I've been known to shovel up to three times a day to keep the driveway spotless. Don't ask. The neighbors have stopped asking.)

Back to the puzzle... which remains uncompleted even as I type. It's driving me crazy. I love it. I love everything about it. I love making fitting small pieces together to form a greater whole. I love the detail, I love watching it progress.

What I don't love is sitting for hours at a time while I complete it. I'm getting fat, which is why I ran a sprint triathlon tonight at the gym. All the Sinterklaas cookies and Dutch pastries are making me a bit sluggish. I can't help it, I'm made of sugar.

Happy Sinterklaas Day!

[Insert Witty Title Here]

2005-11-05T20:03:00.000-06:00

Sorry I've been away for a while. I've been super busy (still) trying to get everything in my life caught up since the marathon. It's crazy how many things a person can put aside while running 40 miles a week. For instance, my bills. I have the money, I just forgot to pay them. I can't tell you how many times in the last week that I've had the following conversation.

Me: "Uh, yeah, I have to apologize for my late payment for (insert type of bill here - Visa, Mastercard, Discover, electricity, phone, International tourism company of Burkina Faso). I promise that I'm sending it off today."

Phone representative: "Are you experiencing any financial problems, sir? We have plans that can help you or perhaps we can even waive your late fees."

Me: "Oh, I totally have the money... it's just that I... uh... Well, I ran the Chicago marathon, and sometimes I just space off my bills. But the marathon was awesome! I didn't beat Oprah, but I did beat an Elvis. Running a marathon is so cool. You should try it sometime. You feel like a total rockstar! It will change your life..."

Phone representative: "That's nice, sir. We don't exactly have a 'marathon running' rebate, so your bill is due in full, complete with late fees."

Me: "But I ran a MARATHON! That's 26.2 miles! That's got to be worth something! Clearly, I was a little busy training."

Phone representative: "I'm sorry, sir. There's nothing I can do. But congratulations on your marathon. That really is quite an accomplishment."

Me: "Would it help to know that I used to be a fat man, and I lost 110lbs?"

Phone representative: "Again... that's very impressive, but we don't have a weight loss discount either. Your bill is still due in full."

Me: "Oh fine - (insert exasperated sigh) - Thanks for your help."

So that's basically how I've spent the last two weeks of my life. Well, that... and putting up a new kitchen ceiling. Don't ask. My friends decided to yet again remodel a room in my house while I was at work one day. Well, this time they chose the kitchen, and (ahem!) accidentally put a few tiny holes in the ceiling. And when I say "tiny holes", I actually mean huge, fist-size holes. Don't worry, they weren't taking out their aggression on my ceiling by punching through it with their fists. They were actually trying to track the three live wires which were formerly just hanging loose out of my ceiling. See? I told you not to ask. Well, throw in an electrician, some drywall, texturing, priming, and painting... and I once again have a kitchen ceiling. I do miss the downhome country charm of having huge holes in my ceiling, but trust me, I don't miss having chunks of insulation fall into my bowl of Lucky Charms.

ORN (Obligatory Running Note, for all of you diehard runners out there who need a dose of Fat Man Running): I went to a running seminar today on proper running technique and common running problems. It was fantastic. Plus it was free, so my frugal side could justify the price of admittance.

I recommend attending these seminars to anyone who is a runner or interested in becoming a runner. I believe it's vital to learn as much as you can about anything which you hold important in your life. Especially if you're like me, and you log upwards of 1,000 miles a year, it's a good idea to take your body in for a tuneup to make sure everything is running like it should.

Well, they videotaped us running, and I was happy to see that I actually have quite a good running stride, even if it isn't a fast one. I must admit though, I was even happier to see all of the other runners there. I draw so much strength from other people, whether they be runners or not. (Believe it or not, I actually have friends who don't run. Don't worry, it's only a matter of time before my hypnosis will kick in and they'll start.)

Man, I'll tell you I heard so many wonderful compliments today. I had some good friends there who always boost my spirit when I'm around them. I even met some new friends who gave me a boost too. The whole seminar just made me really feel like a runner. More importantly, it made me feel like a part of something bigger. Like I was part of this big family. Not necessarily a running family, just a human family. I felt included, I felt healthy... and I felt darn good.

So here's to all of you, my friends. Those I've met and those I haven't met yet, thank you for keeping me going. Run on.

What Do You Know About Running?

2005-10-19T19:49:00.000-05:00

What do you know about running?

This was a question that was recently posed to a runner/blogger friend of mine. Her name is Dawn, but her nickname is "The Unstoppable, Amazing, and Delightful Pink Lady". Ok, I added the "unstoppable, amazing, and delightful" part, but trust me, she's all of these things and more. Plus, she's much like me. We may not be the fastest husky in the pack, but we run because we have a passion for running, and we blog because we enjoy sharing our passion with others.

Well, it turns out that one day while I was busy training for the Chicago Marathon someone anonymously stopped by Dawn's blogsite and left the message "What do you know about running?" I'm sure this comment was intended to be an insult, but as always, Dawn addressed it with the grace of true royalty. Regardless, this question has been weighing heavily on my mind lately.

What do I know about running? Well, I know I often hear the comment, "Uh... That's funny, you don't *look* like a runner". And I also know I probably never will. Heck, I've never gone to running school, I've never won an event, and I've never even set foot in Kenya. I'm pretty sure that the CEOs of Nike, Adidas, or Saucony won't be knocking on my door anytime soon asking me to endorse their next Spring line of running shoes. Amazingly enough, in spite of all this, I've managed to complete three marathons, five triathlons, and countless road races during my newly healthy life. I'm proud to report that I've accomplished all of this merely for the love of running. During the twelve bajillion miles that I've logged, I've learned a lot about running and I've learned a lot about myself. So here's to you, mystery person.

"What I Know About Running, 2005 Edition".

1. Running makes me more sane. Some of you reading this are probably on the floor laughing, but I'd like to clarify that I never said I WAS sane. I said that running makes me MORE sane. Sure, I'm still on the edge, but running keeps me from jumping. If I'm having a bad day, the best remedy is a nice refreshing run. After a good run, everything seems a bit more tolerable.

2. Running makes me smarter. For starters, the more time I'm out running, the less time I'm spending filling my head with senseless garbage on television or in the media. Plus (trust me on this one) three hour Sunday morning training runs give a person A LOT of time to think.

3. Running makes me physically healthier. Self-explanatory. I lost 110lbs, my blood pressure is in check, and even my allergies are under control. So I'll live longer and have a better quality of life. Cheating death is cool.

4. Running makes me feel like a total rockstar. Running a marathon for five hours while a crowd of 1.5 MILLION people cheer you on? That's an audience even Madonna would be happy to pull in.

5. Running increases my sense of community. There's an unspoken camraderie amongst runners/cyclists/outdoorsy people. Especially those of us typically in the "back of the pack" who run simply for the love of running. We may not be fast, but we're out there covering the same mileage as everyone else who crosses that finish line.

6. Running helps me see things I thought I'd never see. It's taken me to new places for events, and even in my own city, I'm often out and about to see things that most people miss. Plus it gives me time to notice things that people hustling and bustling around are missing. As a result...

7. Running helps me appreciate the little things. There's nothing better than being the first person to run on freshly fallen snow or smell Spring flowers. OK fine... I don't actually smell Spring flowers, but it sounded better than admitting that my favorite day to run is actually "Crunchberry Day" at the local cereal factory. Seriously though, it's the absolute best. The whole town smells like one big crunchberry. If it's humid enough, you can even taste it. I could run forever on Crunchberry Day.

8. Running helps me bond with my friends and my dog. Although I often like to run alone, there's something remarkably therapudic about running with a partner. Man, I totally light up like a Christmas tree when I get another friend hooked on running. Let me know if you're interested in starting a running program, and I'll show you the secret handshake.

9. Running has helped me to meet hundreds (perhaps thousands) of fantastic new people. Too many to name.

10. Did I mention Crunchberry Day?

So there you have it. My abbreviated list of what I know about running. Now I'm not saying that running is going to save the world, but there's a good chance it saved my life. Come to think of it, I guess I do know a lot about running.

Chicago 2005

2005-10-13T19:45:00.000-05:00

The Chicago Marathon was awesome. As you can see from this photo, I brought my camera phone along again this year to take photos as I was running. This is my favorite one. If you behave, perhaps I'll show you some more. So here's my OCD list of the Chicago Marathon 2005, as presented by Fat Man Running. Keep in mind that some of these numbers are approximated, as running 26.2 miles starts to mess with your head.

PREMARATHON:
100 - Percent of the 4 hour trip to Chicago that I was freaking out.
4 - Number of times I asked if we could "turn around and go home".
2 - Number of times we had to stop our way to Chicago so I could pee.
2 - Number of times my friend's dog peed on my shoes. (It's tradition. He gets really excited to see me).
2 - Hours that we were late to meet our friend for dinner, thanks to insane marathon traffic.
138 - Number of minutes spent at the marathon expo.
9 - Number of times during and after the expo that I said, "Holy cats! I can't believe I just met John Bingham!" (He's one of my heros).
6 - Number of times I shook John Bingham's hand while exchanging stories.

MARATHON:
18,840 - Seconds it took me to run the marathon.
1 - Number of friends with whom I ran every second of the marathon.
1 - Running Elvis's we passed.
1 - Running Elvis's that passed us.
2 - Number of beads I collected during the marathon. (No, I didn't flash anything. I'm a good boy).
3 - Number of runners who offered to flash me for my beads.
1 - Number of complete strangers that told me I had "an amazing spirit that she could see from miles". (Julie, if you're reading this, thank you for getting me through mile 24. You're awesome.)
14 - Number of phone calls I got cheering me on.
2 - Number of text messages I got on my phone cheering me on. (Thanks, Anne!)
4 - Number of times I cried because running a marathon is an overwhelming experience.
0 - Number of times I cried because of the pain.

5 - Mini Snickers bars eaten while running.
1 - Bagels consumed while running. (I hate power gels).
1 - Bagels still left attached to my belt when crossing the finish line.
350 - Ounces of water and Gatorade consumed during the run. (Big cheers to all of the amazing volunteers who help at the water stations and elsewhere!)

1,500,000 - Approximate number of spectators.
5 - Times I yelled to those spectators, "Come on people! Cheer us on! We didn't wake up at five o'clock in the morning to run a marathon for nothing!"
25 - Times I told a spectator, "You're my favorite fan!" (Shhhh, don't tell the others).
10 - Times I saw my awesome friends who came to support me. (Monkey Boy, Tara, Smack, Amy, Sarah, Keegan... You all rock!)
1 - Times I randomly saw a person from my highschool class.
5 - Cute old ladies banging on pots and pans with wooden spoons cheering us on.
37 - Spectators that couldn't figure out my name and cheered, "Go MATE!"
12 - Number of those spectators that figured out my shirt said "Mateo" after I had passed them, and then cheered "Oh, I mean, GO MATEO!"
1 - Spectators that said, "Hey Mateo, this dance is just for you!"

POST-MARATHON:
20 - Ounces of Sangria consumed in celebration.
150 - Ounces of water consumed since the marathon.
0 - Ounces of Gatorade consumed since the marathon.
1 - Lou Malnatti's small specialty pizzas consumed.
1 - Number of times I called my mother right after finishing.
2 - Number of times my mother told me how I sound "drunk" when my runner's high kicks in.
3 - Days of vacation to recover.
10 - Number of times I've already told people I'm running the Chicago Marathon next year, even though I swore I was taking a year off in 2006.
1 - Number of lives changed forever. Mine.

NOW, FOR THE BEST OF:

Best Quote overheard while running: "I know honey, I'm so proud of you for kicking that goal, but mommy's a little busy running a marathon right now. I'll call you back just as soon as I cross the finish line."

Best Cheer: A song in Spanish a woman sung to me - something about "Corre, Mateo, corre" (Run, Mateo, run).

Best Water Station: Mile 8. Hands down. Everyone is dressed up in costumes like the Village People and just having a great time.

Best Organized Group Spectators: the group giving away "Free High Fives" at Mile 23.

Best Sign: "Run like you stole something!"

Best Costume: Man running in cow costume, with a friend running behind him wearing a farmer's overalls.

Best T-Shirt: "ALWAYS PICKED LAST IN GYM"

Chicago v 2.0

2005-10-03T21:26:00.000-05:00

Hey there faithful reader. How are you? I know, I know, it's been a while, but the Chicago marathon is right around the corner, so I've been running a lot. Welcome back. Oh and you first-time reader in the back of the class? Welcome to you too. I might warn you that I have a tendancy to be a bit non-linear. If I get too tangential for you, just wave something shiny in front of me. Much like a squirrel, shiny things usually seem to grab my attention.

Oh, speaking of squirrels, did I ever tell you how I got a pre-marathon massage about this time last year, and get this... the massage therapist cut the massage five minutes short. She told me I was too "squirrely" to finish the massage. Now, to her credit, she's absolutely right. I totally get all squirrely when people touch me.

*reader frantically waves shiny object in the air to get Mateo back on task*

Oh thanks. Seriously though. I'm a complete spaz tonight. Fine. I'm a bigger spaz than NORMAL tonight. Like I said, the marathon is this weekend - T minus five days and counting - so I have about sixteen bajillion and four random thoughts flying through my head right now. Granted, it certainly doesn't help that I'm listening to trance music to decide what is going to make the "Mateo Chicago Marathon 2005 cut" on my MP3 player. I know what you're thinking, but when it comes to running, my music selection is CRITICAL.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm not talking that my music selection is "Holy cats, if I don't pick out the absolutely perfect marathon running songs, I'm going to die" kind of critical... I'm talking more like... "Holy cats, if I don't pick out the absolutely perfect marathon running songs, THE WHOLE WORLD IS GOING TO DIE" kind of critical. That's how much music is a part of my running. For me, running without music is like running without water. I suppose it could be done, but I'm not going to risk it. If you want to try it, knock your bad self out.

Every year, I also pick one song to be THE SONG of the marathon. Typically, it's got a killer driving beat, which just makes me want to run forever. I usually stumble upon it randomly, but I know instantly. Much like a bad head cold, it's one of those songs that you can't shake for weeks, no matter how much orange juice you drink. Now, I know this sounds like crazy talk, but this year, I think I might have actually found not only THE SONG of the marathon, but perhaps THE ALBUM of the marathon.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you... Mateo's 2005 marathon album pick of the year. "The Understanding" by Röyksopp. Weird name, delicious music. You can hear album cuts and even watch the video for the song "49 Percent" at www.royksopp.com. Now let's get one thing perfectly clear, even with the internet downloadfest going on out there, I'm a big believer of always buying the actual album. If you like what you hear, go out and buy the album. You can spare the $15. What does fifteen dollars buy you these days anyway? A gallon and a half of gas? These poor artists are trying to make a living just like you and I are.

Well, now you know I'll be running 26.2 miles to. I'm sure some of you love it, some of you will hate it. Some of you hate it before even giving it a listen. Just like brussel sprouts, I'm just asking that you taste it before you turn up your nose. Maybe it will inspire you to run, too.

Oh, and speaking of inspiration, you know what gets me all fired up about running more than music? Encouraging my friends to start running or exercising, and then seeing them succeed. Oh man. Just yesterday I watched a long-time friend cross the finish line of her very first 5k. She was amazing. Cheering her on brought me right back to when I first started running and crossed my very first finish line. Believe me, after thirty years of inactivity, there's absolutely no other feeling of accomplishment that overwhelms you like crossing a finish line. So go out and run, bike, walk, or cheer on a friend. You might just catch the bug and next time it will be you crossing that finish line.

See you in Chicago.

Heath Crunch Pie

2005-09-21T21:01:00.000-05:00

OK, so I found the M&M's. I found them, made trail mix, and managed to eat the entire three cups of trail mix within 48 hours. You know you'd do it too, so don't get all stone-throwy on me. Your house is made of just as much glass as mine. Let's say we call a truce. I won't tell anybody about that half a cherry cheesecake you ate at 3am, and mum's the word on my trail mix. Deal?

So now I've moved on to bigger and better things. Homemade Heath Crunch pie. Oh yes, you read that correctly. AS I SIT HERE TYPING, I am enjoying a delicious piece of homemade Heath Crunch pie. Life certainly doesn't get any better than this. I would sell my mother down the river for a slice of Heath Crunch pie.

Just for the record, I AM KIDDING. My mom is worth WAY more than a piece of pie. I mean, seriously, with her upper body strength and work ethic, I could get at least $500 for her on the Asian black market. Plus, she loves to knit, and I'm sure those knitting needles would come in handy if she ever found herself in the midst of a pack of wild boars. Well, enough about my mother. Clearly, I've been watching too much MacGyver.

Back to the pie... Essentially, the pie is baking schrapnel from the sugar bomb that exploded in my house this past Sunday. Now let's get one thing perfectly clear. Normally, I am a huge fan of sugar bombs, but I was just commenting today that I "just don't understand why I always have cavities when I go to the dentist". Your Honor, may I present to you "Exhibit A".

So I had my twenty mile training run this past Sunday, so some friends decided to have a bake-off at my house while I was out. "Wait a minute, I run twenty miles, and when I return, my house will be full of homemade chocolatey goodness?" I felt like Charlie Bucket holding the golden ticket. I had officially won the chocolottery. Because no matter who loses in a bake-off... I still win.

There was Bailey's chocolate marble cheesecake, Toblerone truffles, vanilla and chocolate cream puffs, and Heath Crunch pie. Oh, and for breakfast, there was quiche. Oh man. Oh man, oh man, oh man. I couldn't get enough of it.

And this is why I run. It's a good thing that the Chicago marathon is just around the corner. I need to burn off some serious calories. I got new shoes yesterday, and they tore my feet to shreds this morning on my eight miler. But the greatest pain is actually that the only pair of my beloved Saucony's they had in stock were red and grey, which means I have to do a last minute wardrobe change for the marathon. Argh. I guess I really will be wearing that red shirt after all.

So wish me luck on the marathon. I can't believe that this will be marathon number three. It's pretty amazing considering that less than 5 years ago, I was completely sedentary (and as a result, morbidly obese). So you just keep baking and I'll keep running. We'll meet somewhere in the middle.

Mateo

Oh, and just for the record, that MacGyver comment was clearly a joke, since I've never even seen an episode of it. But I know what you're thinking, and yes, my mother could TOTALLY hold her own in a pack of wild boars! After all, she had eight sons!

Lucky

2005-09-06T21:55:00.000-05:00

I realized how lucky I am tonight. Well, I always knew I was lucky, but tonight reconfirmed my previous findings. I realized this while I was frantically cleaning the front porch light fixture. It's a long story how I got to cleaning the front porch light fixture, so I'll try to summarize it the best I can.

Basically, my friend Bob was over and he and I had spent a couple of hours trying to solve the world's problems. We didn't solve them all, but we did manage to tackle a couple of them. Well, he had just left my house, and I was craving some food. OK, truth be told, I was craving some chocolate. Before you get all huffy-healthy on me, keep in mind that within the past seven days alone, I've run 30+ miles, biked 70+ miles, and kayaked 10+ miles. I would think that would merit a nifty little chocolate treat.

My snack of choice lately has been trail mix. It's relatively healthy because of the peanuts and raisins, but come on, you eat it for the same reason that I do. The world loves M&M's. I know that most of you are thinking that I shouldn't be able to eat them in trail mix, because normally when I eat M&M's, my OCD kicks in and I have to seperate them out into their respective colors and then eat them in prime numbered groupings. For some quirky reason, when M&M's are included as a part of greater food entity (i.e. trail mix or a Dairy Queen Blizzard) I can blissfully eat them in any crazy order.

So I would love some trail mix, but I can't have any. You read that correctly. I can't have any. Now keep in mind, there's actually a bag of M&M's in my house right now... I just don't know where. It's been hidden from me in an attempt to curb my chocolate consumation... and it's driving me insane. I've been on an "M&M Safari" for hours now. I've looked everywhere, even in the basement. Well, as I was searching high and low, I kept finding little jobs to complete around the house (in an attempt to keep my mind off my choco-cravings). I had dishes to clean, cupboards to organize, lights to replace... you name it.

So by the time I had gone through nearly the entire house, finally getting to replacing the front porch light and realizing how badly the light fixture needed to be cleaned; I also realized how lucky I am to be blessed with such a great home and a great life, especially when much of the world is often in the midst of turmoil. We have so much. Much more than many, and often much more than we need.

So I gave up hunting the elusive bag of M&M's. I grabbed some grapes, and sat down to start my list. Every once in a while, I stop to make a list of all of the things for which I'm grateful. It's a very long list. I suggest you try it sometime. It makes you forget all about your problems and really appreciate what you have.

I know I usually share my various lists with you; however, I think I'll keep this one to myself. It's pretty personal. Much of it has to do with all of the overwhelmingly amazing people in my life and the unbelievable second chance I got with my health. Five years ago, I couldn't have even fathomed a week full of running, biking, and kayaking. So here I sit, counting my blessings... and counting my grapes into prime-numbered groupings, of course. I am a lucky man.

Although I'd be a whole lot luckier if I could just find those darn M&M's...

Chicago Here I Come!

2005-08-24T22:02:00.000-05:00

Well, I clearly don't have much that can top that last blog posting (if you want to know the truth, it has to be my favorite posting to date). Not much excititing has been happening in my life lately either. I've spent a lot of time running and diving into new music. So I'll just randomly throw out a few things I've learned today.

1. The Chicago marathon is just around the corner, so I learned that my training has to seriously kick into high gear. As a result, I really should be in bed right now, rather than blogging... but I just can't get enough of you blog fans. I'm running the marathon with a BUNCH of friends this year. In fact, every week I hear of more and more people that not only are running it, but claim that they are running it "with me". I hope they don't mind running at a snail's pace, because I'm fat and way out of shape. That means I have roughly six weeks to get into shape. Argh.

2. I discovered that if you let your laundry go long enough, you will get to a point where you can't even see your own bedroom floor. I think it's carpeted, but I can't be sure.

3. I learned that there's yet another crazy "language play" out there, called "Ong" language. I love learning about other languages and cultures. Well, I googled Ong language, and it seems that it actually is a Cantonese version of Pig Latin. You spell out words, saying "ong" after every consonant, and fully pronouncing the vowels. It sounds absolutely hilarious when spoken. Tong O tong A long long yong cong rong A zong yong. If any of you know of other fun languages or "language play" out there, let me know. I eat it up.

4. I've learned that no matter how good of friends you are, you shouldn't "surprise" anyone by ringing their doorbell at 6:30 in the morning. They get mad. Repeat the process enough, and eventually, they get even. So... even if you're wide awake and going for a refreshing morning run, chances are good that the rest of the world isn't.

5. Speaking of super early in the morning, I've found that really funny things are said before work. This past week specifically:

Woman overheard on cellphone at 7:30 am. "What? We were subpoenaed to appear in court? Seriously? I don't remember ANYTHING about the accident! Oh man, what are we going to wear?"

I had just gotten done running, and some friends stopped over to have breakfast on the patio. I quickly showered and ran out to join them.
Me: "Hey, did you ever call Patrick?"
A: "Uh..." (completely blank stare ensuing)
Me: "Oh... (looking down at myself) I should probably be wearing pants, huh?"
A: "Uh... yeah."

I'm sure more funny things were said, but I'm tired, and I have to do SOME laundry tonight. Oh look, my bedroom really IS carpeted! How about that?

Couscous

2005-08-14T19:26:00.000-05:00

So it turns out that my dog doesn't like couscous. How do I know this, you ask? Well, because at this very moment I'm hunkered down behind a big mountain of couscous. OK, so it's a bit more reminiscent of a grassy knoll of couscous than a big mountain, but I'm sure you get the picture. Why am I eating a grassy knoll of couscous, you ask? Well, for starters, you really are awfully inquisitive tonight, but since you're such a faithful blog reader, I'll tell you. I haven't been feeling so hot lately. Not at all. So dinner is consisting of rather bland and boring couscous, lime jello, and tea. Blah. I keep expecting a husky German nurse named Helga to walk in at any minute and spoon-feed it to me.

Before I go any further, I must warn you more sensitive readers that you may want to stop here. If you read on and get queasy, take this as my disclaimer of absolving myself from any form of responsibilty.

That being said... Let's just say I didn't exactly buy lunch today... but rather... I "rented" it. Oh man, I haven't been this sick in a while. I mean, I literally got out of my car and RAN into the house after lunch, because I could sense the precious little time I had in which to expel the poison. And by poison, I mean "huevos y choriso". Don't get me wrong, I love Mexican food, and 99.99% of the time, Mexican food loves me. Today was .01%.

I know what you're thinking. "You probably got food poisoning! You should call up that restaurant and sue them! You could make enough money to start your own restaurant!" Well, just calm down, stop shaking your fist in the air, and take off your lawyer hat. For those of you who don't know me, I'm just not a litigious person. Even after getting hit by a 2002 Toyota Camry while jogging (and subsequently having to pay for damages to the driver's car) I didn't sue. I was angry, sure... but I didn't sue. Life is too short to waste your time in a courtroom. Get outside and go running.

Which leads me to my larger point du jour. Whether or not lunch today was food poisoning, I can't tell you, because lately I've had a major case of... well... uh... what I like to refer to as "runner's gurgle".

Hmmm... how do I explain this tactfully? Well, I did put in the disclaimer above, so if you're still reading and get sick, it's your own darn fault.

For you avid runners out there, you know EXACTLY what "Runner's gurgle" is. You need no explanation. For those of you non-runners, RG is essentially your stomach's way of informing your brain that it has something to expel. Once your brain receives the interbodily communication, it's then up to you to determine the following.

1. You must determine which direction your body is going to expel said poison. Unless you're an alien, the expulsion has one of two roads to travel. It's either going North or it's going South. Now I'm not a huge fan of throwing up (don't start thinking I'm bulimic here) but keep in mind that when running on a trail with no restroom for miles... throwing up is the much... uh... "cleaner" option.

2. You must determine how much time you have before said expulsion. Typically when I get the gurgle, I have five minutes if it's coming North, and fifteen minutes if it's headed South.

Long story short, I was on one of my long runs last weekend (it actually was only a 10 miler, but it was on a trail in the middle of NOWHERE) and I got the gurgle. I mean, I really got the gurgle. The "it's headed South, and you have exactly 5 minutes before this plane lands" kind of gurgle. Well, as I said, I was on a trail passing through the middle of Nowheresville, so I actually thought thought the unthinkable. Yes, if all else fails, I suppose I could make a bathroom break out in the woods. After all, according to my dog, the world is your toilet.

It was a Sunday, so I started praying as hard as I could. I was begging the good lord above for a little mercy. I mean, there was a porta-john at the trail entrance... just a mere thirty minutes away. Well, the good lord wasn't buying it. Now I had wasted a good two minutes praying for time, and the only thing it got me was two minutes closer to the inevitable.

Well, the gurgle was turning into a full roar and I was really starting to sweat. Seeing that I'm not a bear - and that I never was never a boyscout - I've never gone in the woods. I have no idea the protocol involved. Where do you go? What am I supposed to wipe with? Oh man, with my luck, I'd grab a bunch of poison ivy and get a rash all over my behind.

"OK, God... if you're listening, I could really use a box of Kleenex out here on the trail! SERIOUSLY! Anything! If you throw me a bone, I promise to only buy socially-conscious coffee which benefits Himalayan whistle kids!" I know it's kind of a weak promise, but I wasn't exactly thinking clearly at the time. Cut me some slack.

So as with any issue I have, I try to ignore it and just focus on my running (of course while continuing to ferverently pray and make promises to the heavens).

Now here's the amazing part of the story. I am not lying here. After nearly five minutes of pushing my luck, I can't go any further. I'm not a gambling man. I give in. I throw my cards on the table. Fine. I start to slow down and begin looking for a place in the woods to call home for a while.

Although... just as I'm ready to take the offramp into TotalEmbarassmentTown, I see it. Two neatly folded Kleenex, right in the middle of the trail. I swear to you. Dead center of the trail, as if left as a gift from Heaven. True, I'm sure someone (more prepared than I) accidentally dropped them, but I didn't care. They were there for a reason, and that reason was me. No need to buy me any presents for a while. I just cashed my karma check, and Christmas came early this year.

I'll end the story there. Just know that I've never been so happy to see two little Kleenex. It did the job perfectly, and I'm still here to tell about it, so life is just peachy. But I'll tell you I learned something. Even though I was never a boy scout, from now on, I'm going to be prepared and bring some tissues with me running. If I don't use them, maybe I'll just leave them on the trail for someone else in need. It might just be you. You're welcome in advance.

Oh, and do you know where I can get some socially-conscious Himalayan coffee? Argh.

Oh good gravy!

2005-08-05T20:50:00.000-05:00

I don't really have that much to report, but word on the street is that y'all are getting antsy for another blogposting. Well, here's the last few weeks of my life - the disco mix.

1. I got the new computer, and I'm loving every minute of it. It's like hopping on a Cannondale after years of riding a Huffy. This new computer (complete with flatscreen monitor) is the best. Fast, sleek, and far more than what I need. Granted, it was somewhat of an impulse buy. (Monkey Boy, if you're reading this, that comment was for you). Most people impulse buy a candy bar or a magazine... I impulse buy computers, bicycles, and kitchen appliances.

2. I officially quit smoking. I'm sure you're wondering how a person can run marathons, triathlons, and countless roadraces while smoking. Well, I didn't actually smoke WHILE I was running... just in between. Don't worry about it. I've quit. And surprisingly enough, I don't miss it.

3. I rode RAGBRAI - the [Des Moines] Register's Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa. For those of you who don't know, it's a week-long bike ride across the state, and it's awesome. Roughly 25,000 participate, and it's just insane. It's like Mardi Gras on bicycles. For the most part, we had an awesome time. Although...
a. We rode through some tough conditions, from 100 degree weather to torrential rains and tornado warnings. The beauty of Iowa is you can't predict the weather.
b. Our support vehicle (an old bus) broke down on the way out, so we rented a U-Haul to cart our gear across the state. Not the best conditions, but it got the job done.
c. We lost a teammate for 48 hours. When he finally showed up, he was wearing a shirt that said "Timmy" and he was holding a jar of homemade salsa. I didn't ask.
d. One of our teammates crashed and needed 8 stitches in his face.
e. One teammate sliced his foot open on a pedal and needed 12 stitches.
f. One friend got arrested for being a bad girl. Again, I didn't ask.
g. My bike currently has a flat on it. Oh well.
h. My favorite bike accessory fell off my bike and broke. It's a little plane on my handlebars with a propeller that spins when you're riding. I managed to salvage most of it and connect it to my helmet so that I could still use it. http://www.memorylane-classics.com/images/Bike%20Accessories/Air%20plane.JPG

4. I ran the BIX7 in Davenport - a rough 7 mile race. I did well, all things considered. I'm still trying to figure out how they crammed 25 miles of hills into a 7 mile course. Ouch. My quads still hate me.

5. It's been a rough week at work, trying to catch up after being out for a week. Good thing I love my job, eh?

6. If I can fix the flat tire on my bike yet tonight, I'm biking to the Farmer's market tomorrow morning to buy a schload of basil so I can make homemade pesto. MMMmmmm...

Sorry this is so blah, I had a big ol' meal tonight, and I'm totally in a food coma. Off to bed.

I'm BLAMOUS!

2005-07-18T21:41:00.000-05:00

Well, here you go. I finally have hair again. Granted it's not as extreme as this photo, but yes, I indeed have hair again. After a mere three weeks, you can't even tell I shaved my head. I'm thinking of keeping the afro look, though. After all, I'm blamous now.

What's that? You don't know what blamous is? Silly reader. "Blamous" is "Blog-famous", or rather, one who is recognized on the basis of his or her blog. So here's the deal. The craziest thing happened this weekend. I was out of town - two hours from home, in fact - at a Cowboy Junkies/Tracy Bonham concert with a friend, when a complete stranger approached me. First she asked if my name was Mateo, and then asked where I was from. When I acknowledged both questions, she said, "Ohmygod! I totally read your blog!"

Say what? You read my blog? Seriously? Oh man. How cool. And how cool that she recognized me - especially considering that my hair has been about sixteen bajillion different lengths and colors in the past twelve months. She was actually three hours from her home as well, so it was crazy that we would run into each other at a rather small outdoor concert. Another crazy fact is that she goes by "Plush Woman Dancing", while my nickname is "Fat Man Running". Maybe I should adopt "plush". It sounds so much softer. Hmmm... maybe not.

Anyway, enough of my blagging. (Yes, that would be blog-bragging. Jeez, keep up, people!) I should tell you that I probably won't be online for a while. Here's a quick (OCD) list why:

1. My PC is a POC (Piece Of Crap). I did, however, order another one from www.woot.com the other day. It's a really cool site. They feature one item a day at rock-bottom prices until they're sold out. An added bonus is that they only charge $5 shipping, but that also means it could be weeks until it's delivered. For $5, I think they ship by carrier pigeon.

2. I'm going to be gone next week on RAGBRAI. That stands for "[Des Moines] Register's Great Bike Ride Across Iowa", which is just that - a week-long bike ride across the state. It's the world's largest organized bike tour, and it's an absolute blast - somewhat like Mardi Gras on bikes. INSANE. I've spent the last week getting my bike and gear together. I can't wait.

3. When I'm not biking, I'll be running. The Chicago Marathon is just around the corner.

So take care of yourselves. I'll be back soon. Until then, I've pre-made some dinners and put them in the freezer for each day that I'm gone. Just throw them in the microwave for a few minutes after you get home from school and you'll be good to go.

Mateo

P.S. The concert was amazing. If you haven't heard the Cowboy Junkies or Tracy Bonham, I suggest you drop the $15 for either CD. Expand your musical horizons. Trust me on this one. Just ask Plush Woman Dancing...

Fight The Real Enemy!

2005-06-29T19:37:00.000-05:00

Fight The Real Enemy

Hey gang, since my hair is growing at such a rapid pace, I have to post a few pictures quickly before I return to boring, old, full-head-of-hair me. Right now, you would say that I'm at the dreaded "Sinead Stage", where it appears that that I shaved my head to look like a crazy Irish folk singer. Emphasis on the CRAZY. Well, since I look so much like Sinead that her agent keeps asking me to be her body double, I thought it would be funny to reinact her CLM* on SNL*, when she announced "Fight the Real Enemy!" and tore up a picture of the pope. Well, I'm not Catholic, and I'm not crazy, so I thought tearing up a picture of the pope would be quite the sacrilege, especially considering that the new pope has stopped by my blogsite to bless it a time or two. (Thanks, Pope!)

So I googled "Pope" and found this picture. It's a photo of a man named "Mike Pope" and I think he's a guitar instructor from Indiana or something. So Mike, I mean you no offense, but you have to admit it makes for a funny photo. And truth be told, you don't have your hand on the red phone to the man upstairs like the real pope does. I mean, he talks directly to God while you're teaching 12 year olds how to play "Stairway to Heaven". The real pope could probably curse me with a music career like Sinead's. No thanks.

Anyway, enough of that. I haven't updated you on my running lately, so I will quickly. I'm officially in the Chicago Marathon again, so I'll be one of 40,000+ people running it. (I'll be the one wearing a red shirt). My training has started, and I can't wait. Chicago is such a fun marathon! I had a great 5k "training" run this morning with friends. Actually, it was less for training, and more to uphold our "Take Back The Trail" day, as today marks the anniversary of a local woman's brutal attack exactly one year ago. Over 300 people gathered at the trail this morning; to be together, to celebrate community, and to cheer her amazing recovery and subsequent return to the trail. It was an amazing morning. I was proud to be there.

But I was there a year ago, too. Much like today, I was training for the Chicago Marathon. And much like today, I was only scheduled to run 3 miles. Unfortunately, I stopped a mere half mile from where the crime took place - at roughly the exact time that it was happening. I'm not saying that I could have stopped it from happening, and quite frankly, something even more serious could have happened to her or me. I don't know. But I do know that it affected me much more deeply than I thought it did. Man, did it affect me.

I'm much more aware of my surroundings now. I have my music on a little quieter, I say hello to everyone I pass, and I look them in the eye. This isn't a bad change, it's just learning to deal with the world in which we live. So if you're a big outdoors person like me, just be alert. And if you want to borrow Loki for a run, just ask. Granted, he's absolutely no good for protection (unless you happen to get attacked by squirrels), but he looks like a white wolf, which can be pretty intimidating...

Today helped me find a lot of the closure I've been needing. I won't give you the woman's name, but it's been exactly a year since she was nearly beaten to death and left to die, and let me tell you, she looks FANTASTIC. I am amazed by her physical recovery, but more importantly, I'm so proud of her for staring fear in the face and returning to the location a year later. She's a winner, I tell you. None of this "Fear-Factor-I-have-to-eat-worms-to-win-fifty-thousand-dollars" crap, but a real winner. She's not letting this attack own her, but rather she's owning it. That's her trail dammit - she's earned it. We should all be so strong.

Well, I have to go. I promised a friend I would help him pack boxes for his upcoming move. Note to self, you probably shouldn't let a person with OCD help you pack. Everything has to fit into the boxes as neatly as a Tetris game. Oh boy...

*Oh, and BTW, CLM = Career Limiting Move, and SNL = Saturday Night Live. People like me love our TLA. TLA = Three Letter Acronyms. And yes, I do find it slightly ironic that we describe three letter acronyms with a three letter acronym. Don't ask.

2005-06-22T08:26:00.000-05:00

Bald Man Runnin'

Baldness Blogness

2005-06-22T07:50:00.000-05:00

Yes I did it. Thanks to all of my amazing friends and family, I raised well over my $2,000 goal for this Friday's American Cancer Society Relay For Life. So, as promised, I'm bald. Bald, bald, bald. Once again, I'm having issues uploading photos to this blog, so the photos will be coming soon. Promise. Well, I have to get headed to work soon, so you're getting another OCD list:

Total money raised by Mateo - $3,000+
Total money raised in Linn County for the American Cancer Society - $300,000
Total number of miles run by Mateo - 13.1 (half marathon)
Total number of laps on a quarter mile track - 52
Total number of granola bars consumed by Mateo - 5
Total number of heads shaved - 1

I must be completely honest here. Although it's getting many rave reviews, I don't really like my head shaved. I think it makes me look mean. Like Harley-riding, leather jacket-wearing, baseball bat-wielding mean. I look like I should be in a Harley bar rather than a martini bar. Jinkies! Well, perhaps next year I'll shave it BEFORE the fundraising to intimidate people into donating even more money! Take care and run on!

Mateo (Bald Man Runnin')

P.S. I wouldn't suggest running a half marathon on a quarter mile track. A person can get really dizzy after running 52 laps...

P.P.S. I know, I know... Harley-riding bald men don't use the word "Jinkies". Well this one does, so you're going to have to get over it.

Miniblog

2005-06-14T18:34:00.000-05:00

I know, I know... I don't blog enough to keep you people happy. Well, I'm alive. I've just been crazy busy lately. Work is insane, I'm trying to keep on top of my running/biking/swimming, and I've been trying to manifest something which resembles a social life. Speaking of my running, the good news - rather, GREAT news - is that I turned in the bulk of my pledges for the Relay for Life, and the current total is $2,290, with roughly $500 outstanding pledges. WOW. Wow, wow. I'm floored, amazed, touched, and... a little scared.

Yes, I said it. I'm scared. This really means that I have to go through with that little "if I raise $2000, I'll shave my head" thing. I know I promised I'd do it... Promises, schmomises. Do I really have to do it? What if I my head looks stupid bald? What if I look like one of those serial killers who always "kept to himself"? What if my dog freaks out and won't run with me anymore? Wait a minute... there's an idea! Can I shave my dog instead? It is summer after all, and he is a rather warm-blooded Alaskan Husky. Truth be told, he would probably welcome a summer crew cut.

Fine, I'll do it, and yes, I'll take pictures. The Relay is this Friday night, and I'm planning to run from 8pm to midnightish. I'll probably run a half marathon or so, depending on the weather. I usually try to log 13 miles every year. Admittedly, it's only a quarter mile track, so a person can get pretty dizzy after lapping it 52 times. Plus, I have a tendancy to lose count of my laps when I'm in the mid-30's. It's so cool to run at dusk when they light the luminarias though, which are lit for those we've lost to cancer. It's pretty moving when you stop to think about it. Plus, it's probably the only time in your life that you have the opportunity to run by candlelight.

So for those of you who have donated, thank you. For those of you who haven't, there's still time. For those of you who can't, I encourage you to get out and do something in your own community. You don't have to give money. Give of yourself. There are a lot of people out there who need you. Rather than sitting behind a computer reading my blog, you could be helping an elderly person find food, helping a child find a mentor, or helping a dog find a good home. Ask around, there are hundreds of organizations that can use you.

Well, I have to run. I probably won't have a chance to blog before the Relay, so I'll be back in a few days with "Bald Man Runnin" photos. Promise. No schmomise...

Pigman IV

2005-06-05T14:54:00.000-05:00

Well, today was the fourth Pigman sprint triathlon that I've completed in my newly-healthy life, and I just love it. I have a new PR under my belt, knocking a good three minutes off my previous PR. Sure, I was hoping to shave a good 10 minutes off my time (it's the perfectionist in me), but all things considered, I'm still happy. My swim was fast and strong, my bike was as good as can be expected with 35+ mph headwinds, and my run was consistent. Pretty impressive, since I was up until 1am with tornado and thunderstorm warnings all night. The beauty of living in Iowa is the unpredictability of the weather.

The other beauty of living in Iowa is the people. For those of you readers who live elsewhere, I hope you encounter people half as cool as the people here. The reason I do the Pigman (and will continue to do it until I physically can't) is the overwhelming comraderie of the participants. It's like a cult of triathloning, I tell you. Sure, these people aren't my best friends, and I don't even know most of their names, but I know them, and they know me. Almost all of the regulars were there: "Red Shirt Guy", "Tall Michael", Eric, Greg, "Minneapolis Girl"... y'all did great. ("Pirate Lady", where were you this year?) Familiar and encouraging faces are everywhere, and we cheer each other on, because much like life, we're all in this together, just trying to make it through and do the best we can.

My personal favorites are the newbies. They're as easy to spot as a Republican at an Indigo Girls concert. They have that "WHAT THE HECK DID I GET MYSELF INTO" look all over their faces. There were a lot of those faces today. Once they feel the overwhelming pride of crossing that finish line, they catch the triathloning bug, just like I did. Trust me, they'll be back.

Blue Shirt Lady will be back. She was struggling with the last leg of the run, with only a mile to go. As I was approaching her, I did my typical, "Hey Blue Shirt! I'm on your tail! You don't want to get passed by a fat man!". She was able to laugh through her laboured breath, and we ran together briefly, while exchanging training horror stories. As I was pulling away she yelled, "You're awesome, Fat Man! You're the fastest man out here!"

You're damn right, Blue Shirt. And for about ten seconds, I felt like I was the fastest man in the world. That was all I needed to hear to kick it in and really fly. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to keep up with me, but she finished strong with a huge (and well-deserved) smile plastered all over her newbie face. She'll keep up with me next year.

So the next time you're completing a triathlon, running a road race, or just sitting at work... why don't you take a second to give the person next to you a word of encouragement? It might just be the boost they need to finish strong. Who knows, they might just return the favor.

All in all, it was a good race. No, it was a great race. I don't even care that a thirteen year old girl beat me. She was a total rockstar. If you're reading this Alison, way to go!

Althlete's Blog

2005-05-30T08:14:00.000-05:00

T-Minus one week and counting for the triathlon. I'm hitting the bike pretty hard (which is where you make up the most time) but it's almost to a fault. I'm cramping up again. Bad. Really bad. I know, I know... I need to hydrate and eat bananas. Well, I already feel like I drink my bodyweight in water everyday and I still can't eat bananas after throwing them up while training for the Chicago Marathon last year. Argh. Any suggestions?

By the way, I'm officially in the Chicago Marathon again this year. I can't wait. I may not be the fastest runner in the world, but running Chicago makes even a fat man feel like a Kenyan. People are screaming your name the whole time. It's completely rockstar. I'm also trying to talk a friend into doing the Paris Marathon in 2007. (I lived in Paris about 10 years ago, so it would be a fun trip in addition to running the marathon).

Oh, and Loki is doing great. We went for our first "post-accident" run yesterday. I let him determine the pace/distance, and we went a very impressive 7 miles. It was a near-perfect run. One of those rare days when everything just flows perfectly. Loki was even wearing his favorite "Stars and Stripes" bandanna (in honor of Memorial Day), and a cute woman told him he had a "cute outfit". He totally bragged about it the rest of the day.

So to to celebrate the perfect run, I've written a hai-ku about it. Nothing says celebration like a little Japanese poetry.

Morning trail running
Cool rain, fresh air, dog in tow
Perfect nirvana.

Well, I'm off for yet another a bike ride. Hope to keep those cramps at bay...

LTNB

2005-05-27T10:16:00.000-05:00

Long Time, No Blog. Yeah, yeah, yeah... get over it. I'm a busy man, people. Rest assured that I'm still alive and kicking (luckily, so is Loki - he's doing GREAT) so I thought I'd send a quick shout out to my peeps in Blogland. I hope you're all doing well. You look amazing.

Life has been pretty crazy here in Mateoville, so here's today's list, the disco mix:

1. I have my first sprint triathlon in a couple weeks, so I've been training like a maniac. Surprisingly enough, right now my swim is feeling like my strongest leg. Obviously this has me a bit concerned, as I view myself primarily as a runner. To boot, my running feels like my weakest leg right now. Hmmm... I don't completely know what to make of that.

2. My running. I ran a fun little 5k last weekend, and didn't do so hot. (Plus, they gave me LAST YEAR'S t-shirt. Uh, thanks.) Anyhew, back to the the actual run. Yet again, we had to run through a cemetary (and you KNOW how I hate running through cemetaries - I'm always afraid that the dead will spring to life and try to grab at my ankles. I know, I know... it's a result of watching too much "Buffy The Vampire Slayer"). My final time was a weak and pathetic 26 minutes, which I suppose isn't that bad considering I only slept for 30 minutes that night. I know I need to take better care of myself - especially during racing season. I've never been fast, but 26 minutes is pretty slow, even for me! Regardless of my time, I saw so many of my running friends and just had a GREAT time.

3. The reason I only got 30 minutes of sleep was because of a 80's retro rollerskating birthday party I went to the night before the race. It was an absolute riot. My friend Mary bought the roller rink for a couple hours, and we all came in our finest 80's attire. You know I dusted off my high school letter jacket and rollerskated with the best of them. And by the best of them, I mean I fell in the first ten minutes and totally screwed up my knee. It's fine. I'm young and invincible. You can see "fun photos" at my friend's website - www.marydiers.com

4. Yup, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the whole "I'm going to have a new Phillipino half brother or sister in August" thing. Honestly, I'm not completely sure what to make of the whole thing. Until I can figure it out, I will continue to use humour as my emotional shield. :-)

5. The Relay For Life is just around the corner, and so is my full head of thick hair. It looks like I'm going to indeed hit my $2,000 head-shaving target, but keep the donations coming. The American Cancer Society is a great cause. I'm so very excited to run the relay again. It's one of my favorite events of the year.

6. I'm organizing a bike ride in two weeks (yes, the day before the triathlon) and hopefully that will have a good turnout. I know the timing isn't the greatest - but I'm an aries - do now, think later. Yet another week on no sleep. Argh.

7. The world must have shifted on it's axis this week, because I ACTUALLY WENT TO WORK ON TUESDAY AND LEFT THE COFFEE POT ON! Not only did I leave it plugged in, but I actually left it ON! Luckily nothing happened (I'm sure they're designed with safety in mind), but all heck broke lose in my mind. Regardless, I think I'm going to stick to making French Press coffee for a while. Now if only I can remember to turn the stove off after boiling the water... Eeeek!

Be well, people. Run on.

Hi Honey, I'm Home.

2005-05-16T08:58:00.001-05:00

Hi honey, I'm home. What are you cooking for dinner? It smells delicious. Well, As you can see from the photo, Loki is looking and feeling much better. It was mentioned that he looks like "Skar" from the Lion King. Hmmm. You wouldn't hardly even know that Loki was hit a week ago. He's up and bouncing around like the day I brought him home from the pound. I'm just glad that he's back home and feeling great. It's a good thing that chicks dig scars. I would hate for him to lose his reputation. Yeah, now he's going around telling all the other dogs in the neighborhood that he was in a gang fight.

Oh man, so much has happened in the past week, I don't even know where to begin. For you sporty spices out there, I'm officially in for the Pigman sprint triathlon in a few weeks. It's one of the most well organized tri's in the midwest, and I've done it every year since I lost all the weight. I finally dragged my sorry tail to the gym to go swimming, and actually I'm doing much better than I thought I would. I knocked out a few sprint distance training sessions in the gym last week, and I'm feeling fast and strong. So strong that I'm considering an olympic distance tri next year. Hmmm...

One other small piece of news is that I'm no longer going to be the baby of the family. Yes, I found out this weekend that my father and step-mother are expecting. WHAT? I know what you're thinking, but I saw it with my own two eyes. You can't tell me anything I don't already know. Let me give you a quick list. You know how I love my lists.

1. My father is 71 years old and in rather poor health. He will be roughly 90 years old when the child graduates from high school.

2. His wife is 37 years old (and from the Phillippines). On a positive note, her English is getting much better since she's been in the states. Don't ask how they met, I personally choose to live in denial on that one.

3. My father already has 8 children (all boys), of which I am the youngest. This means at thirty three years old, I am no longer the baby of the family. Suddenly I'm the middle child. I'm Jan Brady. I build my entire life around being the youngest, and now this. I don't even know who I am anymore.

4. The icing on the fruitcake is that they have decided to name the child a combination of both of their names. For my family's privacy, I'll maintain some level of anonymity. Therefore, I won't tell you exactly what the name is going to be, but it sounds roughly like "Macarena". So essentially whenever you're at a wedding reception and you see a bunch of rhythmless white people hopping around the floor to some crappy Spanish song, you'll think of me and my little Phillipino sister. Oh dear.

So there you have it. My week in a nutshell. And you wonder why I'm nuts. You can't make this stuff up, people. This is exactly why I run. It's the one thing that keeps me grounded. Well, my mother keeps me grounded too. She's so cool. By the way, I finally got photos from when I was home last week. She loved the sharkstooth necklace I gave her for Mother's Day. I'm attached photos of her in her Dutch costume, proudly wearing her sharktooth for protection.

Perhaps my father should wear some protection too...

2005-05-16T08:58:00.000-05:00

dutch mom

Time Off

2005-05-09T21:24:00.000-05:00

Hey gang, just wanted to let you know that the upcoming week might be a bit blog-light for me. My best friend, best running partner, and best pooch got out of the yard this morning and was hit by a car. Of course when I chased after him, he thought we were going for one of our daily runs, and started running towards the trail - right into the street. Watching your dog get hit by a car is an image that is hard to shake.

On the bright side, Loki is doing pretty well, so the vet sent him home already, thinking he will recover better in his own surroundings. So I'm taking some time off to spoil him rotten. He should be alright in a few weeks. He's cut up pretty badly and deeply on his face - it looks like he got into a gang fight. Don't worry, he's on a mountain of puppy pills right now, so he's sleeping soundly.

The other silver lining is that about seven strangers came running to help, and my phone has been ringing off the hook with concerned people - friends and strangers. One stranger even went to the animal hospital and anonymously paid the bill before I had the chance to. Talk about restoring your faith in humanity.

The irony of it all is that he was hit by a car while running about 100 yards from the exact spot where I was hit by a car while running two years ago...

Long Time, No Blog

2005-05-09T08:29:00.000-05:00

I know, I know. I'm a bit behind on the blog. Cut me some slack. I had a long week/weekend. For starters, I went to my hometown for the Tulip Festival - primarily to run the Festival 5k with my family. Well, the good news is that I was the fastest one in my family, but only because everyone backed out except my 45 year old sister-in-law and her 12 year old son - who has a touch of asthma. So my 25 minute 5k certainly wasn't my best time, but it wasn't my worst either.

As a result of my recent racing times, I'm on this hardcore diet regimen for race season. I call it "2000 in 2005". I can only consume 2000 calories a day until I get back to my racing weight. Well, you know what that means... I couldn't enjoy all of the delicious Dutch treats - which were everywhere! Dutch Letters, poffertjes, you name it... I couldn't eat it. Yes, I even had to help my mother make homemade Dutch Letters (which are a delicious treat if you've never had one), but I didn't get to eat any. Oh well. Speaking of my mother, she LOVED the sharktooth necklace for mother's day. She even wore it proudly with her Dutch costume. I should hopefully have some pictures of that soon. It was too funny.

So my life is a bit on the crazy side lately. Just to mention a couple of "interesting" things that happened this weekend...

1. While I was gone, my friends decided to "Queer Eye" my bathroom, and put in NEW FLOORING and a new toilet. I mean, it's one thing to add a photo or paint the walls, but to tile a floor? I had no idea it was happening. Let's just say, it was quite the surprise. It looks awesome, though. I love it. Now I need to buy new towels to match the new floors.

I guess I should be used to things like this. The last few times that I've left on vacation, I come home and my friends have redecorated a room in my house. One time, as a joke, they actually tried to sell my house while I was gone. NICE. I don't need a new house, I need new friends...

2. So I attended my first (and hopefully last) birthday party in a funeral home this weekend. The party was great, but... drinking Miller Light around dead people... well... it's just a bit odd. I was assured that there were no dead bodies at the actual funeral home during the festivities, as the dead kind of freak me out. (Sidebar, I run a lot of races which cut through cemetaries, which totally freaks me out - anyone else feel this way?)

Yes, I know that I wear dead men's clothing that I buy at the Salvation Army, but that's for sport. It's not like I'm actually taking the shirt off Uncle Mark's cold, dead body. I just don't like to be around dead people. I don't know if it's more respect for the dead or fear of the dead. Either way, I'll pass on partying in the funeral home. All night I was having flashbacks of Michael Jackson's "Thriller" video, and it was freaking me out. Not because the zombies are so scary... but because Michael Jackson is. Yikes.

Oh, and for a little OCD update: Since the truck is in the shop, I drove my car to my hometown this weekend, which is 110 miles each way. Well, I'm happy to report that my car didn't blow up. (Don't ask, I have this crazy fear that my car is going to overheat and blow up while I'm driving it. Which is exactly why I bought the truck. Rather than confront my fears, I chose to live in denial, thanks.) But I drove my car, and I didn't completely freak out... which means I'm getting better with this OCD thing... well, at least I think I am.

*Runs to the kitchen to unplug the coffee maker*

PhotBlog, Part 2

2005-05-04T08:21:00.000-05:00

Well, word on the street is that y'all are dying to see what I look like, so here's a photo. It's not the best photo of me, but it's one of the most current. It's from Hawaii (obviously) and I'm in the center - the geek in the cowboy hat. Now don't you go making fun of the cowboy hat, it was a gift from my friends after I ran my first marathon in Dallas. After you lose 110lbs and run your first 26.2 miles, I'll let you wear whatever you want. Thems the rules, folks.

Unfortunately, this photo doesn't really show me that well, but perhaps that's best. Keep the mystery alive. I like the fact that the cowboy hat covers my hair, as we had a bit of a haircoloring mishap before vacation. Let's just say that I was going for "cherry cola", but the end result was closer to "Grape Nehi". Yes, my hair was purple. Don't ask. Maybe it's a good thing I'm shaving my head for the Relay for Life.

Speaking of the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life, you all are awesome. People keep surprising me with their selfless and generous donations. Last night, I got a donation from my friend's sister, who is a poor college student. Wow. She could be out spending it on underage drinking, but rather she gives it to people in need. How cool. Also, I wanted to give a shout out to Lori, who was my first "blog donation". Would that be a "blogation"? Regardless, it was very cool. So keep spreading the word people - tell your friends. And by the way, I looked into donating my shaved hair to "Locks of Love" but the minimum length is 10". I don't think I'll be able to grow 10" in a month. For more info, check out www.locksoflove.org.

Well, I'm headed to my hometown for a few days to run a race with my siblings, and to spend some quality time with my family. And by "quality time", I mean fixing everyone's computers. Ever since I started working in computers, I'm "Uncle Fix My Computer". I miss the good old days when I did translation, because my family never asked anything of me. Anyway, I'll be away from blogland for a while. Sorry, campers.

Oh, and don't forget that Mother's Day is this Sunday. I'm giving my mother a shark tooth necklace from Hawaii. I know she's pushing seventy, but she's gonna' love it. After all, it has to be better than the Mother's Day when I was 5 and we filled the bathtub FULL of tadpoles from our pond. Hey, we were young farm boys, and we thought it would be the coolest Mother's Day present EVER. Well, so she didn't exactly LOVE it. On the bright side, she's finally able to talk about it without crying...

Non-Running blog

2005-05-02T08:39:00.000-05:00

Yes, I know... my blogging has been a bit running-centric lately. Sorry about that. It's just that the running passion is back, so that's been my focus lately. Well, I promise you that today's blog will be run-free. Well, mostly.

Yesterday was one of those "harsh realization" days. Admittedly, I've been slacking a bit in all aspects of my life lately. I realized that I need to seriously regain my focus on my health. I also realized that I need to be better at keeping in touch with my friends. Finally, I had the harsh realization that I'm turning into my parents. Not specifically one over the other, but both of them at the same time. Oh man, help me.

Proof that I'm turning into my father: I can't believe I'm telling you this, but since I decided to get super healthy again, we went shopping at SAM's. Yes, I know for the most part that store is on the evil side, but when you want mass quantities of health food, it's a pretty good deal, so cut me some slack. Well, while I was at SAM's, I bought... uh... hmm... well... I bought slacks. Yes, I bought slacks at SAM's. Proof that I'm turning into my father. *hangs head in shame*

Proof that I'm turning into my mother: Although I RARELY watch television, I heard that CBS was airing a movie last night called "Riding the Bus with My Sister". It starred Rosie O'Donnell as a mentally handicapped person, and basically was the story of her sister (Andi McDowell) coming to terms it. For those of you who don't know me personally, let me explain a few things.

1. My mother works with the mentally handicapped, so I grew up with a heavy influence of mentally handicapped people, almost as a part of the family.
2. I'm not terribly emotional. Before this past year, I probably cried a total of 10 times in my 33 year life. And that's being generous. I'm not dead on the inside, I'm just very much in control of my emotions. Plus, I'm the youngest of 8 Iowa farm boys. Boys don't cry.

So I'm watching this movie last night, which I must admit, wasn't even that acted all that well... but I'm bawling my head off for the entire two hours. To make matters worse, it was a "Hallmark Hall of Fame" movie, so the only time they interrupted the movie was roughly every fifteen minutes for... you guessed it... A SAPPY HALLMARK COMMERCIAL! That just made me cry more! Argh.

So last night while you all were watching Desperate Housewives, I was sitting at home crying like a desperate housewife. Oh man. Well, there you have it. I'm off to pay bills.

Treadmills

2005-04-30T18:42:00.000-05:00

Argh! I've just spent WAAAAY too long sitting in front of this computer trying to figure out how to publish more photos. I work in technology, yet I can't seem to figure out how to post one simple picture of me. Blah. I'll figure it out, hopefully in time to get some before and after photos of my fundraising head shaving. The good news is that money is already rolling in (thanks friends!) which means the bad news is that I definitely have to tell my mother about shaving my head. Eeek. Feel free to keep sending donations (checks made out to the American Cancer Society, of course). Y'all are awesome.

I love that all of you runners, bloggers, and quirky people are visiting my little site. Welcome. I love it too that all kinds of people are coming forward with their own OCD "quirks" which makes me feel a little more normal. OK, not really more NORMAL, but a little less alienated. So speaking of quirks, a suggestion was raised that I try treadmill running with people indoors. Oh man, I can't do it. To explain, I present you another list.

Mateo's list of why I don't like running on a treadmill.

1. I'm very outdoorsy. I would much rather be running on trails or even on the streets. When running, I prefer getting fresh air and seeing the beauty of nature over watching the Weather Channel. (Nothing against the good people at the Weather Channel, I just prefer to experience the weather, not simply watch it.)

2. I'm a spitter. I know it sounds gross, but I salivate a lot... especially when I run. So I have to spit a lot. A lot, a lot. One time, I forgot that I was indoors and almost spit on this poor girl running on the treadmill next to me. Yuck. I salivate so much that my dentist once suggested that I be in a saliva study. Weird.

3. I'm a toucher. If you've read this blog from the beginning, you know that I'm very tactile. I love to touch things. When I run, I actually NEED to touch things, especially when transitioning from walking to running. It comes from when I was fat and first started running. I used to run sprints "from this tree to that sign" and touch them both. Now, I need to touch things when I run. I even have my friends touching things. Tee hee hee.

4. I don't particularly like to know my exact speed and distance. Part of the fun of running is just that. RUNNING. Just getting out and doing it. Some days you're fast, some days you're slow. Some days you want to run 3 miles, some days you want to run 13.

5. My dog can't come to the gym with me. If I had to choose between running 5 miles on a treadmill with Katie Couric or running 5 miles outdoors with my pooch... well... sorry, Katie.

6. The cardio room in my gym is WAY too hot. It's as though they decided to combine the cardio room with the sauna. Although I lost a ton of weight, I'm still a fat man. Let me tell you, fat men sweat a LOT in the heat. Yuck.

7. I don't like to run around other gym people. I always think they're looking at me funny. Truth be told, they usually are looking at me funny because I'm always jamming out to my MP3 player. I can't help it, sometimes a man has to shake his groove thang.

8. There's no ice cream at the gym. Yes, I run a lot, and I eat a lot of ice cream. My eight mile loop actually includes a stop at the local Dairy Queen on the way home. Cherry dilly bars have become such a part of my running routine that I actually have a tab at the DQ. Yes, I do. Quit laughing. Seriously.

Well, that's enough reasons for now. There are more, of course. I have so many little running quirks. I'll tell you more later. I know you all have your running quirks, so let me know what they are. We can have a good laugh at ourselves together.

By the way, I have one of my favorite races tomorrow. It's only 9 miles, and it's a time prediction race, so the person who finishes closest to their predicted time wins. So even the slowest runners (like me) can win. Yippee! Plus, they always have the best post-race snacks and door prizes. I'm totally stoked. Maybe this time, I'll finally win that ham!

Run on, people.

Friday night

2005-04-29T20:30:00.000-05:00

I can't believe it's Friday night (rapidly approaching 9pm) and I'm sitting at home. LAME. I'm rarely at home on a Friday night. Argh. It's only because of this little thing called work, which keeps getting in the way. Granted, I love working from home, but when it hinders my social life, well, that's where I draw the line. So I cracked open a bottle of wine, and I'm taking a little break.

I don't have much to report - I'm still going to shave my head (the idea of a mohawk has been presented) if I can raise $2000 for the American Cancer Society. So far the news has been taken well, for the most part. Of course, I haven't told my mother yet... Looks like I'll probably tell her next week, when I return home for a visit. "Happy Mother's Day! I'm going to shave my head into a mohawk and dye it blue!" I'm guessing she won't exactly throw me a headshaving party. She might send a card, though. She's very proper that way. Oh well. Here I am, 33 years old, and still giving my poor mother heartburn. Good thing I have seven older brothers that prepped her for my craziness. By the time I came along, nothing ever seemed that bad. And if you really think about it, in the grand scheme of things, shaving your head for charity isn't that bad. So far, I've raised nearly $500 in a couple days. I think I should easily hit $2000.

Well, since I don't have tons to report, I will give you yet another "Three Things I've Learned Today" list. You know how I love my lists. It tweaks out my OCD. Here goes:

Three things I've Learned Today, The Triathlete Edition:

1. Even though triathlons are completed in the order of swim, bike, run; I just really hate to train in that order. Maybe it's because I don't like swimming, so I prefer to leave it to last, hoping that a tornado will destroy the gym during my biking and I won't actually have to swim. Maybe it's because I'm a Taylorist at heart, and swimming first means showering twice, which I find to be a complete waste of time.

2. Although I prefer to run alone, I almost always prefer to train with a friend. I've found it makes me work harder. Good thing my friend Matt is just as crazy as I am, and will meet me at the gym at any given time. (Although he's the purist who insists that we complete our training in the order of swim, bike, run).

3. IMPORTANT LESSON: If you're going to forget the code to your padlock, try to do it BEFORE showering at the gym. It's embarassing enough to ask the gym staff to cut the lock off your locker, but asking them while wearing only a towel... well, that just adds insult to injury.

Why me?

Another Shaving Project - ACS

2005-04-28T09:42:00.000-05:00

Well, I know how much y'all loved my shaving experiment, so I'm back with another... well... shaving "project". This time, I've combined it with my love of running. To give you some background, I must admit that I've been in a bit of a running rut lately. Well, I guess you could say I've been in somewhat of a "life rut" lately. Life's been pretty rough on me - emotionally, physically, and financially - so I've just been doing what it takes to get by.

I even lost my passion for running, which scares the holy bejammers out of me. Sure, I was still running, but I lost my focus. Some people run for a cardiovascular workout, some people run to lose weight, some people run just to show off their new running outfits. True (crazy) runners run because we love it. We run because we have to. It's just that simple. If I'm having a good day, I run. If I'm having a bad day, I run. If I'm having a mediocre day, I run. It's such a programmed part of me that I no longer think about it.

Well, sometimes you're so busy running that you lose sight of WHY you're running. You start running away from something, which is the worst reason to run. Luckily, I had a runner stop by this blogsite the other day (thanks, AB - you rock). I linked to her site, which linked to other runners blogs, and after hours of reading about other runner's passions and accomplishments... it was back. The fire was back. Thanks, running bloggers! I want to run again. I had no idea there was a whole running and blogging society out there. (This whole blogging is very new to me). So if you're reading this and want me to link you, just let me know. I welcome you into my e-home.

So enough touchy feely for one day. Here's the "Shaving Project". In a nutshell, I agreed to run the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life on June 17th. I've run it in the past, and it's just an amazing event. There is NOTHING cooler than when they light the luminarias at dusk and you're running by candlelight. Yes, running by candlelight. Amazing. Well, now that the running fire is back and burning bright, I really want to make a difference this year. A challenge has been brought forth, and for those of you who know me, you know that I'm a complete sucker for challenges. (That's how I ran my first marathon. My brother double dog dared me to run it with him!)

So the challenge/project is this. If I raise $2,000+ by June 17, 2005 for the American Cancer Society, I will shave my head. Bald. Bald, bald. Don't worry. I have plenty of hats. If you would like to make a tax deductible donation (even those of you who only know me electronically) just e-mail me for details at runner_in_iowa@yahoo.com.

It's also been brought to my attention that a counter attack has begun. It's the "Keep The Hair" campaign, started by some of my friends who claim they will be too embarrased to be seen in public with little ol' bald me. So I've agreed that every dollar towards the KTH campaign means I have to raise that much more for the SIO ("Shave It Off") campaign. I will keep you posted of each campaign's development. Together, we can knock the roof off this thing, and raise lots of cash for a great cause.

I just started both campaigns hours ago, and at the time of this posting, the results are:
Shave It Off: $300
Keep The Hair: $50

Oh, and Pope BXVI, if you're reading this blog, please bless my bald head. Thanks.

More OCD Revealed

2005-04-25T08:52:00.000-05:00

Fine, I have OCD. The ever famous Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. You realize that when I was born 33 years ago (before the "disorder" was named) you would have just called me quirky. Let's stick with that. I'm quirky. I personally hate the term "disorder", as it implies a person's total helplessness in a situation. "Oh, poor me! I have this disorder that I can't control. Pity me!" Blah, blah, blah... You're just fine. You're just quirky. We're all quirky. Get over your bad self.

Nonetheless, the fact that I recognize that I have a "disorder" and don't let it own me is doing pretty well. Most of my OCD revolves around fire, and the fear of my house/body/dog catching on fire. On one hand, it keeps me out of harm's way, which is a good thing. For example, it's the very reason why I can't sleep naked. (Sorry for bringing up the thought of me naked... I don't like to think about it either. Eeek!) Anyway, I know people who do sleep naked, but I'm deathly afraid my house is going to catch on fire in the middle of the night, and I'll have to run out of the house, screaming like a pre-teen girl on her way to a Backstreet Boys reunion concert. Don't you think it would be traumatic enough to stand outside in the street watching your house and everything your own burn to the ground without having the added humiliation of being completely naked in front of 30 local firefighters? Think about it, people. Until they invent a fireproof house, I'm just fine sleeping in my Joe Boxers, thanks.

Well, sometimes my "disorder" doesn't make as much sense. And sometimes it gets me into rather embarrasing situations. Case in point, I have this habit of checking the coffee pot to ensure it's turned off - three or four times before leaving the house to go to work. Many times, I just cave to my fears and just unplug the darn thing. Well, yesterday I made breakfast for some friends (which is somewhat of a weekend tradition - you should stop by sometime) and this is an actual coversation which occurred between my friend Patrick and me.

Me: "Oh, you're having more coffee?"
Patrick: "Yeah, I made another pot."
Me: "What? How did you make another pot? I unplugged it!"
Patrick: "Uh, I plugged it back in. I do have a college degree. Wow."
Me: "Oh, nevermind..."

So I guess this would be one of those times when your disorders are better left NOT shared with friends (and here I am talking about it to countless people on the Internet. Great). Oh well. Long story short, I guess I'm just telling you to embrace your quirkiness, laugh about it, and for love of all things good, unplug your coffee maker.

Seven AM

2005-04-18T07:23:00.000-05:00

Oh man, why am I awake so early? Oh right, my four-footed Alaskan Husky alarm clock woke me up with the crack of dawn. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him sleep in until 10:00. I suppose I could slip an Ambien in his puppy chow, but I fear it's effects on canines. What merely slows down our heart rate would probably stop his completely. Even though I love my experiments, that's an experiment I'll let someone else do. Granted, he's a total spaz, but I think I'll keep him around a while.

Just for the record, as I type right now, he's diligently ammassing an arsenal of dog toys in a growing pile behind me in the den. It's as though he heard there was a dog toy convention in town this week and he's trying to decide which one to bring to impress all the bitches. You can practically see the hamster spinning on his mental wheel. "Oh man, should I bring Mr. Sqeaky Pumpkin, my frizbee, or the rawhide bone? Oh, what am I thinking? Rawhide is SOOO 2004. Only Terriers would be caught dead with a rawhide bone..."

OK, the decision has been made. He's choosen his Giggle Stick. Hey you in the back of the room, I can hear you laughing. No double entendres here, people. It's too early. I didn't name it. His Giggle Stick is merely this rubber bone that bounces crazily all over when you play catch, and it's his favorite toy ever. Every time we play catch, he chases it around as though he's never seen it before.

So my dog isn't the brightest animal on the planet. Good thing he's so cute. He's like that blonde girl in high school who just barely passed math class by tossing her volumous hair around and giggling to all the nerdy boys to get them to cheat for her. Come on, like a beautiful girl like that would actually date any one of us... Uh, I mean, any one of them. (Michelle Williams, since we're all adults now, the nerds of the world forgive you.)

Yes, I know. There's no need to keep telling me. I'm still a nerd, and my dog is cute. Strangers tell me how beautiful he is all the time. Admittedly, it's a bit rough on my ego. He's the cute one, I'm simply the one holding the leash. Well, if it wasn't for me, he'd have been put to sleep. And come to think of it, if it wasn't for him, I'd still be sleeping.

Well, regardless, I'm awake. Since I have some time to kill, I suppose I should get running. Literally. This morning is perfect for a nice, long run. Sadly, it will be my last run as a 32 year old. Consider it my "XXXII Farewell Tour". You can buy commerative t-shirts at the concession stand.

Oh, and we'll see you at the dog toy convention. Whatever you do, don't bring a rawhide bone.

Photolog

2005-04-11T22:14:00.000-05:00

The Great White Squirrel Hunter attacking the cameraphone...

Check it out people! I finally figured out how to post a photo on this weblog. Granted, I'm sure you would rather see a better photo than a closeup of my dog's nose, but this is what you're getting. Life isn't fair, deal with it. For some reason, Loki is obsessed with my phone. Whenever I'm on the phone, he just goes crazy. Not Swiffer crazy, but crazy, nonetheless.

Not much for news here, sorry. I'm just trying to get my life in order after going on vacation. And by "getting my life in order", I mean spending way too much money on my dog buying him treats and toys to kill the guilt I have over leaving him with the dogsitter for a week. He was in excellent hands, but he still hardly ate the whole week I was gone. He's such a daddy's boy that it's rediculous.

Oh yeah, and to add insult to injury, I had to Swiffer the floors this weekend. The poor guy totally freaked out...

Aloha!

2005-04-09T14:56:00.000-05:00

Yes, I know. Long time, no blog. I've missed you too. By the way, I like what you've done with your hair. It looks nice.

So I'm back from the island of Maui (or as I prefer to call it - the island of Moolah, since it's so stinking expensive). To boot, we were staying in the city of Wailea, which is the most expensive area on Maui. They charged $5 for a bottle of Evian at the hotel. At one point, I think they were going to charge us fifty cents a minute for the air we were breathing, but luckily we were able to barter our way out of it. Who knew you could get all the fresh air you want in exchange for a goat? Anyway... the island was beautiful, the weather was beautiful, the wedding was beautiful, and the running was beautiful.

Well, of course the running was beautiful. Maui is great for running. I ran 6+ miles nearly every morning along the beach, and one day even competed in the Aluminum Man biathlon (1/2 mile swim and 4 mile run). The Aluminum Man is Hawaii's lesser known younger brother to Kona's Iron Man Triathlon. I was out for my morning run, and right after I passed the resort where Arnold Schwarzenegger was staying, I happened upon a man setting up the start/finish line for a race. By now, you're fairly familiar with my love of running and racing, so I don't need to tell you that I quickly asked the man how I could sign up. It turns out they were starting in about an hour and there wasn't even an entry fee.

A free race? In Hawaii? At this point, the thought of ANYTHING being free in Hawaii was heavenly, so I ran back to the hotel to get my friend Patrick. He's also a crazy runner like me who I thought would get a kick out of running it. Well, by the time I had run back to get Patrick and we got back to the race, I had racked up 9 miles of running, so the two of us opted out of the swim (I didn't have my Speedos with me anyway) and we just completed the four mile run. Regardless, we had a great time, met some really cool people, and walked away with some awesome door prizes. Who knew?

So I had a great time on vacation. I ran a lot, swam a lot, laughed a lot, and relaxed a lot. Oh yeah, I went to my first nude beach. It was surprisingly normal until one guy got out a hula hoop. No one should ever have to see that. Ever.

So enough about me. How have you been?

The Results

2005-03-27T23:07:00.000-06:00

Yes, you've waited long enough, and I've shaved bilaterally for long enough. I performed the final step of the test this weekend, which was asking 25 complete strangers to feel each side of my face to see which side was smoother. Well, the results are in, and the side of my face which I've been shaving with hair conditioner won in a LANDSLIDE vote of 21 to 4. The shaving cream side was not even close. So there you have it, Talyorism fans. As for me and my house, we're sticking to shaving with hair conditioner. At least until something better comes along. If you know of anything, let me know.

Additional findings from this weekend's experiment:

1. It's much easier to approach someone and ask them to feel your face than I thought it would be. Initially, I was terribly apprehensive, but after the first few people, it really wasn't that weird.

2. Of all reported occupations: Pharmacists are the most open to feeling a stranger's face.

3. As you might expect, women are much more willing than men to touch a male stranger's face.

4. In general, younger people are much more willing to touch a stranger's face than older people.

5. Most curiously passive-aggressive comment about the experiment (from a female respondent): "Well, I'll be sure to tell my FIANCE about that".

6. Asking someone to feel your face usually results in casual conversation about a person's general life status... sometimes resulting in an exchange of phone numbers.

7. Total phone numbers acquired during the experiment: 4.

8. Total number of dates arranged from said phone numbers: TBA. That will have to be another experiment to blog about. Stay tuned.

The big day

2005-03-25T07:23:00.000-06:00

Well kiddies... today is the big day. Yuppers. I'm going to do the shaving test. All of my hard work (and all of your anticipation) has come to this pinnacle moment. That having been said, this is going to be a super short blog (a mini-blog, if you will), as I still have to shower, shave, prepare my experiment, have breakfast, and still get to work by 9am. Translation: I just woke up - and quite frankly - am having issues even spelling this early. I'm not a morning person. Oh man, am I not a morning person.

So with great delight, I offer you a VERY SPECIAL "Three Things I've Learned Today - Loki Edition". (Yes, even my dog has insight to share with you!) Loki, take it away:

1. Loki learned that with enough cute stares and affectionate tail wagging, he can indeed score a small piece of whatever I am eating. He also learned that he loves heath crunch pie as much as I do. That's my boy.

2. Loki has learned that no matter how much he digs in the back yard, he can't quite dig his way to the earth's core. He's a trooper, though - he keeps digging, much to my frustration.

3. Loki learned how a snooze alarm works this morning. Subsequently, I learned how the "wet dog nose in the armpit" alarm works. Amazingly, it's the most effective way to date that wakes me up.

Wednesday Morning

2005-03-23T08:19:00.000-06:00

Well, it's been brought to my attention that more and more people are reading my blog. I'm not sure if it's because people are interested in the inner workings of a mind that is slightly askew, or if you're here for the free cookies. You can admit it, it won't hurt my feelings. Hey, I'm here for the cookies too.

Well, I just wanted to take a quick poll. If you are reading this blog right now, would you just be so kind as to raise your hand? Come on, please? Simon says. You don't have to raise it high, just high enough so I can see it. Oh, that's perfect, thanks. Wait a minute, is that a new watch? I love it. Very cool.

It's also been brought to my attention that since more and more of you are sharing my site with friends, there are people out there who want to know what I look like. Well, I haven't figured out how to post a photo yet. Yeah, I know all of the cool kids have pictures on their sites, but I'm just not that cool. Jeez. Stop hounding me. For now, a verbal description will have to suffice. Basically I look like Rupert Everett.

That is, if Rupert Everett was fat, Dutch, prematurely grey and had a smaller nose, bigger ears, and really long fingers.

Wait a minute... why is it whenever we describe ourselves to people, we always seem to focus on our negative aspects? I'm going to stop doing that. Right here, right now. I'm going to start focusing more on my positive aspects. I mean, I'm not the elephant boy, here! My self-esteem would have allowed me to get away with beating myself up like that three years ago when I was fat - REALLY FAT - but not now. No. No longer. For those of you who don't know me, I lost 110lbs three years ago - which is why I'm such an adamant runner and health nut today.

Yes, you read that correctly. I lost 110lbs. I lost Paris Hilton. (Oh, if only we could be so lucky to lose her!) I'll write more later on how I actually lost the weight, but I just want you to know that if there's something in your life that you want to change, you can do it. Seriously. Lose weight? Get healthy? Talk to that new officemate? Get a new job? Reconnect with old friends? Run a marathon? Come on people, if I can do it, you can do it. I am living proof that ordinary people can make extraordinary changes in their lives. And trust me, it's fun here.

So back to my positive aspects. Here goes. *takes big breath*

On any given day, I can look rather handsome (or so I've been told). I happen to like my hair today. And I like my eyes. And even though I can't seem to smile normally for a photo, I happen to like my smile. (Yeah, I'm not sure what's up with the photo thing, my smile always comes across as though I've just swallowed something sour). And although I'm no supermodel, I happen to like my body. If it can hold up after getting hit by a Toyota Camry and still run a marathon two months later, I'd say it's doing a pretty good job.

OK, enough touchy-feely for one day. I'm getting a little queasy, here. Time to change the subject. My shaving experiment is still rolling along... (If you're new to my neighborhood, check out blog Taylorism and Shaving for details). I PROMISE to report back this weekend. After all, I have to get you the results this weekend, as next week I leave for Hawaii for my best friend's wedding (yet another reference to Rupert Everett). I cannot WAIT to get to Hawaii, as I'm sure there will be a million crazy experiences, most of them will be rather blogworthy. I will try my best to find a computer for at least one island blog, "Mateo - The Fantasy Island Edition" if you will, but I'm not making any promises. If nothing else, I have a great memory, so you can expect many stories upon my return.

Well, I just wanted to send a quick thanks to everyone out there reading my blog. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. It's actually good therapy for me, oddly enough. I hope it inspires you to get healthier, but maybe it just makes you laugh. Either way, I hope it enhances your life. I'm glad you're here. Feel free to come back. You're cute.

Oh, and you can put your hand down, now. Simon says. Your arm must be incredibly sore...

Change of Plans

2005-03-20T23:04:00.000-06:00

Sorry gang, I didn't perform the experiment this weekend. Two reasons why:

1. I myself still can't tell a difference from one side of my face to the other. So, I'm adding another week of bilateral shaving in hopes to accentuate the difference.

2. I attended dinner parties on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights. Therefore I was always around people I know, negating the whole "asking 25 strangers to feel my face" thing. Why was I at dinner parties all weekend? Because I'm a rockstar in high demand. Duh.

Yes, I know you're disappointed. But look at it this way, by elongating the timeframe of the research, you have that much longer to anticipate the results. It will make the findings that much sweeter. If you can't wait that long, clearly you have Attention Deficit Disorder, so just chomp down a few more ritalin and chill out.

After all, this blogspot is about OCD, not ADD. Get your own blog, spaz.

Day Two

2005-03-15T22:18:00.000-06:00

Day two of my shaving experiment, and I have to tell you something, people. Still not seeing those big rewards I was expecting. I had a few friends do a test run (feeling each side of my face and trying to guess which was which). They were getting a bit pushy on wanting me to tell them. LET'S GET THIS PERFECTLY CLEAR, I'm not telling you which side I'm shaving with conditioner. I'm afraid it might leak out on the Internet and ruin my findings. So try all you want, my lips are sealed tighter than the Go-go's. It seems that more and more people are hearing about and discussing this little shaving experiment, which honestly kinda' freaks me out. I don't want to be 50 years old and have someone walk up to me and ask if I'm "That Guy Who Did That Shaving Experiment". I'm a bit more dimentional than that. Not much more, but a little.

So touch my face all you want, but don't be so pushy. Deal?

Sorry, I'm a bit on edge right now. To add to today's stress, Loki and I are fighting. My friend Tara mailed me some much saught after juice glasses; each with a clever drawing of different animal on them and their respective onomatopoeic call. (Yes, that's a big word. Look it up.) So anyway, there's one juice glass with a dog and the word "woof" on it. Well, Loki decided it was automatically his since he was the only resident here who spoke fluent canine. I told him that I wanted it and we got into a big fight. He thought I should take the glass with the pig on it, apparently implying that I'm a big pig-headed Dutchman. Dumb dog. He doesn't even drink juice, so he'd never use it anyway. The glass is mine.

Regardless, he's still staring at me. Argh.

Day One

2005-03-14T10:31:00.000-06:00

Granted, this is actually three days after I decided to embark on my scientific shaving experiment, but it's been a long weekend, and I haven't shaved until now. I was going for that rugged, "don't mess with me" look this weekend. Did it work? Clearly not, because you're still messing with me.

So this is the first day of my bilateral shaving, and I have to admit something. I can't really tell a huge difference from one side of my face to the other. I was expecting more drastic and more instantaneous results. Especially on the first day of the experiment. I was so excited on Friday to get this started. Both sides of my face feel so similar that I had to write down on a post-it note which side of my face I shaved with conditioner so I would remember for the rest of the week. (Sidebar: No matter how much you need to be reminded of something while showering, don't try to stick a post-it note in your actual shower, as all of the steam loosens it free from it's sticky grip, and then it just falls to the base of the shower and gets all wet.) Post-it note NUMBER TWO was quickly placed on the bathroom MIRROR.

Oh well, so you can't tell a huge difference today with my shaving. It's only day one. Perhaps tomorrow will harvest better results.

P.S. I'm eating Heath crunch pie for breakfast. I LOVE being 32 years old.

Taylorism and Shaving

2005-03-11T18:16:00.000-06:00

Ok, I know that half of you are out there scratching your heads thinking "what can Taylorism and shaving have in common?" (while the remaining half of you are out there scratching your heads thinking "What in the world is Taylorism?"). In a nutshell, Taylorism is the study and science of efficiency, named after Frederick Winslow Taylor. He wrote The Principles of Scientific Management in 1911, based on employee productivity, efficiency, abilities, incentive, blah, blah, blah. Long story short, he studied the process of attaining a desired result in the fewest steps possible, a concept which I love. The man is my hero.

I know I'm going ultra geek here (and totally losing some of you in the process), so I'll throw in a fun side note. Word on the street is that in his personal life, FWT was a complete nutjob, taking his "science" of efficiency far too seriously. I remember reading in college where he actually studied the most efficient way to dry his body (with the fewest number of towel passes) when he exited the shower. Oh come on, who doesn't do that? Am I the only one who does? Uh.. nevermind.

But it's the perfect segue to today's topic - cut to this morning as I'm getting out of the shower, preparing to shave. Horror of all horrors, I realize that I am COMPLETELY OUT OF SHAVING CREAM. There wasn't even the little bit at the end of the can that teases you as it spits out tiny shaving cream particles. Nothing. Empty can. Normally, this is where I would completely freak out and run to the nearest grocery store to buy more (hopefully remembering to put on some pants first), but instead I calmly searched my mental archives. I knew that something could be done in a time of crisis. Well, I recalled an article I read years ago that said if you run out of shaving cream, you can use hair conditioner as a "in time of need" replacement. I just knew all that reading would come in handy one day.

So I begin to slather conditioner on my beard (granted, it doesn't lather nearly as well as shaving cream, and we all know that most of the fun of shaving IS the lather) but it covers my stubble well enough, so I continue. You may not believe this, but as I begin to shave, it actually feels BETTER than shaving with shaving cream. It was fantastic. Upon finishing, my shave was closer and my skin felt smoother than ever before. I stood dumbfounded in front of the mirror, caressing my newly shaven jawline and smiling - oddly enough, exactly like all those men in the shaving commercials.

So this is where the Taylorism kicks in, and why I'm as giddy as a 14 year old geek on his way to a comic book convention. What if I can combine my hair conditioning and shaving into one giant step? I would no longer need to buy shaving cream - 1.) eliminating yet another step in my life and 2.) eliminating the senseless clutter of shaving cream cans. I could rely solely on my trusty bottle of conditioner. My mind races as I ponder the beauty of it all.

I know it sounds crazy. I think so too. So, before I can commit to such a major life change, I will need to do a test. A true, honest-to-goodness test. So here's what I'm thinking. I will, IN THE INTEREST OF SCIENCE, sacrifice myself and shave half of my face with conditioner, and the other half with shaving cream for the period of one week. After said timeperiod, I will randomly sample 25 complete strangers and ask them to feel both sides of my face as to which one they think is a better shave. Assuming I don't get clobbered to death by said 25 complete strangers, I'll be back to you in a week with the results. Keep your fingers crossed, and stay tuned, Taylorism fans...

No time to blog

2005-03-10T19:05:00.000-06:00

Sorry kids, I don't have much time here to blog (I know you're disappointed, I can hear the whimpering. Buck up campers). So, to appease you, I'm going to throw out yet another "Three Things I've Learned Today" list. Yes, I love lists. It's part of my OCD. Get over it.

THREE THINGS I'VE LEARNED TODAY:

1. My dog doesn't like mushrooms. Unfortunately, I discovered this because I stepped on the chewed up remains of a mushroom which I THOUGHT he had eaten. Trust me, a mushroom squishing between your toes is NOT a pleasant sensation.

2. Always remember to set the timer when baking a pizza. I check the oven to make sure it's turned off three or four times when I leave for work, yet I can't seem to remember to turn on the darn timer when I actually place something IN the oven. For the second time in a week, I've had a kitchen fire mishap. Yes, the smoke alarms went off again. Sigh. I think it's a sign from God telling me to stay out of the kitchen.

3. These pants don't look as good on me as I thought they did.

Can someone please tell my dog to stop staring at me?

2005-03-09T22:14:00.000-06:00

I keep telling him to stop staring, but he won't. Maybe it's because I'm sitting here enjoying a big bowl of chocolate mint ice cream. OK, truth be told, it's a bowl of low-fat, sugar free mint chocolate ice cream with Girl Scout "thin mints" crumbled in it for more texture, as I'm a very tactile eater. I like my foods to be a certain texture or consistency. Not sure where it all started, but it's a bad habit I can't seem to break. OK, one of the many bad habits I can't seem to break.

For instance, when I put ketchup on a sandwich, I need to let it soak into the bun for roughly ten minutes while I eat my french fries so that the ketchup is a nice, thick and pasty consistency. Now my friends think this is yet another OCD quirk of mine, but in all honesty, it's just a preference. It's more of a thinly veiled attempt to cover one of my true OCD quirks, which is the fact that I can't eat more than one food at a time. I'm actually soaking the sandwich to buy time so that I can eat all my fries before eating the sandwich. I know, I'm so clever.

Yes, I know what you're thinking. I'm one of THOSE people. Now, before you get all finger-pointy on me, I realize that eating one food at a time is crazy. I'm working on it, because I realize that I'm no longer nine years old, and an adult being so finicky over food is just silly. But when I was a kid, my mother had this habit of mixing all of the left over food on your plate and making you eat it together, as "it all ends up in the same place anyway". While scientifically this is true, there's no scientific research that has ever proven a need for orange jello, potatoes, pork and lettuce to EVER be on the same fork.

So my rebellion (albeit a lame rebellion at that) has been to systematically eat all of my foods one at a time. So make fun of me. I don't care. If you really want to make fun of me, just ask me about the summer where I was afraid my car was going to overheat and blow up on me. After being reassured for the fifth time by my mechanic that everything was fine and that (mind you, these were his exact words) , I needed to "quit freaking out because my car was NOT going to blow up", I finally took care of the problem. I bought an SUV.

So in the meantime, I love my SUV and I've very much enjoyed my mint chocolate ice cream with the Girl Scout thin mints crumbled in it. God bless all those little girls for slaving over hot stoves across the country for our enjoyment at three dollars a box. Don't we have child labor laws? We're not living in China, people. Oh, and my dog is still staring at me. Jeez. Stop it!

I'm baaaaaaack!

2005-03-07T22:35:00.000-06:00

Ok, so here's the deal. I finally had it with my computer, so I did the unthinkable. Man vs. Machine in a World Series Death Match. I'm happy to report that in this instance anyway, man was victorious. Loki got a bit frightened there for a minute, but he was fine once my screaming slowed to a whimper. I completely reformatted the hard drive and started from scratch. So I've reinstalled Windows '98, so at least my PC is working. And by working, I mean that it's up and running on it's most basic level. The previous drivers are all missing, so the display remotely resembles my archaic computer that I had in 6th grade - yes, the ever popular - yet completely unheardof - Commodore 64.

Mom, if you're reading this, "drivers" are the things that make the computer work - I'm not referring Morgan Freeman. Also - if you're reading this - and I mean this in the most lovingly appreciative way possible... but... hindsight being 20/20, we probably shouldn't have bought my first computer from a Christian bookstore. They specialize in converting the non-believers, not converting hard-drives. Even though Jesus may have blessed my beloved Commodore 64, that didn't seem to help them from going out of business 18 months later. Regardless, just in case I never thanked you properly (which I probably didn't, because after all, I was only eleven), thanks for buying me a computer. Who knew that twenty years later, I'd actually be working in computers? Seems kind of silly that we spent $50,000 on that little French degree, doesn't it?

Wait a minute, Mom... now that I think about it (yes, I'm changing the subject so that you forget about how much we spent on my college tuition) - if you're reading this, I'm incredibly impressed that you traversed the Internet Superhighway and found your way to your son's blog. Kudos, woman. Well, since I have your attention, I suppose I'll give you a little tribute. You always taught me to try and better myself with education, and do my best to learn something new every day. Well, here is an abbrieviated list of what your son has learned today.

1. I still don't like computers, even though they pay my mortgage.
2. They say that time heals all wounds, but you still need to wait more than six months to return to eating bananas after throwing them up while marathon training.
3. All of my smoke detectors work. (Don't ask, it's a REALLY long story. I had a little accident cooking dinner. The house is fine, it just kind of smells like a New York City taxi cab caught fire in here. Loki and I are fine too. After all, hair grows back.)

I guess that's really all I've learned today.

Aren't you proud of me, Mom?

I love my life

2005-03-06T22:27:00.000-06:00

I love my life. It's computers I hate. Sure, I work in computers, but yet I can't even get my home PC to work correctly. I mean, seriously. That's the reason that I haven't posted out here in weeks. I'm sitting here, yet again reloading Windows '98 on my home PC for the 28 bajillionth time, and it's still not working.

Apparently, I thought I knew computers better than I know how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Well, turns out I forgot the cardinal rule about computers. DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES go all willy-nilly deleting files. I just passed my MicroSoft XP exam (with a very high score if I may be so braggart) so I thought I knew my way around this technological maze. Well, like a mouse in search of cheese, I started my seek and destroy crusade to delete files that looked suspicious. Turns out, that was a pretty stupid plan. I clearly deleted something important, and now my PC won't boot. Not at all. It's pretty much worthless. My fifteen cent polyester pants are worth more right now.

Which is why I run. I hate computers. I hate technology. If it were up to me, we'd all live in log cabins, making sm'ores at our fireplaces. We'd have to rely on the earth for our food, not the local Wal-Mart supercenter. (Which by the way, I visited recently. Wal-Mart is a complete mystery to me. I'll get into that later.) I run to get back to nature, and to escape this "paradise" of concrete and steel that we've created. We go to our desks and sit in front of a computer all day, only to come home and sit in front of one all evening long to check our e-mail and see our favorite sports highlights.

Doesn't make sense to me. Paradise to me is running in the middle of nowhere, not knowing where you're going or when you'll finish. Some of the best running is when you just head out for a "mystery run". In the middle of nowhere, you can truly escape the madness of technology. Well, that is, if you can leave your MP3 player at home. I know, I can't either. So yes, I hate technology and have to embrace it at the same time. Argh.

So while my computer sits idly in the corner, in the meantime, I'll stick to running and perfecting my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

My favorite pants

2005-02-18T18:18:00.000-06:00

Let's get a few things straight. I'm a runner, I'm Dutch, and I'm cheap. I'm not saying that any of these three things are related, I'm just putting my cards out on the table for those of you who don't know me personally. So make fun of me all you want, but no cracks about how Dutch people are cheap, or I'll make fun of the fact that you use FAR too much hair care product. Uh, yes you do, admit it. Don't try to hide.

So anyway, I have to tell you about one of my favorite experiences, merely because it involves two of the three factors that I've listed above - that I'm a runner and I'm cheap. The fact that I'm Dutch is inconsequential in this particular story. Don't fret, surely it will come up in future blogs. Be patient. So one particular Saturday, I was to attend a housewarming party for a friend. Said friend (let's call him Pierre) wanted to make the party special, so he hosted a retro "prom" theme. Cool enough, I thought. Luckily for me, my favorite store is the Salvation Army (I told you I was cheap - I'm not kidding here people), so I had plenty of butterfly collar retro shirts for the party. Unfortunately, when perusing my closet - horror of all horrors - I had not one pair of polyester pants. Eeek.

Thus begins my trek. Since it was a nice winter day out (read: above 20 degrees), I decided to run to the nearest Salvation Army to buy a pair of pants. And I mean that. I literally ran there. It's only three miles from my house. It's my favorite Salvation Army in town, and they always have the best selection. Yes, I know what you're thinking, but just try to look past the fact that most of the clothing comes from the closets of people who have recently passed away. Yes, I'm wearing a dead man's shirt. Get over it.

So I make it to the Salvation Army (admittedly a bit sweaty and smelly), and there's nothing. The party is hours away, and I have no polyester pants. I was getting so desperate that I would have offered to by the pants off the old man working the counter, if only they were polyester. Faced with this excrutiatingly polyester-free dilemma, I decide to run another two miles to yet another Salvation Army. I arrive and frantically start searching the men's slacks section. As if a gift from God himself, there they are. The most beautiful burnt sienna polyester pants you've ever seen. They matched my pre-selected shirt and jacket perfectly. Well, I couldn't try them on (as by now I had run 6 miles and was far too sweaty) so I trumphantly bring them to the counter.

As if by another gift from God, the woman at the counter rings them up, and says, "That will be twenty five cents". WHAT? HUH? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? TWENTY FIVE CENT PANTS? Apparently it was "yellow dot day", where everything with a yellow dot was only a quarter. I was happier than a hippie at a deadhead concert. I proudly slide my quarter over the counter to her and run my six miles home, with little time to spare.

I get home and promptly jump into a muchly needed shower, then begin to get dressed for the party. I didn't care that I didn't have enough time to properly wash them, and I didn't care that they were about four inches too short in the inseam. They fit, they matched, and they were polyester. So, as I'm just about on my way out the door, I go to put my keys in my pocket, and as I reach in... Fasten your seatbelts... Get ready... THERE WAS A DIME IN THE POCKET! It was like a rebate from beyond the grave. A dead man left me a dime. BETTER YET, I WAS WEARING FIFTEEN CENT PANTS! I was in heaven. Pure heaven.

I'm so proud of my fifteen cent pants. They're so hideous that I never wear them, but I tell everyone I know about them. Oh yeah, Pierre's party was fun, too. The end.

I learned it by watching you!

2005-02-17T08:44:00.000-06:00

OK, I'm not sure which came first here... the chicken or the egg. More specifically, I'm not sure if I've become more neurotic since I've gotten my dog, or if he's more neurotic for having gotten me. First of all, let me say this; my dog is broken. I mean it. Broken. If he were a Tonka truck, I'd probably take him back to the nearest Toys R Us. But he's my boy, and I love him - neuroses and all. For any of you that don't know me (or know my dog) Loki is a pure white Alaskan Husky with crystalline blue eyes. His eyes are beautiful, but with beauty comes consequence, such as his horrible cataracts. They don't seem to bother him that much, except for his night driving. So much for my designated driver.

Oh, enough about his eyes and more about his nuroses. So I got him from the local Humane Society (which I highly recommend you support) and I'm guessing he was rather abused in his "past life". I can't say for certain, but it might explain why he thinks the lawnmower is a "toy" while he's scared to death of the Swiffer. It doesn't make sense to me. He wants to play with the tool that will chop him into bite-sized morsels, but he runs screaming from the tool that cleans up his hairballs. (By the way, he really doesn't run "screaming", but he does run to the den and hide whenever the Swiffer rears it's ugly demon head).

So his latest quirk is this. He constantly has to smell my breath. I'm not sure why, but whenever I get home from work or let him in and out of the yard, he has to smell my breath. I guess it's like a retina scan for dogs. He will stand at the gate and won't let me enter until he smells my breath. "You aren't allowed to come into this yard until I have an olfactory confirmation that you are my master - now breathe, human". I don't know. I guess I should be happy that he's not sniffing my crotch like most other dogs. My only concern is that some days (like today) I have to have the worst coffee breath known to man. I don't want to injure my dog with my stanky breath. What if I do long term damage? What if he begins to twitch at the near mention of Starbucks? What if one day he runs screaming from me like I'm a giant Swiffer?

Hmmm...

2005-02-16T08:53:00.000-06:00

2.16.05 - I'm not exactly sure what to put out here. I'm not really an official blogger, I'm not really much of anything. Just a goofball with high blood pressure who likes to run and eat ice cream. Oh, and as you can tell from the title, I have a touch of OCD. Just a touch, as my friends will happily tell you. I think the fact that I realize I have a problem and I don't let it own me is a pretty good first step. I freak out if there is any snow on my driveway during the winter, but my bathroom is dirtier than an interstate truckstop. And yes, I separate my M&M's into colors and then eat them in prime numbered groupings. Get over it. Love me, love my nuroses. If you come over to visit, don't leave my milk carton sitting out on the counter. I will freak out and probably have to pour it down the drain, but not after beating you with a wooden spoon. And don't be a clown. Not like a "goofy person who clowns around" clown... I mean, don't be a real clown. I have a paralyzing fear of clowns.

My friends created this blog site for me, hoping that they could read the inner workings of my mind. Well, unfortunately, the internet is only as true as you believe, so believe what you will about this. Consider this blog like a Lifetime made for TV movie starring Judith Light. It's only based in reality. Actually, that's a lot like my life - only based in reality. Most of this blog will be true with the occassional embellishment (or more than occasional depending on my mood).

Well, I gotta' go.

Testing this Out

2005-02-16T08:31:00.000-06:00

Just testing this out to see how it works.