For the love of fuck, I just can’t seem to jump start my brain into conjuring up anything funny, creative, meaningful, stupid, or even mediocre, to write lately.
I’ve scrapped numerous shitty blog posts that I’d started because if the words don’t start to come to me immediately, then I know I’m forcing something that won’t be fun and that never turns out well for any of us. This is supposed to be an entertaining release for me whenever I get the urge, but gosh darnit, all you fun people out there who read this crap and comment with me have made me miss your interaction.
Speaking of crap, Todd and Margo of Miracle of 2011 fame invited us to their lake house with them last weekend. By invited I mean that I’ve been hounding him for two years to take us to the lake, and by their lake house, I mean that his mother let him use her lake house.
During the course of what couldn’t have been much more than 40 hours, I think I managed to cram a case of Bud Light Lime down my gullet along with nearly an entire bag of Doritos and several other not so nutritious items of crap such as four pancakes the size of hubcaps and all the breakfast accompanyments a man could want at my new favorite breakfast joint. We hit that joint twice it was so good. Even Margo forced herself to eat a couple of chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. Of course, she didn’t drink a single drop of alcohol all weekend or abuse her body with the other crap that the rest of us did, so I guess she wins. Plus I think she ran about six miles the next morning to burn those naughty pancake calories off.
The speaking of crap segue was meant to be a reference to a funny story I was going to tell about when we took the boat out, but I can’t figure out how to tell it to do it proper justice. The boat apparently has a portal where piss is stored (only piss since there’s a no #2 rule on the boat) and it was about 3/4 full. At some point in previous weeks, Todd and Margo’s darling little three year old niece violated the no #2 rule because, when a three year old has to go, she has to go! Anyway, the theory, well, our theory, was that somehow these little turds chemically combined with the gallons of piss already in the boat and created a perfect storm of funk. When we finally got ourselves situated in a cove to swim and drink in, every so often a godawful smell would make it’s way into our olfactory glands. I mean it was fucking putrid! My sense of smell is horrendous, so for me to smell it, it was bad. My wife can sniff shit out like a blood hound, so it had to be much worse for her. At first, we thought one of the houses in the cove must have had a septic tank issue, but no, eventually it became clear that we were floating around the SS Shitstank and were causing the unpleasantness. There’s nothing like floating on a noodle and drinking beer, so a little intermittent, violent violating of the ole nose wasn’t enough to ruin my good time fun.
Add this weekend to the ridiculous feeding frenzy I enjoyed on my family vacation, and I was feeling like a bloated piece of whale turd come Sunday night. I was at my heaviest weight ever, I’m positive.
Margo must have been less than impressed by having had to see my exposed upper half as I frolicked in the lake, because on the same Sunday we returned from the lake, she sent me a text that I should join her in another 1/2 marathon soon.
…………………………………………what? Are you serious?
It was one thing the first time when I was in my 30’s and running for my pride. I mean, come one, I had to show her and Todd that I could do it back then, right? Well I did, and my feet have been bothering me ever since!
Still, like a dumbass, I ran it by Wife and she also thought it was a fine idea. What the fuck, dear? I thought for sure she’d tell me I was an idiot for even thinking about doing it again. I think the ladies conspired to somehow trick me into losing weight.
So yes, I am going to TRY to train for and run a half marathon in October. I didn’t want to throw it out here because there doesn’t seem to be any realistic way that this is going to happen because, did I mention that my feet are really sore at me for trying this? When I did this in 2011, I was certainly in better shape after the race than when I started the training, but I didn’t lose as much weight as I’d thought I would. Much of that was due to the fact that I didn’t change my diet at all (I figured I was running so I could eat whatever I wanted to, right) and I drank beer pretty frequently. Not as frequently as I had been, but still too much for a man in training.
This time, I’m going to try to eat a bit better and cut back drastically on the beer consumption. I’m not quitting the beer, mind you, but I’ll maybe keep it to less than 10 a week. That sounds pretty easy, right? Well, I could drink 10 Bud Light Limes before the Cardinals have to call in the first relief pitcher during a Jake Westbrook started ballgame. It’s not unusual for me to go through twice that in a week recently, and that’s way too much booze.
Thus far, I’ve taken to drinking protein shakes instead of skipping breakfast and started my running regimen by getting in a four and a three mile run this week already. I didn’t feel too bad I guess after either run. I haven’t had any beer since Saturday at the lake, and I’m eating much better than I was. I’ve already lost the weight I’d put on during my vacation/lake food and booze orgy, plus a couple that were there even before that.
I think with some patience, if I stick to what I’ve been doing, I’ll lose some weight eventually. I’m not built to be fat, so I think my body will cooperate. Once I lose some weight, then running should be easier on my feet, right? It’ll all be downhill after that I’m sure.
I know, whatever Don. Hey, it’s worth a try.
