Monday, May 30, 2011

"Ying Yang Tramp Stamp" Week Ending 5/29



The weather has finally turned and everyone has lost their damn minds. Women are drunk and bikini'd all over the place and the world seems like a place where "hope" isn't just a stupid name for a girl...it's the stupid name for a drunk and bikini'd girl. Which is great.

The entire holiday weekend was spent wearing as little as possible (I found most of my clothes this morning on the beach) and drinking heavily...AND respecting the hell out of veterans.

Father and I finally borrowed some kayaks and took the river down from the bar and out into the lake. The only silver lining to the insane amount of precipitation we've had this winter/spring is that the river is at an all-time high and it's now not only possible to get drunk at Trapperz ("z" intentional) but then kayak home at surprising velocity.

A tornado knocked out our power for the past 36 hours, which made the kayak even better somehow. Everything was very still and silent. Serene. Bucolic. I was actually a little bummed when the power came back. My cellphone had died, internet was out, no TV, etc. It was righteous. Fuck power.

57 miles on the week. It's been hard to find time to run, as I've worked 70+ hours/week for the past 5 weeks and it's really really really really starting to wear me down. However, there is a light at the end of the tunnel as this week I will wrap up my first year teaching...and then will just have the bike shop for work during the summer. Gravy.

I'm looking forward to the end of this week, getting more focused on running again and (hopefully) riding my bike a bit more.

I've eaten nothing but cheeseburgers, fried stuff and beer all day. I feel so good that I can barely believe it.

If you are reading this, I hope that you, too, are feeling so good that you can barely believe it.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

"Toasty" Week ending 5/22/11

Having survived/been skipped over during the Rapture, I guess I'm just either going back to whatever I was doing or I'm zipping straight ahead into the hungry flames of damnation.

Either way: beer tastes so good and I'm feeling so right. Music, Maestro...



Sunday finally lived up to it's moniker and I've got the crisp shoulders to prove it. Thank the Lord...

...yeah, too late, but you can't blame a guy for trying.


Nice threshold run at low 6's this week (last mile at 5:50) and some welcome progress to the weird numbness/ache in the ball of my left foot.

Monday, May 16, 2011

"Abiding..." Week Ending 5/15/11






I can't recall from my philosophy courses what the current stance is on the separation of mind and body (I think we're pretty solid on "none," but whatevuh..." The point is: I'm not sure if there's much literature on the mind/mind/body division(s). Anyway...

After several weeks of not listening to my body, my body finally sat me down for a little chat at the dinner table.

"Hey, asshole. I'm tired and I've been trying to tell you but you aren't listening."

At first I thought he was addressing my Asshole, but I quickly realized by his/my angry face that he was talking to me/it. Before I had a chance to respond, my Brain came down from taking a bath, wrapped in a silk kimono (is there any other kind?) and jumped RIGHT ON MY DAMN CASE, TOO!

"Yeah, I wasn't going to bring this up but since Body already broached the topic...I'm also tired. I've been trying to tell you about Body's issues, not to mention my own problems, but you just won't listen!"

Well, I was pretty fucking perplexed. I mean, who am I if I'm sitting at the table talking with BOTH my body and my mind?? WHOA!

I was not surprised, however, that both of them are whiny and soft (especially Brain).

Long story short and short runs shorter, this past week was a bit of a bust running-wise. No big deal, 'cause as those fuckin' Eagles so succinctly put it:

Ooh, I want to tell you, it's a long run
You know I don't understand why you don't
treat yourself better
do the crazy things that you do
'Cause all the debutantes in Houston, baby,
couldn't hold a candle to you

...or something.

Listen, man, I had a rough night and I fucking HATE the Houston debutantes, man!



Abide, dudes...and abide hard,

-Patrick