Consarned Newfangled Doohickeys!

I am not an anti-Dentite. Really, I'm not.

But I am not one of those people who loves having sharp metal implements poking around my bicuspids, either. I value my checkups and cleanings because I do want to take care of my oral health...but dentist appointments rank somewhere behind "snaking out hair-clogged drains" and "cleaning the toilets" in my list of favorite things to do. (They're still way ahead of "paying taxes" and "listening to the BeeGees", but that's not saying much.)

I do look forward to getting the new toothbrush and the free sample size Colgate tube they give out after they've scraped and picked and X-rayed me to their satisfaction. But here's my question: What's up with these new toothbrush designs?

Toothbrushes used to be straight and unembellished pieces of plastic, with some bristles sticking out at one end. They were perfectly functional, and served multiple generations with honor and success. But lately, it seems that toothbrush designers have gotten it into their heads that they're the Frank Lloyd Wrights of personal hygiene. This photo is of my latest Dentist-provided tooth-cleaning tool; and I have to admit that it's very stylish and elegant from an aesthetic standpoint. Its swanlike curves are graceful, and the green rubber adornments evoke healthful thoughts of citrus fruits and avocados.

But it's hideously uncomfortable to hold! You can't really tell from the photo, but the handle is triangular! Can someone please tell me how holding a triangle is supposed to enhance your teeth-brushing experience? My personal observation is that it does NOT!

If I have any cavities at my next checkup, I shall totally blame the drug-addled hippie who designed this brush, and there will be consequences. I already have Frank Azar's number programmed into my speed dial.

The good news is that my last curvy-weird toothbrush seems to have done the job...other than slightly elevated cholesterol numbers and a wicked paper cut on my right index finger, I seem to be in perfect health: No new cavities, robust gum tissue, and a license to smile.

Anyway, the other piece of newfangledness I experienced at my appointment was the use of an ultrasonic water spray to loosen up the plaque before they went in with the pulaski ax. The hygienist said it was similar to using a Water-Pik...which made me wonder why those devices seem to have disappeared completely. Does anybody still have one? I thought they were pretty cool -- and have no idea why you no longer see them advertised. Any clues?

And of course, thinking about Water-Piks got me thinking about my previous history with dentists and dental procedures. The highlights include the amusing tales of my odd behavior after sedation for wisdom teeth removal (something about swimming along the floor in King Soopers) and being too numb to laugh properly all the way through a comic movie I saw immediately after getting some fillings done.

The lowlights are...all those fillings. I'm ashamed to say that I didn't do a very good job with brushing and flossing as a youth, and got my head filled with quite a bit of inorganic structural material as a result. Most of my metal has since been replaced with much more attractive ceramics, but it's still not as good as if I'd have kept my original enamel. I wish I could go back in time and incorporate my current oral care habits from the beginning.

Which brings up another question: If you could get a do-over, what would you change about your life? Oh, I'm not talking about buying Microsoft and Apple stock at their low points, or manipulating peanut futures to keep Jimmy Carter out of politics -- those are too obvious and too generic. I'm talking about personal decisions; things you had actually thought about doing one way, but opted for another.

For example, when DuaneR (my favorite swim meet starter, and valued family friend) was offered an investment opportunity with the Carney brothers, he turned it down. He said "Pizza Hut? Nobody is going to eat at a place called Pizza Hut! I don't want to own any of that!" It turns out that he might have regretted that decision. When Joe Fellers and I gave our buddy Harp a prepaid plane ticket so he could leave town instead of getting married, he declined...which turned out to be a very bad move.

I probably should have asked out one of the smart girls in high school, instead of being obsessed with cheerleaders. (In the interest of truth, I guess I should also admit that I didn't ask out any cheerleaders, either. But I might have actually had a chance with one of the brainiacs, who all probably turned out more successful anyway.) I should've ignored the hack creative writing teacher who told me my stories sucked, and after graduation, I should've tried a little harder to get a job I wanted before settling for the one I took. And absolutely FOR SURE, I should've kept my copy of the Amazing Fantasy comic book that introduced Spiderman. Sigh.

Oh well. Those other choices are interesting to think about, and could probably spark a novel or two about alternate universes. But since we can't actually change our pasts, I guess the proper thing for me to do is to be thankful for the wisdom gained from those bad choices, and to be glad that from now on I will always make the correct decision in every single circumstance. Right?

Oh, and speaking of newfangled doohickeys...the front desk at 24-Hour Fitness has done away with membership cards, and is verifying memberships strictly though bioscan technology. You type in your phone number, squash your finger down on a laser sensor, and smile back at the desk clerk when she says "Have a good workout, Terry!" It's pretty cool, but the last time I went in, the stupid scanner wouldn't recognize my fingerprint. I tried it again, but the red light kept blinking. "Dagnabit", says I, "what in tarnation is wrong wif this-here fancy finger-readin' light box?"

I was about to attempt a third scan when I happened to look at my hand. Ah, yes...I had forgotten about my paper cut, and the bandaid I had used to hold Neosporin on it. My fingerprints were completely obscured by the plastic. D'oh!

It's funny how most technological problems come down to "operator error", isn't it? Any typos you might discover in this blog are definitely due to computer glitches, but for any other problems you run into, we can probably blame a human being somewhere. And someday he'll be regretting his past and saying to himself "Wow. I shoulda designed that toothbrush with a handle that's comfortable to hold."

It'll happen. Until then, just keep making good decisions, and have a great day!

Yeti Chase

It was one of those days when having fur seemed like a pretty good evolutionary development.

I was wearing tights, compression socks, two shirts, gloves, an earband, and a hat. I ended up taking the gloves off at about the 2-mile mark, and wore them tucked into my hydration belt for the rest of the race. Temperature-wise, I was comfortable enough during the run.

But before and after the race: Brrrr! It was in the mid-20s and windy, and not at all the kind of day where you want to just stand around and wait. Plus, I tend to need to pee more frequently when I'm chilled, so I was frustrated by the long lines for the porta-potties. Once the race started, though, everything was fine. (Except for my fitness...but we'll get to that.)

It was called the "Yeti Chase", though I don't think the Yeti actually ran the race. (He was mostly posing for photos and eating unattended children, etc.) You could choose either a 5K or 10K, and for some reason I had opted for the 10K.

It's all part of my "2012 Self Improvement Project". I have committed to competing more often and trying to socialize more...and this race presented opportunities for both. It was at Bear Creek Lake Park, which is close to home and familiar, and it was on a weekend where I had nothing else scheduled. Unfortunately, the socializing part was inhibited by the limited parking and cold temperatures. Since the starting line was not near your car, you couldn't mill around the start area in warm clothing and then shed your extra layers at the last minute.

I started near the back of the pack. In the last race I ran, I only beat two people -- a lady pushing a stroller, and someone who looked like the pre-Subway Jared -- so I figured I'd be one of the stragglers in this race, too. But because of the cold, I had actually run a bit to warm up, and felt pretty good once the race was underway. I'm guessing that I passed at least 100 people in the first two miles, and was on a pace to have a very good race.

Alas, those first two miles were deceptive. The pace I was so happy with was definitely the result of a gradual downhill grade. We had started at the swim beach, then ran north past the park entrance and down the straight road that leads up to the boating area (the lowest point in the park). I love to ride that stretch on my bicycle, because there's never any traffic and you can go aero and put the hammer down. It turned out to be an enjoyable section to run, as well.

But then the course turned uphill as we approached the dam, and this is where my lessons began. Lesson 1: I need to do more hill training. Lesson 2: I need to do more training in general. Lesson 3: I'd probably be less of a social outcast if I didn't wheeze and gasp like Orson Welles climbing Mt. Everest. Most of the people I had passed in the first two miles scampered merrily by me, as my strides got shorter and shorter while my feet got heavier and heavier.

It's bad when you're already reassessing your entire training program 1/3 of the way through your first competition. But that's what I was doing. In hindsight, I'm very pleased that I spent those next agonizing miles thinking about how to improve my capabilities, rather than contemplating retirement from the sport. But there is no doubt I can do better, and I am committed to doing so.

As you expect as the race progresses, the pack thinned out, and fewer people passed me in the last two miles. In fact, I think from about mile 5 to mile 6, there may have been only one or two folks who came around from behind. And there was a woman in front who seemed to be slowing down, so I began to think about how I might be able to slowly reel her in and then sprint past her at the end.

But no, she didn't slow down any further, and I didn't gain on her at all. Still, I thought I should be able to maintain my position for the last two tenths of a mile. I glanced over my shoulder at the 6-mile marker, and didn't see anyone within striking distance.

Lesson 4: I need to finish stronger.

I tried to speed up in the last several hundred yards, but at least a dozen more people went past me -- and a handful of those were within the finish chute. I didn't know where they had come from, and there wasn't a thing I could do about it. This is distressing: I used to be known for strong finishes...in fact, our old swim team slogan "We're Tough From the Flags In" was partly inspired by the fact that I always seemed to have that final burst of speed available. But not today, boss. Not today.

(OK, Lesson 4 is probably just a rephrasing of Lesson 2, but I'm still going to put it on my next motivational poster anyway.)

The good news is that I didn't injure myself. In fact, I felt like I held my form reasonably well even though I was slow. I'm sure no one mistook me for a real runner, but no one tried to escort me to the medical tent, either. I finished the entire 10K without walking, and did obtain a benchmark for assessing my fitness and speed at this point in the season.

Now I just need to incorporate my lessons into my training plan, and determine what my next competition will be. As soon as I figure that out, I will be sure to let you know. As always, my dear friends, I thank you for your continued support and encouragement. Have a great day!

Ow and Wow!

Random observations today. The first is that I've had to reassess my target weight goal. For the last few years, I've had it in my head that I'd be at my ideal competition weight if I could get down to 175 pounds. Well, I'm there, and am still not quite as svelt as I was when this photo was taken.

Do you recognize me? When I look at these old pictures, it's hard for me to understand why I didn't have a girlfriend.

Oh yeah...the nerd thing. Right. Thanks for reminding me. Geez.

Anyway, the point is that I'm never going to restore myself to my high school weight, and that's OK. I've put on some muscle since then, and I don't want to lose that. (I no longer have the hair, and that probably accounts for a couple of pounds, but I still think my proper weight is two stone higher than it was when I received my diploma.) I have joined Jim Murphy's "Fat Losers Club", and will continue to increase my mileage and decrease my pizza intake until I can look in a mirror without seeing Dom DeLuise staring back at me.

In other news, my leg wound from the ice slicing has pretty much healed up...but the finger I jammed on the 200 breaststroke in the swim meet is still bugging me. It's not a big deal -- I can type just fine, and can swim without discomfort. The only time it bothers me is when I play an A-major chord on the guitar, or try to open a bag of chips. Fortunately, "Stairway to Heaven" only uses A-minor, and I have scissors in my kitchen drawer, so life is good.

Still, doesn't it seem like a long time for a jammed finger to heal? And I still have no idea why I mis-timed my touch on that race anyway. I could see exactly where the wall was, and thought my lunge to the touchpad was appropriate. But my middle finger went straight in as if I had another two inches to go. Ow.

It could be poor depth perception. But it could also be a problem with neuron firing rates. Perhaps I'm no longer processing sensory data at the speed necessary for precise nano-corrections during high-stress athletic performances. I know that my ability to blurt out Jeopardy answers before Alex finishes reading the question isn't what it was 20 years ago, so perhaps the jammed finger is a symptom of the same degradation. Or perhaps it's just rustiness -- if I did more swim racing and watched more TV game shows, my former digital quickness and accuracy could be regained.

But let's face it; jammed fingers and failure to quickly phrase answers in the form of a question are not the only indicators that my brilliance might be fading like a government-mandated CFL. I have also forgotten to bring my towel into the gym on a couple of recent occasions. So how am I to get dry after my post-workout shower?

Yes, that's right...a ShamWow!

The last time I was in OfficeMax buying blank CD labels, I noticed a two-pack of these things sitting in the Bargain Bin. I had never been tempted to order a ShamWow! from television, and wouldn't have bought them at full price from a store, either. But the combination of the $3.00 pricetag and the fact that an office supply store was selling informercial products was enough to sway me. I put one in my swim bag, and one in my gym bag, and promptly stopped thinking about them.

Until I forgot my towel. Oh yes, I have dried myself off under blow dryers before, and have even used paper towels on occasion. But rather than resort to those alternatives, I remembered the ShamWow! and whipped it out.

I wasn't expecting much. I had read some reviews that said it was overhyped and ineffective. But to my surprise, I found the opposite to be true—The little orange doodad soaked up the water in a heartbeat. It worked better than my big beach towel, and after I squeezed the water out, was instantly ready to soak up even more. I was impressed!

Of course, I'll still use my regular towel when I remember it. There's a comfort level you get from the large-form terrycloth that you just can't pull out of a square-foot fake chamois. But for pure drying power, I've never seen anything like it! I'd highly recommend getting one as a backup item for your gym bag. They don't take up much space.

So, I guess what I'm saying is that my Boy Scout heritage (Be Prepared, etc) and modern scientific towel technologies have shown themselves to be up to the task of mitigating the damage caused by my failing brainpower. This is a very good thing. It doesn't help my finger feel any better, but at least it's something.

OK, enough about that. My next posting will include a report on the Yeti Chase 10K race, which is the first real test of my new run training strategy. Should be interesting. In the meantime, I guess I'll continue to avoid A chords, and will use the pain in my finger to avoid opening new bags of chips as much as I can. Wish me luck, and have a great day!

Parkinson's Law

"Work expands so as to fill the time available for its completion."

This is a quote from a gent named Cyril Northcote Parkinson, from an essay he wrote complaining about expanding bureaucracies. And while regular readers are well aware of my animosity toward bureacratic nonsense and its mutant offspring (ie, well-intentioned but counterproductive regulation), today's essay is not about those problems. It's about Heggy's Corollary to Parkinson's Law: "There just ain't enuff hours in the day."

My problem is illustrated by the graphic above. (More about that in a minute.) But first I will add a couple more bullets to yesterday's potpourri list.

• Zits—Oh come on! I may not look it, but I'm over 35 years old. It's well past the time when I should have to worry about pimples and other adolescent curses. But nope; I look in the mirror and see zits on my face -- right next to the wrinkles. Geez. What have I done to deserve this? (And don't say "chocolate and peanut butter", because those particular items are non-negotiable. If the dermatoligist tells me that I need to cut down on the brussels sprouts, though, I guess I could follow through with that.)


• Zapatos—I'm thinking about retiring my current pair of running shoes. I used to keep track of the miles I put on each pair of shoes, and would generally comply with the standard 500-mile replacement recommendations. But now that I've switch my athletic logging to the USMS "Go the Distance" Fitness Log (flog), I've lost track of when this particular pair of shoes came into service. I don't run all that much, so I seriously doubt I've put 500 miles on them, but since I rotate them from "running" into "daily wear" duty, and my current daily wear pair is getting kinda funky and threadbare, I'm going to go ahead and make the switch.
  
  My question for you is this: How often do you get new shoes, and what is the trigger for making that move?
  
  And not that this has anything to do with anything, but I still remember the absolute shock and horror I felt when my best friend in high school told me how he spent his paper route money. (He also taught me how to fold papers and throw them with great accuracy, boomerang style...while sitting in the car window, steering with your feet while the vehicle idled down the street with the remaining papers in a pile on the car's roof. Ah, those are good memories. It's too bad that kids today don't get to learn about flinging newsprint onto neighborhood porches at 4 in the morning. But I digress.) Anyway, Mickey made pretty good money from his paper route...and spent it ALL on shoes. He had dozens of pairs of shoes, including some pure white ones, others with tassels, and even a few wing-tips.
  
  I had never heard of a teenage boy with an entire closet full of shoes. It was creepy. Girls? Sure...they're silly and aren't expected to know any better. But for a guy to own that much footwear, well...if I hadn't known him so well, I'd have suspected he was gay. But let's face it, even my gay friends didn't have that many dang shoes.
  
  I've always figured that you need one pair of good running shoes, one pair to wear to the office, another pair for dress-up requirements...and that's it. Of course, you also need hiking boots, ski boots, and maybe a pair of slip-ons for taking out the garbage, but otherwise, the closet floor should be bare. (OK, I'll also allow specialty footwear, like water shoes, ice skates, or racquetball shoes. But you know what I mean.)
  
  Anyway, the point is that after my 10K race on Saturday, these Sauconys will move on to a more restful life, and my new Reeboks will come online.


• Digital Cable—Comcast has switched to all-digital TV now, which means that I had to order a new converter box if I want to watch any television. The good news is that I'll now receive about twice as many channels as I had before. The bad news is that almost all of those channels are Spanish news networks, shopping outlets, or religious programming...none of which will make it onto my "must see" list.
  
  But can you answer one question: Why do so many of the Spanish programs I flip past seem to be modeled after Benny Hill? Is he to Latinos what Jerry Lewis is to the French? I'm just curious.


• Pants—I know I have a sewing kit somewhere in the house. It used to be in my desk drawer, right next to the paper clips. This made sense to me for some reason, but it no longer seems to be there. It may be in the drawer with the matches, candles, and wax paper...or it could have been buried in the dresser underneath the "special occasion socks". (Those are the socks that play Christmas carols, are printed with "Happy Birthday" in 7 languages, or have that argyle pattern that can only be worn with Bermuda shorts when you're dressing up as your dad on Halloween.) I may spend the weekend searching for it, because a button on my favorite pair of pants is about to fall off.
  
  This may not be a big problem. After all, when I wear a belt, the button is hidden behind it -- and it really isn't required to keep the trousers on. The belt and zipper seem to be up to the task by themselves. But it would just be weird to have a button hole without the corresponding button. I'm sure that people like Bill Gates and Snoop Doggy Dog just throw away their pants when a button falls off, but a poor guy like me is forced to be more frugal. Of course, locating my sewing kit is no guarantee that I'd be able to successfully restore the button to full functionality--I'm no Laura Petrie. But I feel compelled to try.

The point of all of this is that I seem to always be in a "rush". If I'm not adjusting cable boxes, applying restorative skin creams, shopping for shoes, or digging through sock drawers to find needles and thread, well, then I seem to be preparing lunch, deciding what to wear to work, or trying to figure out IRS forms. There's always something to do, and not enough time to do it all.

Of course, some would suggest that if I spent less time griping about my lack of time, I'd be able to use that time to do something productive. They may have a point. But where's the fun in that?

Anyway, I'm sure you knew these guys right away, but I'll still go ahead and explain the opening graphic for any Oklahomans in the audience. The first guy is Rush Limbaugh, who I think is a disc jockey or something...anyway, I understand that he has a radio show that's popular with young people. Next to him is the inventor of trail mix, Mikey Gorpbachev, who is from Rush-ia. The dude with the bass is Geddy Lee, lead singer for the rock group "Rush", and finally we have Geoffrey Rush, in his role as Casanova Frankenstein in one of my all-time favorite movies, Mystery Men.

So, with that, I'd better rush off to workout. (Hey, at least I don't have to waste any time figuring out which shoes to wear, eh?) If anyone wants to volunteer their sewing services, let me know. Otherwise, have a great day!

Potpourri

For some reason known only to the French, the "t" in "potpourri" is silent. It's pronounced "Poe-poo-ree". And because they seem to enjoy messing with us, they also call a train station a "Dee-poe", and the villain from "Rocky II" is known as "Mr. (silence)."

I guess they don't drink anything with their crumpets, either.

Anyway, depite its frenchness, "potpourri" is a cromulent word, and it describes my approach to today's blog. I suppose I could have used "Salmagundi" instead, but that sounds too much like the stage name for an Italian magician.

Anyway, the point is that I don't have a single topic to discuss at length today, but instead will offer short observations on a variety of topics, presented in bullet form. Let us begin:

• Track Practice—We are a third of the way to the equinox, and it's starting to stay light until after I get off work. Whoo hoo! My brother and I took advantage of this by running at the track yesterday evening. My hamstrings were a bit tight, so I was afraid to really open it up; I do NOT want to hurt myself. So instead of lengthening my stride, I concentrated on foot cadence and keeping a fast turnover rate. My "hummingbird" cadence is roughly equivalent to a normal person's "three-toed ground sloth" cadence, but the point is that I forced myself to go faster than was comfortable...and therefore hopefully achieved some sort of training effect. I can feel it in my legs this morning, and that's good.


• The Metric System—Isn't it strange how random thoughts from the deep past will suddenly appear and tap you on the shoulder? For reasons I cannot possibly fathom, the name of my 7th-Grade science teacher popped into my head this morning: Cornelius Jongedyke. What a great name!
  
  "Uncle Corny", as we called him (but not to his face), was a fine teacher, and had a passion for the subject matter. But I will never forget how careful he was when tiptoeing around the theory of evolution. It was clear that his personal opinion was squarely on the side of fossil evidence, but he made it a point to ensure us that Darwin's theory wasn't necessarily in conflict with religious teachings. At the time, it puzzled me that he spent so much energy presenting a viewpoint he obviously didn't believe...but this was before I had heard of the Scopes Trial or the Flying Spaghetti Monster.
  
  The other thing I remember about that class was that I shared a lab table with a kid named Darrell Bybee. I was the smallest and weakest kid in the class, and he was the largest and strongest, so it made perfect evolutionary sense that he would threaten to beat me up each day if I didn't do his homework for him and let him cheat off of me on tests. I never did those things -- and he never did beat me up -- so I concluded that Darwinism might not have universal applicability.
  
  Anyway, the point is that Mr. Jongedyke insisted on using the metric system for all our science experiments, and that was fine with me. In fact, when I was first exposed to centimeters and grams and such (3rd grade? 4th?), I remember thinking "This is simply too logical not to be adopted. The USA will obviously be totally metric by 1970."
  
  After seeing "The Empire Strikes Back", I also predicted that Yoda's cryptic "There is another" comment to Obi Wan's ghost meant that Jabba the Hutt would turn out to be a secret Jedi, and would be the one to whup Vader in the final episode.
  
  The lesson to be learned here is that if you hear me make a confident pronouncement about the future, it's probably best to bet on the exact opposite.
  
  Hmm. Have you ever noticed how Yoda sorta resembles Edgar Allan Poe?
  
  And speaking of football playoffs, did you know that Poe is from Baltimore, whose team is named the "Ravens"? I'm sure if he were alive today, he'd be a frequent guest on the "NFL Today" show, where he'd be asked to create poems about the Ravens and their chances for the SuperBowl.
  
  Deep among the playoff dances
  I pondered on the Raven's chances
  Of all the teams, just one advances; will it be our Baltimore?
  From locker rooms all dark and shady
  There rose a fearless man named Brady
  With lions courage, on he played; he found a way to boost the score.
  The Ravens moved on...nevermore.
  
  Hmm, perhaps it's best that Mr. Poe continues to rest in peace, eh?


• Perpetuity—A swimmer I ran into at the gym this morning asked me if I was still coaching for Foothills. At first it struck me as an odd question -- of course I'm still coaching there. But then I realized that I'm operating under an unspoken assumption. I hadn't really ever voiced this thought, but some part of my brain has taken for granted the idea that I will continue to coach this team until I'm as dead and buried as ol' Edgar Allan. (What's ol' Ed doing today? Decom-Poe-zing. Ar ar.) Under close analysis, my assumption turns out to be a very foolish one; there are many scenarios in which my tenure could end. The facility could close, my boss could decide to hire a younger and more charismatic coach, or they could do away with the team because we complain too much about the water temperature. I could marry Dorothy Hamill and move to New Hampshire, or could go on a European tour playing Eric Idle as part of a Monty Python tribute troupe.
  
  But...if none of those things occurs, I could definitely see myself creating workouts and yelling at swimmers for another 50 or 60 years. It's what I do.
  
  And that got me to thinking: What other things would I consider to be permanent parts of my life? Running? Well...no. Writing? Yeah, maybe, though that could take on many different forms. Laughing at my own jokes, even when nobody else sees any humor in them whatsoever? Oh, definitely.
  
  What about you? Are there any activities that are deeply embedded within your soul? My son Tanner will always be making music, and my friend Katie will always run. My filmmaker buddy Doug will always have creative ideas, and my college roommate Mickey will always make me laugh. But what about you? What defines you in such a way that you expect to carry it with you throughout your life?

OK, I had a couple of other random bullet points I was going to discuss, but I went a bit overboard on these topics. I'll save the others for another time. Until then, have a great day!

Zombies

Perhaps Bob Hope's insight explains why there is such a rich cinematic tradition of tales of the undead -- those movies provide dramatic cultural metaphors that help us make sense of our own society. Who among us hasn't seen repulsive examples of mindless motion from insensate beings driven by remorseless appetites -- often within our very own office buildings? (Or at least at the Post Office?)

I bring this up because I saw an interesting movie over the weekend. It was called "Aaah! Zombies!!", and it presented a typical "government experiment gone wrong" story...but told it from the perspective of the zombies themselves. After being infected by the toxic goo, the kids felt completely normal -- except that they no longer experienced pain, and were somewhat nonplussed when various body parts fell off. From their perspective, the rest of the world had sped up (Star Trek fans may think of it as a mild form of Scalosianism) and everyone else had become extremely violent and confused; anyone they encountered either ran away in horror or immediately tried to kill them.

It's all a matter of viewpoint, you see. The kids were just trying to figure out what to do next, and were puzzled by the fact that exposed human brains suddenly seemed to be an appetizing snack. But to the uninfected, these characters appeared to be horrid, inarticulate abominations...and inevitable conflicts arose between the two groups.

It was a mildly entertaining movie. I really appreciated the new take on traditional zombie lore. There were a few plot problems -- such as how they managed to get the dead bowlers to eat the toxic ice cream that converted them, and why the fat Colonel was casually dining at a Mexican restaurant if he was supposed to be on zombie patrol, or why the cute girl's parents thought that zombies could read the warning signs they posted on their door -- but let's face it...when you're talking about brain-eating reanimated corpses, logical consistency is not necessarily one of your major scripting paradigms.

Anyway, it made me think that there are probably some other perspectives on the zombie genre that haven't yet been brought to the screen. If you have a fresh idea on the topic (and investors willing to back it), let's talk. I'd love to direct it!

And if you've been following this column for a while, you already know that weird cosmic connections seem to fall into place with regularity. The zombie topic is no exception. When I posted our latest graphical "connections quiz", I had no thought at all about zombification -- and the movie I saw was just a random Netflix selection. But are they connected? Oh yeah. You betcha!

I'll get to that in a moment. First, let's reveal the answer to the questions posed by this set of pictures. What's the theme?



It's "Snake". The first fellow is Kurt Russell in his role of Snake Plissken in "Escape from New York". The second is Snake Jailbird, a recurring criminal character on "The Simpsons". The third one is Don "the Snake" Prudhomme, one of the most successful funny car drivers in the sport of drag racing, and the last is Kenny "the Snake" Stabler, former quarterback for the Oakland Raiders.

Zombie connection? Well, in the Simpsons episode entitled "Hell Toupee", Snake Jailbird is executed, but comes back to life in the form of a zombie hairpiece that goes on a killing rampage. And Kenny Stabler happens to have the same first name as the kid on South Park who is constantly being killed, only to live again. Spooky, isn't it?

So what about these?



The solution to this puzzle is that the name for each panel starts with the letter "P", and they all rhyme. Pleasence, Presents, Peasants, Pheasants.

Yeah, I know...sometimes, they're just too easy.

The first frame is actor Donald Pleasence, shown here in the role of bad guy Ernst Stavro Blofeld in the James Bond Movie "You Only Live Twice". We have two zombie connections here: one is that the role of Blofeld was later played by Charles Gray, who is most famous for being the narrator in "The Rocky Horror Picture Show", which happens to be about...you guessed it -- animating lifeless flesh. The other is that Pleasence also starred in "Halloween", in which the bad guy is consistently killed, but keeps showing up again.

I supposed you could make the case that King Arthur, who is talking to the peasants in frame 3, was also peripherally involved in reanimation by walking past the "I'm not dead" guy in the corpse cart scene...but that's a bit of a stretch for me.

A couple of people guessed that the connection between the two sets of pictures was that Blofeld was part of SPECTRE, an incredibly evil organization bent on the destruction of civilization. And Stabler was part of the Oakland Raiders, for which the same can be said. OK...it's not what I had in mind, but I'll give you full credit if that was your answer.

However, the connection I was going for was the more obvious one: Donald Pleasence played the President of the United States in "Escape from New York", and was, in fact, the guy that Snake Plissken was sent in to rescue. Pretty straighforward. But of course, our cosmic connections don't end there -- it turns out that in "Escape...", Pleasence was kidnapped by none other than Mr. Isaac Hayes, who also played a role on South Park and was eventually killed...just like Kenny! And speaking of Presidents, well, our current Commander in Chief just happens to be a Democrat, which is what Bob Hope was talking about to start this entire discussion.

Wow. Really makes you think, doesn't it?

Anyway, the point is that you probably shouldn't eat any food that was prepared near leaky drums of luminescent green fluid disposed of by secret government labs—That's all I'm saying. So stay healthy, my friends, and have a great day!

Wind

I'm sure you're familiar with the quote "Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent." It comes from Isaac Asimov's "Foundation" series (which I consider mandatory reading) and is usually wielded in reference to politics.

I am not a politician. I have always felt that I would be an excellent benevolent dictator, since I am incredibly wise and unlikely to be corrupted by absolute power...but I am utterly lacking in the skills it would take to get elected. I can't lie convincingly, would have problems smiling when confronted by the predatory idiocy of journalists, and I have this annoying belief that you shouldn't write checks when there's no money in your account.

But when I sat down to write today, I recognized that there may be a literary corollary to Asimov's line. I suggest: "Writing about weather is the last refuge of the incompetent blogger."

You see, all I could think about was how gosh-darned windy it was this morning. I thought about going outdoors for a run before swim practice, but when I made my early trip to the grocery store, I realized that conditions abroad were thoroughly unpleasant. I went to the gym instead.

But rather than ranting about how Nature doesn't cooperate with my wishes for idyllic training weather, I have decided to present another graphical quiz. Can you tell me the connection between all the photos at the top of this post? (No, the third guy is not Mac Davis, nor Jim Plunkett, nor Andre the Giant. My hint is that his jacket is fire-resistant.)

Then there's this:



And the double-points bonus question: What's the connection between the two sets of images?

As you ponder these puzzles, keep in mind that Spring is only a couple of months away. I hope I won't have to write about the weather too many more times before then. In the meantime, I hope you wake up tomorrow to find a beautiful sunrise accompanied by exactly the type of weather you were hoping for. Have a great day!

The Wild West Show

One of my neighbors has a "PETA" bumper sticker. On first glance, I assumed he was one of those folks who pickets the "Seasonal" aisle at the grocery store to protest the sale of insect repellants, etc...but upon closer examination, I saw that the small print explained that PETA stood for "People Eating Tasty Animals". He was probably one of the thousands of folks I saw last weekend at the National Western Stock Show.

Let's face it -- the show does indeed contain a lot of American history tribute material, with displays about Native American arts, malachite jewelry, and (for some reason) Amazing Steam Mops and Never-Go-Dull cutlery...but the real point of the whole enterprise is to celebrate the meat production industry. There is some SERIOUS beef on display there.

I attended the Stock Show on Saturday with some of my best friends (pictured above), and had a great time. There is incredible entertainment value to be had from just wandering around and soaking in the visual and olfactory stimulation. But we also had tickets to the "Wild West Show" in the evening. (More about that in a minute.)

Even though I grew up in Kansas, and spent many a day milking cows and riding tractors on my Grandad's farm, I can't say I ever really adopted the agricultural industry as an integral component of my internal makeup. I sorta like the smell of cows (and their, um, byproducts), but I think this is just because it's a sensory callback to happy memories of my youth. I can't say I really relate to the beasts themselves. I do enjoy a good hamburger now and then -- and I love ground beef on my tacos, but have never developed a taste for steak, roast, or prime rib. And as for appreciating cattle from an aesthetic standpoint, well...no.

OK, that's not entirely true: I do enjoy the antics of the cows in the Chik-Fil-A commercials, and I think that a good "moo" can be almost musical if delivered with enough passion. But I have to say that the grooming rituals I witnessed at the stock show are baffling at best, and possibly even a bit disturbing.

They were fluffing up the cow fur (hair?) with blow dryers! And using afro combs to rat the tips of their tails into big white balls. One ambitious youth was even mousseing up a mohawk along his cow's spine!

Seriously, what's up with that? I can totally dig admiring a cow for how large and meaty it is, but when they start tarting it up with Mary Kay and Vidal Sassoon products, then I get a little bit creeped out. Thank goodness I didn't see anyone applying lip gloss or eyeliner. Geez.

But the vendor booths are a hoot! There are plenty of displays for milking pens, barbed-wire fences, and genetically-engineered grain products...as well as boots, gloves, belts, and buckles the size of Rhode Island. These things make sense in a Western show environment, but what fascinates me are all the booths for homemade slushy makers, salad spinners, and Egyptian bedsheets; things that you don't necessarily connect with life on the prairie. And then there are all the falafels and caramel apples and carcinogens-on-a-stick that you can buy for higher-than-airport prices...and it's all absolutely delightful!

I spent $18 for a chicken sandwich, a few beans, and some cole slaw on a paper plate. I don't know if the high price affected my perception of its quality, but I thought it was yummy! And after a small $6 frozen non-dairy confection cone, I was happy and utterly at peace. Time for the Wild West Show!

As we waited for the show to begin, we were serenaded with some authentic cowboy music, sung by a feller who had the requisite fringes on his shirt, six-guns at his side, and kerchief around his neck. I say that it was authentic, because I imagine he sounded pretty much like what you could expect to hear if you were in the middle of an Oklahoma cattle drive and were forced to listen to one of your fellow cowpunchers belt out a few songs around the campfire after a long day on the trail and nuthin' but beans fer supper: Three chords, repetitive lyrics about tumbleweeds, and a timid uncertainty about whether the song is finished or not.

I bet cowboy life woulda been a lot better with iPods.

Anyway, the show itself was entertaining enough, and featured a variety of acts. There was a Will Rogers impersonator doing rope tricks and trying to woo the audience with compliments about Tim Tebow. (Hint: Stick with straight cowboy jokes; not everyone there was a Tebow fan.) There were a bunch of trained animal acts, including a horse that responded to nothing but voice commands and even jumped into the back of a pickup truck while it was moving. There was some impressive (and downright scary) stunt riding by the Westernaires (who locals know from seeing them holding out their donation boots at King Soopers). And a really exciting "chuck wagon" race. I still don't know if the wagon's axle falling off was part of the script or not, but the contraption still moved pretty fast on just one set of wheels.

There was a teeny tiny horse:



A bunch of Cossacks:



And even a couple of Brahma bulls that could roll over and play dead:



As I said, I did enjoy the show. But there were a few things I'd probably do differently if I were the director. For one thing, I'd use somebody who sounded like Rex Allen to be the narrator, rather than a guy who sounds like a Top 40 DJ. And I'd ask the Native American dancers to explain how they keep from falling over from dizziness after spinning in the same direction for 15 minutes. (I'd also choose music that didn't remind me quite so much of Riverdance in its monotony. But it did make me think that it would be interesting to take one of these guys and put him in a room with Michael Flatley, and, you know, see what happens.) Anyway, here are some brief video highlights:



One more thing that's not really related to anything else: I suspect it's unusual for any of us to remember the very first time we heard a particular word. But when I ran across a taxidermy booth and saw the critter pictured here, I was struck with a vivid memory of my first exposure to the word "puma". I probably remember it because I was being entertained by a musical story, but without knowing exactly what a puma was, I became somewhat annoyed that my mind couldn't provide the appropriate visual to flesh out the tale within my head. I vowed to look up the definition as soon as that particular TV show was over, and I've never forgotten it. Please enjoy this enlightening moment from my youth, and have a great day! (Oh, and if you didn't click on the shirt link, well, you should.)

Another Action-Packed Weekend!

Do you recognize this woman?

I was flipping through channels, and happened to see Perry Mason utterly destroy her credibility on the witness stand. I thought, "Dude, you should look her up later, when you end up in a wheelchair; maybe she could help you out then."

Anyway, Friday started out with a good swim practice, followed by a 7-mile run with my buddy Reynold. It was nasty windy when we got to the pool, so after swim practice we debated options in the locker room -- but when we went outside, we saw that it had turned into a fairly pleasant day. I wore long pants and long sleeves, but didn't need gloves. The air was calm. The only real problems with the run were the snow and ice on the path...and the fact that Reynold is just a little too fast for me. He set a very challenging pace, and completely wore me out.

But that's what workout buddies are for, right? I mean, sure, there's the enjoyable social aspect of it, but in the end, you always appreciate being pushed a bit. I could definitely feel it in my legs on Saturday. It was a good run, and a great way to begin the weekend.

On Saturday morning, I went over to 24-Hr Fitness to pump some iron. I hadn't done a really strenuous lifting session for quite some time, and it felt good to go into the locker room afterwards feeling that shaky, vibrating feeling that tells you it was time well spent. I zipped home for a couple of hours to do some chores, and to decide how I was going to approach the Polar Plunge. I intended to be over at the Grant Ranch lake by 11:00.

I decided I'd wear my rubber sandals, my thickest pair of sweat pants, and a fuzzy-lined hoodie, with my swimming suit underneath (of course). I was ready.

Unfortunately, I had misread the event description. The plunge wasn't supposed to start until noon. So I apparently would be standing in the snow (in my sandals) for an entire hour. I'm no dummy, though, so after about a half hour of watching ice crystals form on my toes, I walked back to the car to get a pair of boots.

While we waited, the guys with poles and shovels were working hard to chop a big enough hole in the ice. There was a small fire going down by the shoreline, and a plate of cookies at the top of the hill. I spent the time chatting with Reynold and his wife, and was having fun. But eventually, it was time for to take the plunge.

Reynold went in with the first group. (That's the top of his head in the photo. He looks like he's trying to swim butterfly...but I think it was really just a brief dunking -- with style points.)

It was fun to watch. There were varying degrees of emoting, a few smiles, and quite a few incomprehensible hoots and whoops. (Reynold looked much happier once he was back on shore and began to reapply warmth to his feet.) But everyone who had come intending to get in the water did it...and even a couple of onlookers changed their minds and took a dip with the rest of us.

I was especially impressed with Cliff Crozier's kids. (I kinda wonder if this sort of thing is recommended as a family bonding experience by a majority of child development experts, but hey -- they all seemed to be having fun.) Dean and his friend took their dip, thought about it for a while, and then decided to go back in for seconds. I have to confess that I also thought about making a return trip, but was starting to feel a little discomfort in my toes, and was a little afraid of permanent nerve damage. Yeah, I know, that's a wimp attitude, and I'm very ashamed.

Other than that, though, the only complaint I have is that there was a hidden shelf of ice about a foot beneath the surface. The ice-chopper dudes had busted a nice clean surface keyhole for the plunge, but were unaware of the extra danger below. Several of us encountered this shelf as a sharp pain in the leg as we rammed into it on the way out of the water. I felt the impact, and began to warn others to be careful to avoid it, but otherwise didn't think much about it. My legs felt fine, despite the underwater impact.

OK, the truth is that I couldn't feel my legs. It wasn't until someone looked at me and gasped that I thought to look down. There was blood everywhere. (The photo shows what it looked like after I cleaned it up and tried to stop the bleeding. Before that, it was much messier.) But as I said, it didn't hurt a bit. It just took a while to clean up. And worse than that, as long as I was bloody, I didn't want to put my pants back on...and it was kinda cold out there.

No worries, though. I eventually got myself put back together, and jumped in the car to drive to Golden to join my friends for a trip to the National Western Stock Show. (That story will have to wait until my next post. Be sure to check back -- it will feature videos of authentic Wild West action reenactment.) I did worry for a while, because as the car's heater kicked in and I started to warm up, my toes began to hurt pretty badly. I began to fear frostbite or something...but in another 15 or 20 minutes, normal feeling returned, and I felt pretty good.

Anyway, back to Perry Mason, et al. The photo at the top of this post is from one of the many, many roles played by versatile actress Meg Wyllie. She was on numerous TV series and soap operas, and worked steadily for several decades. But her most enduring role will surely be "The Keeper" in the original Star Trek pilot episode starring Jeffrey Hunter. This pilot show was later recut with Kirk and Spock and fashioned into a 2-episode feature titled "The Menagerie". Both the 2-parter and the original pilot are literary classics, dealing with the eternal theme of what it means to be human.

The "wheelchair" reference was to the fact that Raymond Burr (Perry Mason) later played a character called Ironside, who was confined to a wheelchair. In "The Menagerie", Mr. Spock's mutinous behavior was committed in an attempt to give comfort to his former commander, who was now confined to a wheelchair. See?

Sorry to go all Kevin Bacon on you there, but sometimes these cosmic connections just need to be discussed. Anyway, the point is that if you want to keep yourself filled with the human spirit it takes to defeat vein-headed telepathic aliens, you really should sign up for the polar plunge next year. That's all I'm trying to say.

Embrace the ice, my friends, and have a great day!

100 x 100s, etc

That was a fun-filled weekend.

It started with a swim meet at Heritage High School. I haven't been entering many swim meets in the last few years because I never knew if I'd be working weekends, and didn't want to pay money for entry fees to events that I wouldn't be able to attend. But now that I have an employer who is simply interested in getting the work done and has no desire to destroy your very soul, I feel like I can begin to commit to weekend activities again. This particular meet was fairly close to home, and featured a Team Rep meeting following the competition, so I signed up.

I feel like I'm in fairly good shape these days, but it became obvious very quickly that I'm not exactly tuned up for competition. My race pacing was uniformly terrible -- the second quarter of each race was abysmal. I found myself afraid to push hard in the middle of the race for fear that I would be depleted and unable to finish, but I ended up consistently going out too slow and having too much energy left at the end. The second 100 of my 200 freestyle was 2 seconds faster than the first, and I negative split my 200 backstroke by 4 seconds! That ain't right.

The bottom line is that I need to compete more often.

The good news is that I finished first in my age group in three of my five events. (As long as no one points out that there weren't any other guys my age swimming, then my performances sound pretty awesome.) My times weren't quite where I wanted them, but they weren't depression-inducing, either. It was just the pacing that stunk.

So I guess that kinda fits with my New Years resolution about competing more. Eye of the tiger, baby. Eye of the tiger.

And speaking of mental toughness, one of the inspiring swimmers at the meet was a young woman named Ryan Mclean. She is hoping to make the US team for the London Paralympics, and competed in multiple events, including the 500. She swam each race with obvious enthusiasm, and was clearly enjoying the atmosphere on deck between events, too. And even though she has a shot at representing our country in world competition, she is still friendly and open to meeting new people.

But that's one of the things I love about Masters Swimming. Everyone seems to be smiling all the time at Masters swim meets -- and Ryan was no exception. She is just another example of all the things that are good and inspirational about our sport.

And speaking of great things about swimming with Masters, well...then there was Sunday. This was the day of our annual "100 x 100s" swim at the Ridge. We had a good team turnout, with almost every lane holding multiple swimmers. I don't know for sure how many people swam all 10,000 yards, but there were at least 10 who did. Congratulations to all of those hearty souls! You totally rock!



I fiddled around talking to people, trying to make sure everyone had appropriate lane mates. I answered some questions about logistics, and warned a couple of the lanes about the possibility that scuba divers may be coming in later. By the time I finally started, most of the people I wanted to swim with were well into the workout.

I ended up swimming most of it with my friend Bob. Bob cracks me up, not only because he's a funny guy, but because he is a natural-born sprinter who has somehow converted himself into a 10K swimmer. Sprinters are funny just 'cuz...but when they become distance people, I find it even more amusing. It's like they're thumbing their nose at Nature for cursing them with fast-twitch anatomies, and using all their willpower to aspire toward the perfection we distance people were born with. Good for you, I say. And thanks for letting me share a lane with you.

We broke up the workout into sets of 5 x 100, and did them all on the same sendoff (a fairly leisurely 1:30). It went by quickly, and really didn't seem like that much of a challenge. But it still feels good to finish, especially when you know you can go out for a big lunch afterwards.



Not everyone who swam the workout was able to make the luncheon, but everyone who did show up was in the proper celebratory mood, and we all enjoyed the company and the nutritional replenishment. It's almost a shame that we probably won't do that sort of workout again until next January.

Although...I am the coach, and can choose the workouts as I please. Hmmm.

I'll have to think about that. In the meantime, thanks to everyone who participated in making my weekend a joyous one. Now let's go out and have a great time throughout the rest of January, OK?

Calendar

So how do these pictures relate to our discussion of New Years Resolutions? Well, in a couple of ways. But I'll get to that in a moment. First, did you deduce the connection between the individual frames?

It's "Julius".

The leftmost frame is a scene from "Berry Gordy's The Last Dragon", which might be my second favorite kung fu movie behind "Enter the Dragon". And there, my friends, is our first connection to the previous posts...a few days ago we had seen a snip from that movie when discussing the internal fire required to remake ourselves via the resolution process. Both movies have "Dragon" in the title, and both feature a fellow named Bruce. (In the Last Dragon, it's Bruce Leroy, rather than Bruce Lee...but it's close enough.) Anyway the fellow in the picture is the marvelous actor Julius Carry, who sadly passed away from pancreatic cancer several years ago. I always loved the intensity he brought to his roles, and he could chew scenery with the best of them. He was also a featured player in what might be the best Western series that nobody has heard of: The Adventures of Briscoe County, Jr.



The happy couple in the next frame are the notorious Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, who were convicted of selling US secrets to the Commies, and were sentenced to the electric chair as a result.

Another method of punishment is featured in the third frame: the dreaded Orange Julius. I suppose we could make a connection to the resolution topic by saying that I resolve not to consume one of these nasty things this year. But that doesn't take much willpower.

Anyway, next to OJ is Julius Caesar, who implemented a 12-month calendar similar to the one we use today. Whether the New Years Resolution came into being on his watch, I'm not certain, but he did have a calendar named after him, so in my book, that's good enough to call a connection.

And finally, we have Dr. Julius Hibbert, the family physician for the Simpsons. One person suggested that this was the key "connection" graphic...indicating that we are all "suckers" for allowing the government to pass misguided healthcare reform, and that 2012 would be the year when it gets struck down by the Supreme Court. But be that as it may, it was not my intention to make a political statement via the graphic. He was just another Julius, whose antics I occasionally enjoy. You are free, however, to draw your own conclusions. In any case, I hope you enjoyed the challenge, and will come back to play again.

In upcoming posts, I'll be talking about a swim meet, and our 100 x 100s swim practice. Until then, take some time to watch "The Last Dragon" and "Briscoe County" if you can, and have a great day!

OK, Here's My List

Just a reminder: You can click on these pictures to enlarge them. Sometimes that will help you understand what you see, and will therefore help you deduce the connections between the graphics. I'm sure most of you will quickly spot the common theme in this one, but it's probably a bit more of a challenge to figure out how it relates to our ongoing topic of New Years Resolutions. I'll come back to that in a bit.

So...what should I change in 2012? What should I do different, aspire to achieve, or eliminate from my life? Which milestones do I want to surpass this year? What new habits do I want to develop?

Well, I already mentioned that I want to become a better athlete. I don't mean that I expect to set new PRs, since that ship has long since sailed. (I suppose I could enter events I've never done before, like mountain biking or cross-country skiing, but I'd have to learn how to do those sports without killing myself first. Not sure I can pull that off.) What I mean is that it's time to regain some focus, set some goals, and try to compete at a higher level than I have in the last few years. This will require some subtle changes in both my workout patterns and in my nutrition planning.

Oh don't worry...I'll still be happy to eat nachos now and then, and to continue our fine tradition of "Fun Friday" workouts at the pool. Just being focused doesn't mean you have to be dull. Right?

And in other efforts to combat dullness, I am resolving to become a bit more social. This resolution may be somewhat problematic, given my nominal 7pm bedtime, but with some creativity and effort, I should be able to pull it off.

One of my female friends suggested that if I grew my hair longer, I'd be more attractive to the ladies, like I was a few decades ago. This suggestion may have merit, but I'd have to weigh the improvement in my social standing against the extra hassle of having to blow-dry it and pay someone to cut it. And let's face it, no matter how Fabio-esque I could make myself, no amount of flowing tresses could cover up my deficiencies in personality and sense of humor.

I may consider buying a new suit, though.

Otherwise, I'm not sure what form my increased socialization will take. Despite my uncanny resemblance to John Travolta, I'm not likely to suddenly embrace the disco scene. And playing chess with the old men in City Park is probably not an option either. I'll probably just enter a few more races and swim meets. And maybe I'll go to the Stock Show.

As for other resolutions, well, if we lived in Jetsons times, I'd probably get one of those housekeeping robots. (Preferably one that couldn't talk, though.) But since those are not available (no, Roomba doesn't count -- it can't do the laundry), I'll have to find other ways to decrease my home maintenance workload. One thing I'd like to explore is how to reduce the amount of garbage and recycling I have to take out. I'm not sure what the ecologically correct term for it is (garbage footprint? personal consumption index? reverse groceries?), but I'm sure there are people who track such things and would have plenty of advice for me. But I could get use some help from the packaging people, too. Heck, I'd save 1000 pounds of garbage each year if they'd just sell Peppermint Patties without individually wrapping each one.

I also want to do new stuff, go outside my comfort zone in different ways, and travel someplace I've never been before. Since Tanner is in Seattle, that's one of the obvious choices. But I'm not going to limit myself to towns with Space Needles and Bill Gates; I'll consider pretty much anyplace that's listed in Roadside America.

And I'm still considering joining my friend Cliff for the Grant Ranch Polar Plunge next weekend. Jumping into a lake through a hole in the ice would be new, for sure. On the other hand, I suppose there are things that are outside my comfort zone without taking me all the way into complete insanity. We'll see.

In 2011, I took a huge step foward in the arena of "work/life balance" when I changed jobs. This year, I'd like to continue on the "balance" theme. Part of this is to make sure that I maintain balance between work and fun...but part of it is to become more balanced physically. This means figuring out how to stay injury free, remembering to do some "stand on one foot" kinds of stretching throughout the day, and doing whatever I can to minimize the risks of carpal tunnel syndrome, etc. This may mean learning to use the mouse left handed like my crazy webcasting buddies, or breathing more to my right side when I swim. There is definitely more BOSU work in my future, and possibly some DIY yoga. Perhaps it's even time to dust off the unicycle.

So that's about it. I'll admit that these resolutions aren't very exciting, but that doesn't mean that my year won't be. And besides, I can always add goals as the days go by, right? I expect 2012 to be a year that is chock full of accomplishments, laughter, love, and learning. I know that my friends and teammates will continue to inspire me to improve in ways I can't even predict right now, so I'm definitely looking forward to continuing the journey with all of you. Let's all have a great year!

More About Resolutions

I'm still thinking about New Years Resolutions.

I'll give you a second to ponder what this picture has to do with thinking about resolutions. (Hint: It has nothing to do with Blue Öyster Cult, or with discussions about how Global Warming alarmism will play into the upcoming election.) But before I explain its significance, I'll just say a few words about what I've concluded so far.

First off, I am completely at peace with the idea that I didn't have my goals for 2012 ready for publication on Jan 1. If the tasks don't have to be completed until Dec 31, then the list really doesn't need to be written until sometime around the Winter Solstice, if you're being honest about it. Still, I do plan to finish them up this week. We'll see how that goes.

Beyond that observation, I have discovered that my Resolutions seem to fall into three broad categories. The first is "Stuff that would be super cool, but over which I have almost zero control". This would include goals such as winning the lottery, having Heather Locklear join my swim team, and seeing Ted Nugent win the New Hampshire primary. I'll keep my fingers crossed, but will not base my long-term planning on the assumption that these dreams will come true.

The second category is "Stuff that I could do this year if I was focused and disciplined, gave up television, and followed a well-crafted action plan." There is nothing to prevent me from achieving these goals, and I'll eventually get them done...but it's probably unrealistic to expect them to be completed this year. This category includes items such as publishing my next book, creating a YouTube video that's entertaining enough to go viral, and learning to speak fluent Japanese.

And speaking of Japanese, did you recognize the link between "thinking" and "flying monsters"? It's actually a pretty simple one, and doesn't require any knowledge of Star Trek.

The best known graphical representation of deep philosophical contemplation is the statue of "The Thinker", shown here in the illustration to the left. It was sculpted in 1902 by a Frenchman named Auguste Rodin. And being French (and therefore someone who talks funny), the dude pronounced his last name more like "Rodan", which as well all know, it the name of the fire-breathing flying monster depicted with Godzilla and Mega-Cujo at the top of this post.

And in case you were wondering, no, I do not know anything at all about Miss Grocery Queen 1960. And quite frankly, I'm afraid to investigate that question. Some things are best left shrouded in the mists of the past.

Anyway, the third category of resolutions includes those goals that are small enough (or vague enough) to actually be achieved. The rules for goal setting state that a goal much be specific, tied to a due date, and measurable. Goals such as "Have more fun" meet none of the three criteria, and are therefore not legitimate as "goals". I would submit, however, that they would be OK as resolutions. You could look back at the end of the year and say "Yeah, I s'pose I did have more fun than back in 2011." That's good enough for me.

So this shall be the category upon which I focus: vague, incremental, and immeasurable improvements.

I'll share a few of these resolutions with you in my next post. I'll also solicit your support in achieving them. I do expect 2012 to be an outstanding year, and the more we encourage each other toward excellence, the better it will be.

And with that, I'll leave you with the first of my resolutions for 2012: Be a better athlete. I'll provide details as to what I mean by this in the next entry. But for now, I'll leave you with some inspiring words that every coach should share with their athletes:

"We forge our bodies in the fire of our wills!"

Ah, how true. We should each ask ourselves what sort of internal fire we will generate in 2012--and then go make it happen. If you'd like, please feel free to watch the video below for context, and have a great day!

Resolutions

OK, back to work.

I have to confess that I didn't spend a whole lot of time thinking about work since the day before Christmas. I like my job a lot, and consider myself a devoted employee...but I'm perfectly capable of setting it all aside when I'm not in the office. When I'm swimming, hiking, or playing Jeopardy with the Swedish Bikini Team, etc, I am rarely distracted by random thoughts of the duties awaiting me back at my desk. So after a long and wonderful holiday break, I find myself unsure of exactly where I left off, and what specific tasks are at the top of my priority list. I'm sure I'll figure it out as I re-immerse myself in my role of corporate drone, but at the moment I'm afraid I'm a tad unfocused.

Oh well, nothing like the crack of the employer's whip to reboot the ol' brain cells, eh? I'm sure I'll be fine. First, though, I'd like to take a moment to review a couple of items. The first announcement is that Waterton Canyon is now scheduled to open on March 1, weather permitting.

"Weather permitting" means that they really have no idea when they're going to finish up, and that I'd better not plan on using the canyon for my spring running training. I need to look for other options. Any suggestions?

Second, I feel mildly obligated to report on the status of my 2011 New Years Resolutions. I'll post my 2012 Resolutions later this week, but before I generate them, I should probably take a look at how well I did on my last set. They were:

• Refrain from singing "Surfin' Bird" during staff meetings.


• Check into bionic replacement parts for the honked-up ankle that makes me such a lousy runner.


• Write entertaining blogs without relying so heavily on obscure Star Trek references.


• Forgive the Irish for the abomination that is U2.


• Reconsider Spielberg's offer to play Indiana Jones in his upcoming remake of "Attack of the Killer Tomatoes".


• Continue my tireless crusade against the evils of communism, email spammers, and Cirque du Soleil.


• Play guitar more, complain less.


• Learn how to spell M. Night Shamalam, er, Shaymalian, er...whatever.


• Be a better swim coach...which means creating tougher workouts and designing harsher punishments for the slackers. Strive for 2011 to be known as "The Year of the 400 Butterfly".

Here's my report card:

Surfin' Bird restraint -- A+. (I'm pleased to report that I also had zero occurences of "It's a Small World" and "Muskrat Love". There were the occasional choruses of "Don't Fear the Reaper", but let's face it -- that one is often quite appropriate at staff meetings.)

Bionics -- C. I wasn't able to procure any nuclear-powered titanium joints, nor was I able to increase my range of motion despite repeated thinking about how I ought to be doing some stretching. But so far, my plan of running shorter distances more regularly seems to be delivering results. My running feels better than it has in a long time.

Speaking of which, I did join the USMS "Go the Distance" challenge, which features a "flog" (fitness log) section that provides a place to record all of your workouts. I'm planning to try to track my training, and thereby pick up the free stuff they give you when you reach certain milestones. The first award (a swim cap) comes when you've swum 50 miles, which I ought to be able to bang out in a couple of weeks.

Star Trek References -- D. OK, let's face it, everybody loves obscure Star Trek references. And seriously, if you can think of a way to discuss modern society without referring to Kirk, Spock, et al, well I'd like to hear about it. This was a misguided resolution to begin with, and should never have made my list. I can say with confidence that 2012's bloggery shall have as many Star Trek references as Khan has muscles. As for the blogs being entertaining, well, I'm sure there was at least one chuckle for every hair on Picard's head and one belly laugh for every Klingon who loves Tribbles.

Forgive the Irish -- B. I didn't run afoul of a single Irishman in 2011. I still prefer fingernails on a chalkboard to listening to U2, but I am no longer involved in the "Nuke Ireland" movement. (Actually, I may have confused that with the "Nuke Iran" movement anyway. But seriously, other than Iceland, are there any countries that start with "I" that anyone would miss?)

Killer Tomatoes -- Incomplete. In only takes two words to completely explain the tragic fate of the Indiana Jones franchise: Shia LeBouf.

Crusading for Good -- B-. I have not relented in my efforts to rid the world of these evils, but the results are not what I had hoped. I still get something like 400 spam emails each day, Cirque du Soleil is planning a show based on the cinema career of Gerard Depardeau, and Marxists are still whittling away at the foundations of capitalism. I'm hoping to see a return to American principles when November's election throws out the bums responsible for the decline of our society...but until then I can't say that we've made much progress. However, the fight goes on.

Guitar -- B+. My musical skills still don't quite measure up to Milli Vanilli or Jean Hagen, but I'm still working on it. And having fun!

Shamalamadingdong -- F. Um, I have no idea. But fortunately, nobody cares about this one.

Coaching cruelty -- B-. We have done a bit more fly, but I did not achieve my goal of making somebody cry at each and every workout. This will continue to be a work in progress throughout 2012. I'm also working on my maniacal laughter to help motivate the athletes. Bwahhh haaa haa ha!

Overall, I guess it wasn't a bad year. But next year will be better, I'm sure. Let me know if you have any suggestions for resolutions I should include in my upcoming list. In the meantime, have a great day!

Happy New Year!

Ah, it's time for a recap of 2011, and some thoughts about the upcoming year.

Why do we do this? After all, there's no real cosmic significance to the date of January 1st. Yes, a year is indeed a celestial occurrence -- the Earth has made a complete loop around the sun...but the "starting point" was chosen arbitrarily by some Roman or Greek dude, like, a million years ago. Who cares? Don't you think the solstice would make better sense as the date to celebrate a new year?

Doesn't matter, Terry...let it go. It's been this way for over 2,000 years, so I guess it's a tradition, just like eating M&Ms whenever there's a Hope/Crosby Road movie on TV. Or bowing your head in thanks whenever the Raiders are eliminated from the playoff picture. In any case, now is the time to talk about the year past and the year to come, so I guess I am obligated to do exactly that.

You'd think my college degree in Journalism would inspire me to do a little research to refresh my memory about 2011 before I delivered my recap. But no. I'm just going to wing it...which means that I'll only include stuff that happened in the past couple of months since I've already forgotten what happened before that.

So what were the biggest events in my life in 2011? Well, the biggest one would be the job change. I am so pleased that I had the opportunity to rejoin ITN Energy Systems, and am looking forward to being a part of a company that has such great potential for introducing world-changing energy technologies. It was fun to have been associated with folks who launch rockets and explore space, but it's also pretty cool to hang out with brilliant energy scientists, too.

I do miss working with my Lockheed Martin pals, and I especially miss the wonderful world of webcasting. But I may someday be able to do that sort of thing with ITN. We'll see.

The other big change was when Tanner moved to Seattle. I know I make fun of him a lot, but the truth is that I'm an enormously proud parent, and am confident that he'll be a successful adult. As much as I miss hanging out with him, I'm glad that he has struck out on his own and is doing well in his new location. It was great to see him over the Christmas break, and I wish I'd have had a bit more time with him. But he's back in Washington now, and if I want to see him again soon, I'll have to plan my own trip to the Great Northwest. Stay tuned for that.

Athletically, the biggest event was probably the Triple Bypass. The registration for the 2012 event opens tomorrow, but because it's so popular there's a lottery to get in. I'm not sure when I'll know whether I'm in or not. Whether I make it to that event or not, I do plan to do a lot of cycling this year.

I'm also planning to run more. I've had 3 weeks of running without injury, which I think is a modern-era record for me. I'm not sure what sorts of competitions I'll enter, but I expect to run in a race or two throughout the year.

In fact, I was planning to get a good leg workout this very morning, but it didn't really work out that way. There was a guided "nature hike" at Roxborough Park, which sounded interesting. But when I arrived at the park, I discovered that the trails were all hard-packed ice. The other hikers all had YakTrax or other shoe spikes, and were walking confidently while I was slippin' and slidin'. I ended up bailing out on that adventure, and went off to find another, less dangerous trail. But all I found were places that were better suited for Eric Heiden or Peggy Fleming than for Clouseau-esque goobers like me.

Oh well, it was a good day, regardless. I wish the weekend had a few more days in it. I did get all the laundry done, but have a few other chores to get to.

Anyway, back to plans for 2012 -- in addition to the runnin' and ridin', I do intend to swim in a few meets. I've also signed up for the USMS "Go the Distance" challenge, which rewards swim mileage with prizes and merchandise discounts. I've never been good at tracking my workouts, but I'll try it. (At least for a while.) The 100 x 100s event next Sunday will get my distance off to a pretty good start. There's also the 1-Hour Timed Swim event in January, and I may participate in that.

Beyond that, I guess I intend to just enjoy life. I may even attempt to become a bit more social...and might even try to figure out Facebook. (That is NOT a promise, though, so you can't hold me to it.) I intend to sleep well, eat heartily, enjoy music, and do my best to stay young and healthy. And I'll tackle a few things I have never done before, and promise to blog about them when I do.

And most of all, I intend to continue to enjoy the support and companionship I get from you, my friends. Let's challenge each other to have a fun and love-filled year, with all sorts of achievements and triumphs, OK? Thank you all for contributing to the rich and wonderful year I had in 2011. I have a very strong feeling that 2012 will be even better.

I hope you enjoyed all your holidays, and have begun January in the best possible way. Many adventures await as the next 12 months unfold. Let's all have a great year!