Monday, September 28, 2015

Check Back Tomorrow

Hello dear readers, as I've said here before I am still trying to figure out how to make this whole running/weight loss thing fit into my new schedule.  One of the things I'm still trying to work in is time to complete my weekly blog post.  I do have a post for this week but it needs tweaking before it will be ready for public consumption.  So check back tomorrow for your regular Monday dose of 26.2 Eventually!

Monday, September 21, 2015

My Bra Has A German Accent

I have a confession to make.  I made an egregious error in my last post.  Not so much an error as an omission that I am honor bound to correct.  

Super Obese stands defeated.  Hans Gruber would have blown up the building.  

Oops.  My bad.  Now I must retreat to my Fortress of Solitude and brood whilst I lick my wounds.  Of course Super Obese's fortress is less a remote icy cave and more a blanket fort in the living room.  Instead of memory crystals that allow communication with the memory of my dead alien father (mostly because Dad is a) very much alive b) not -  to my knowledge -  an alien and c) very easily accessible by cell phone) there would be a laptop to binge watch Netflix, a copy of Hey! It's That Guy! and takeout menus for sustenance.  Perhaps I've thought about this too much.  

Other than that it's been an OK week.  Down 2.8 pounds which brings me to a total of 7 pounds down!  I wasn't so hot with the running, except in the temperature sense (since when is it normal to be 90 degrees in September??) but I got it together by the end of the week.  I work more hours some weeks than I do others and I have trouble fitting in my workouts when it's busier.  I suspect that the solution to this is to (cue stage whisper) exercise in the mornings but I find that idea abhorrent.  I am, to put it mildly, not a morning person.  The longest relationship I've ever been in is my ongoing love affair with my snooze button (his name is Harold).  My friend J and I were roommates for two years in college and she used to say I was too cheerful in the morning because I would smile and say "good morning!" to her every morning.  That is purely some kind of politeness reflex because I can tell you there's nothing else there for at least an hour.  You could offer me a million dollars or tell me the building was on fire and I would smile and say "good morning!".  I've tried to be a person who does productive things in the morning and Harold wins every time.  Thus it has been, thus it ever shall be.

(warning to people who might be my Dad: here be bra talk again)

Getting back into running meant a trip back to Fleet Feet for some shoes, Bondi bands, Body Glide, and a sports bra fitting.  I've told the story of my conversion to belief in $50 sports bras before.  This time I mean to take care of the girls properly from the beginning.  I've got Maias in a variety of sizes but the largest one is still just a teeny bit too small and also falling apart from so much repeated use.  So, to Fleet Feet.  It turns out the Maia doesn't come in a bigger size than the one I have.  I bought another one anyway knowing I'll be able to use it eventually but in the meantime I was talked into the Enell, which astute readers will remember is Oprah's sports bra of choice.  It closes in the front with about a frojillion (read: 20) little bra hooks - the first time I tried it I found it overwhelming but this time I persevered and closed the damn thing.  My God.  I could not have jiggled my boobs if my life depended on it.  If the Maia was Goebbels the Enell is the entire Gestapo holding the girls hostage.  

(side note:  I have no idea why my bras are German.  They just are.  Much like Nigel was British and Harold - despite his name - is Spanish.  You may have noticed I have a tendency to anthropomorphise things.  I also name my cars.  To think Mom worried about me when I was a kid because I never named any of my stuffed animals.) 

Anyway, I've taken the Enell on its first run and so far it's acceptable.  It may be a little too restrictive, to describe it in very highly technical terms it does more squooshing and less lifting than the Maia so by the end the girls were a little air hungry.  I'm hoping this will sort itself out once I've washed it a few times.  I will let you know.  For now, it's time for the return of the 

Best Non-Running Related Discovery This Week:

Kumail Nanjiani's The X-Files Files podcast.  My history of choosing TV shows based on the attractiveness of the male lead goes back a long way.  Sophia and I were huge X-Files fans back in the day.  This guy is hilarious and also a ginormous X-Files fan.  He's totally my kind of nerd.  During the first podcast they talk about how their first viewing was all about Mulder (granted they were more into the mythology than they were into the eye candy) and how on a second viewing 20 years later they realized that Scully actually has the much more interesting character arc.  Watching in my 30's I was much less (OK, not that much less) distracted by the cute guy and really had a chance to appreciate that underneath the ugly power suits Scully was a total badass.  I have a feeling I'm going to enjoy this.

What's On Tap for This Week:
Monday: 19 minute run (done!!)
Tuesday: 24 minute walk
Wednesday: 21 minute run
Thursday: 26 minute walk
Friday:  off
Saturday: 1.5 mile run

Wish me luck and as always, if you find me collapsed in a heap on the side of the road, do the decent thing and at least offer me a ride home!

Monday, September 14, 2015

Goonies Never Say Die

So Lord Helmet, at last we meet again, for the first time, for the last time.  

OK I'm out of 80's movie quotes.  But I'm back.  Again.  No, again.  Yes, really.    

One wonders how many times one person can start the same journey.  This is not really a record I was interested in setting.  I much prefer the kind where I PR both my 1 mile and 1K in the same week, given the option.

So... where have I been?  It's been a few years.  Suffice it to say I have not been using the time to improve my running pace, but I can say with certainty that I am caught up on my TV movies and Netflix binging (Orange is the New Black is my new obsession).  But how did I get here?  In October of 2013, I had lost 95 pounds and I ran a half marathon.  I was on top of the world, and I could conquer anything.  I had kicked Mr. Morbidly to the curb.  (Never fear, Super Obese is still here to save the world the next time Hans Gruber says "the bomb will go off unless you can name ten TV leading men and list them in order of attractiveness based only on the way their arms look in a tight T-shirt!" - for the record - number one and number two.  It's nice to know some things will never change.  You need Supernatural trivia, I'm your woman.)  Then it all fell apart.  I slowly gained all the weight back, I stopped running, and suddenly (or not so suddenly) I wasn't on top of the world anymore.  I wasn't moving on, I was going backwards.  If we continue the mountain/yodeling analogy, I got halfway up and then made a choice to turn back.  It would be much easier to say I was wiped out by a mudslide or an avalanche and couldn't reach the top but that's not the truth.  I turned around and walked all the way back down to the bottom and then started digging a hole for myself down there.  

The worst feeling in the world is to let yourself down.  

To make matters worse, I've never abandoned a challenge like this before.  I've always been willing to set goals and work hard to achieve them.  Generally it takes me a while to commit to something - I never did anything about my weight for years because I wasn't ready to commit and I didn't want to pretend - but once I decide on a goal I always do what it takes to get there.  Except this time.  

After all my hard work went to waste I started to wonder - was it even worth it to try again?  Maybe I should just accept my life as a morbidly obese person and move on.  After all, my life is pretty great.  I'm smart, I'm funny, I'm self-sufficient, I have a wonderful family and great friends.  I've achieved everything I've ever set my mind to, including a half marathon.  Maybe it was time to find some different goals.  I could do anything.  Except ride a roller coaster.  Except sit in a restaurant booth.  Except cross my legs.  




Here's the truth of it.

I really, really miss this girl:

That girl was on top of the world.  That girl was smart, funny, self-sufficient, had a wonderful family and great friends and she achieved everything she ever set her mind to, including a half-marathon.  That girl hadn't abandoned herself halfway up a mountain.  That girl was setting more goals.  She wanted to run a full marathon.  She wanted to take up roller derby.  She wanted to run faster and further.  She could go on any amusement park ride she wanted and not think twice.  She didn't worry whether she would be denied the ability to fly in an airplane.  She didn't need seat belt extenders.  She didn't worry about what the weight limit was on a chair before sitting down.  She could wear knee high boots.  She could run up a few flights of stairs effortlessly.  She had low cholesterol.  She had low blood pressure.  She was looking forward to the birth of her nephew and didn't worry that she wouldn't be able to keep up with him.  She was amazed by the idea that he would never remember her as a fat person - she would be his Aunty who ran marathons.  She was healthy enough to have her own kids if she wanted, and they would never remember her as a fat person either.

Here's what it took me a long time to realize.  I'm still that girl.  I've always been that girl, at least on the inside.  I may not look like her on the outside anymore but she's still in here.  I can still be the Aunty who runs marathons.  If I start now my nephew will never remember me as a fat person, and neither will my theoretical future children.  I just have to do the work that it takes to match the inside to the outside.  

Let's be clear - it's a lot of work.  There are a year's worth of blog posts here from 2013 that are a testament to just how much work.  It's a lifetime of work.  There's a reason why when you hit your goal weight they make you a Lifetime Member.  I will always have to keep track of what I eat and make sure I get enough activity.  There's no way anybody can do that much work unless they want to do it.  The good news is I can finally say I'm in a place where I want it again.  I had to forgive myself the past before I could move on to the future.  In true INFP fashion it took a while.  INFPs are almost never mad at their friends, but piss them off enough and they will cut you out entirely.  I had to let myself back in before I could find the girl in the picture again.

But she's back.  I'm back.  A few weeks into Weight Watchers and now a full week into running again.  I've already committed to a 5K in October and possibly another half marathon in May.  I'm running about a 16:30 mile, which is slower than I was at my best, but faster than I was at my worst (my first mile ever took over 18 minutes).  I'm running without walk breaks this time which is something I wasn't able to do before until I was running 9 miles at at time.  More on that next week, and I'll update you all on what's changed with Weight Watchers in the last year (spoiler alert: not much).  I promise the return of my usual snark next week (it got all serious up in here again, didn't it?)

To the girl in the picture:  I'm sorry I left you halfway up a mountain.  Want to come with me and see the top?

What's On Tap for This Week:
Monday: off
Tuesday: 15 minute run
Wednesday: 20 minute walk
Thursday: 17 minute run
Friday: 22 minute walk
Saturday: 1.25 mile run
Sunday: 30 minute walk

Wish me luck and as always, if you find me collapsed in a heap on the side of the road, do the decent thing and at least offer me a ride home!

Monday, March 9, 2015

Just Checking In

To say there is a post coming this week but it will be a little late.  Life kinda got away from me this week.  Post should be up tomorrow or Wednesday at the latest.   See you then!

Saturday, February 28, 2015

The Return of Super Obese

Tap... tap... is this thing on?? Hello? (insert sound of blowing dust here)

Hello again. I'm back! In more ways than one. Did you miss me?

My last post was over a year ago. So what have I been up to in the last year?

377.2 pounds.  That's what I've been up to (pun absolutely intended).

Astute readers (if there are any of you left) will note that is actually 1.6 pounds heavier than I was when I jumped on the Weight Watchers bandwagon in the first place.  BMI is now 51.2.  Super Obese is in the house (Here I come to save the day!!!!).  Obviously I have fallen off the bandwagon.  And then it ran over me.  Twice. 

So what happened?  The honest answer is the same as it's always been.  I'm lazy, I'm lazy, I'm lazy and I'm lazy.  This is not really breaking news, in fact my last blog post a year ago was about my laziness.  

At first I blamed this on my "new" job (after a year and a half it's not really new anymore).  As it turns out, it's really really easy to eat well and exercise when you're between jobs and broke.  My planned six week between jobs hiatus stretched to twelve weeks due to some paperwork issues and toward the end I had groceries, a Weight Watchers membership and no money for anything else.  My house was immaculate (well, OK, "immaculate" by my standards which is probably only "kind of clean" for actual neat people).  I ran every day just so I could get out of the house.  I cooked elaborate meals for myself.  I took up knitting.  I watched every episode of everything Joss Whedon has ever done except for Dollhouse.  I was so bored I washed the windows*, for Pete's sake.  I became Martha Stewart's younger, fatter, and slightly less crazy sister.  

*To give you a sense of the seriousness of this statement, I submit to you that Mom and I have actually had the following conversation.

Me: "can I call you back in 15 minutes?  I'm scrubbing the tub."
Mom: "why?  Is someone coming over?"

Suffice it to say, if I'm washing the windows, there is literally nothing else left to do.  

Then I went back to working my usual 80 hours a week.  The time commitment was not new, but I did have to adjust to working those 80 hours on a different and slightly less structured schedule than I had been used to.  At first I was maintaining.  At the end of my first week of work I ran a half marathon.  I was on top of the world.  Then I stopped packing my lunches every day.  Enter the cafeteria.  Then I didn't make it to the gym quite as often.  Then not at all.  Enter the couch potato.  Then I missed a few Weight Watchers meetings.  Enter the pounds creeping back on, just a little bit here and there at first.  Then I stopped grocery shopping (no food in my house has historically been the kiss of death for me).  And then suddenly last week the lady at Taco Bell said to me "you want your usual, honey?" and I was 377.2 pounds.

Yes, it was an adjustment but the truth is I used it as an excuse to give up everything I had worked so hard for.  Because it's easier to watch Netflix than it is to run five miles.  It's easier to pick up Taco Bell than to spend my Saturday slicing vegetables.  It's easier to buy lunch in the cafeteria than it is to pack it every morning and remember to bring my lunch bag home every day.  It's easier to buy regular Coke in the cafeteria than it is to supply my own unsweetened iced tea.  It's easier, and Lord knows I'm a sucker for easy.

Easier, but not better.  Whatever my size, I've always had a pretty great life.  I have a wonderful family, great friends and a great job.  I'm an independent and self-sufficient woman who makes my own decisions.  I've been blessed with a well developed sense of humor that allows me to appreciate both terrible made for TV movies as well as yodeling.  I'm secure in the knowledge that I can look good at any size.  But the truth is my life is better when I'm thinner.  I'm healthier.  I have more energy.  I can wear awesome boots.  I can shop anywhere I want.  I can run 13.1 miles.  And I want that part of my life back.  

So here I am again.  I know what I need to do.  And I know I can do this.  I can do this.  I can do thisI can do this.  I can do this.  I can do this.  I can do this.  Feel free to join me.  Again.

Best Non-Running Related Discovery This Week:  Parenthood.  Despite the almost total lack of eye candy (I am decidedly not a Dax Shepard fan), I'm hooked.

What's On Tap For This Week:
Saturday:  off
Sunday:  10 minutes
Monday:  15 minutes 
Tuesday:  13 minutes 
Wednesday:  off
Thursday:  18 minutes
Friday:  1 mile

Wish me luck, and as always if you find me collapsed in a heap on the side of the road, do the decent thing and at least offer me a ride home!

Monday, February 10, 2014

Bruno Mars' Lazy Song Is Better Than Mine

Weeks 45-55… umm…  well, the time went by so technically I can say complete, right?  Whoo-hoo?  

So clearly I've been gone for a while.  Again.  It's not really that I've had nothing to say, it's just that none of it has been good, inspiring, and/or humorous.  The truth is I fell off the healthy lifestyle wagon in a big way.  It's taken me a while to figure out exactly what to say here now that I've gotten back on.  I hate reading these kinds of posts so it was hard to contemplate writing one.  I could offer you a lot of excuses (new job!  new nephew!  holidays!  abducted by aliens!  too many compelling made for TV movies!  worldwide salad shortage!  held captive by killer rabbits!) but the truth is the same as it always is.  I'm lazy and when I don't manage my laziness in the right way it has consequences.  

The first way I didn't manage my laziness in the right way is that I became Old Mother Hubbard incarnate.

This is my refrigerator after I cleaned out everything that was moldy or expired.  As you can see, I had beer, cheese and chocolate sauce left over.  Much as I love me some beer-cheese soup, this refrigerator does not exactly support a healthy lifestyle.  Trust me when I say the cupboards and the freezer did not fare much better.  Not having enough readily prepared food is always my downfall.  I do occasionally enjoy cooking when I have the time but most days I'm unwilling to spend more than 10 minutes putting together a meal.  Any longer than that and I'm looking for the nearest place that has a drive through.  This is why the people at Taco Bell and I are such good friends, not because I'm such a huge fan of the chicken quesadilla (although seriously?  yum!) but because I can get it in ten minutes or less.  This is why salads and I are usually such good friends.  As it happens, I genuinely like salads, and with a little bit of advance planning I can make one in ten minutes or less.  In the past I've been (mostly, with only occasional tears) successful at spending an hour or two after I go grocery shopping slicing and dicing my fruits and veggies to make this possible but that has fallen by the wayside since December.  Ditto the frozen marinated chicken I used to make, handy for the <10 minute salad and also great for packing lunches and dinners for work.  As soon as my refrigerator was empty I slipped back into my old habits of picking something up on my way home from work and buying food in the cafeteria.  I'm not going to lie, it's easier to eat that way.  All that's required of me is to drive past a window or wait in line, hand over some money and presto!  Instant dinner.  It's easier but it's not exactly sustainable in a life that doesn't include a myocardial infarction before I turn 50.  In the interest of retaining all my functioning heart muscle for as long as possible, I spent my Saturday (and $380.11 - seriously, don't ever let your cabinets get so empty you have to start from scratch) doing this:

And this:

Astute readers will note that the only form of food in my refrigerator that I can risk putting into drawers is the cheese.  If fruits and veggies are not immediately visible and pre-cut I will let them decay into unidentifiable mush in the crisper and head immediately to Burger King.  But I'm pretty sure I would lead a dogsled expedition to Antarctica if that were the only way to get cheese for my salad.  It's all about having the proper motivation, right?

Refusal to participate in food prep is only one way in which I got lazy.  The second way I let laziness take over my life was getting off my marathon training program.  It started innocently enough with a combination of bad weather and my nephew being born that kept me out of the gym for a week.  (Did I mention I have a nephew now?  Because I do.  And he's the cutest thing ever, being an aunty is awesome and I highly recommend it to anyone who hasn't tried it.  Go right out and encourage your siblings to procreate, I'll wait.  It's especially fun if you're like me and have a penchant for buying baby clothes.  They're so cute!  And matchy!  And nothing I buy him will ever make him look fat.  Way more fun than buying clothes for adults.  But I digress.  Again.  Should I need to refer to him here again he will be known as Little Man.)  I could blame the rest on weather, and work, and being trapped in my house by a sadistic torturer who forced me to watch Supernatural on Netflix, and the butterfly effect and blah, blah, blah, but that would be a lie.  Truthfully I am lazy and it's a lot easier not to go to the gym.  I wasn't as bad with this as I was with the diet, but still nowhere near as good as I've been in the past, and it shows.  I had to take a walk break during a 2 mile run last week for the first time in a very long time.  Initially I felt bad about that but then I remembered that when I started this I was walking ten minutes at a time.  I can't let myself feel too badly about stopping to walk for a minute while running at a 12:00 pace, can I?  I'm still in a much better place than I was before, but it's scary to think how quickly I could get back there again.  

The third way I didn't manage my laziness well is that I stopped tracking what I was eating.  At some point I became a person who thought I didn't need to track anymore.  I've always been a creature of habit (read: I eat the same thing every day.  This actually has very little to do with my willingness to eat a variety of foods and more to do with my aforementioned laziness.  I'm actually quite an adventurous eater, provided that someone else is preparing it for me.) and I found myself tracking the same meals day in and day out.  So I stopped, because I "didn't need to" anymore.  I could keep track of it in my head, natch.  Then, well, see above re: Old Mother Hubbard and Taco Bell.

The fourth way I didn't manage my laziness well is that I stopped going to Weight Watchers meetings.  This was not something I intended to do, meeting are the thing that works the best to keep me accountable.  Some people find WW works better for them online but I have found that the meetings are very helpful for me.  Something about having to physically leave my house and stand on a scale in front of the receptionist makes it much more real for me.  When I have a bad week going to the meetings reminds me why I am doing this in the first place.  Unfortunately, to quote John Lennon (badly), life is what happens when you're busy making other plans.  I missed several meetings due to work, car, and cat issues.  By the time I got around to going back, I'd already slipped into Old Mother Hubbard/Taco Bell territory and the news on the scale was not good.  To be clear, I didn't expect the news on the scale to to be good - you read the bits about the takeout and the less gym time and the not tracking right?  It doesn't matter how good your diet plan is, if you don't follow it, it can't work for you.  My biggest pet peeve in the weight loss community are the people who "can't figure out" why they can't lose weight when they don't track, don't exercise and generally don't follow whatever weight loss plan they've chosen.  My point is, I knew it was going to be bad news, but I really didn't want to go to a meeting, face down the receptionist and find out exactly how bad, you know?  I succumbed to thinking "I'll be good this week, if I don't weigh in until next week it'll be better".  

The fifth way I didn't manage my laziness well is that I stopped blogging.  Sharing my story here is the second way I keep myself accountable.  My thanks to the many of you who asked about why I had stopped updating, I've never been anonymous in the way that a lot of weight loss bloggers are.  The majority of my readers are people I know in real life and I appreciate the folks who took the time to ask.  The truth is not that I'm ashamed to share any of this with you because I'm not.  Lots of people stumble and have setbacks and I'm willing to see this as a bump in the road on my journey.  I take responsibility for my mistakes, forgive myself, and move forward.  This blog post was a long time coming because I had a really hard time trying to decide how to say "oops, I did it again" and still make it interesting to read.  Perhaps I should have just posted a link to Britney Spears and left it at that.  These are my least favorite blog posts to read because they're usually boring and full of excuses.  I can't do much about the boring part, but I think I can safely say there are no excuses.  Only the consequences of my laziness.

Speaking of consequences, let's look at this by the numbers.  It's been ten weeks since I last posted here and in that time I've attended a grand total of four Weight Watchers meetings.  I've gained 22.6 pounds, putting me back up at 302.4 pounds.  In addition to creeping back up above 300 pounds, my BMI is now 41 and I am morbidly obese again.  I've gone from 95.8 pounds lost to just 73.2, which means I've lost this:

My 75 pound charm.  Ouch.  It hurt taking it off but I don't believe in carrying WW bling I haven't earned.

Doesn't my keychain look lonely without it?  With a little luck, I'll have earned it back in a week or two, for now it's tucked away where I won't lose it.  

As I said earlier, I'm not wasting time beating myself up over this, it isn't worth it.  I made mistakes, I forgive myself, and I'm moving forward.  It does serve as a sobering reminder of how quickly I could get back up to 375 pounds if I let myself.  I knew going into this that I was going to have to make a permanent change.  I was going to have to accept tracking my food intake as a permanent part of my life.  My unwillingness to do this is the major reason I hadn't made any serious weight loss attempts prior to this.  I knew I was going to have to go to meetings.  I was going to have to make exercise a permanent part of my day.  When I was doing those things, I had amazing success and as soon as I stopped my health took a backslide.  My clothes don't fit anymore.  I donated all the clothes I had that got too big and I'm thankful I did because not being able to zip my pants serves as a hard and fast reminder that things are getting out of hand.  I can't run as far as I could before without taking a break.  It's no ten minute walk, but it could be again if I don't make a change.  I made mistakes, I forgive myself, and I'm moving forward.  

This experience has also highlighted one thing about my healthier lifestyle choices that I'm not thrilled with.  Even at 375 pounds, the scale has never made me apprehensive before.  I've never actively wanted to avoid weighing in, even when I had a bad week.  Granted this was more like a bad two months, but I dislike feeling that the number on the scale has any effect on my self-worth.  Because it doesn't.  I am not a number.  I am not a clothes size.  I am the same person now that I was 13 months ago when I started Weight Watchers.  I will be the same person when I make it to my goal weight, just a little bit smaller, capable of running 26.2 miles and hopefully able to make it into my 40's free of diabetes, heart disease and high blood pressure.  I've never been defined by what I see in the mirror and I refuse to start now. 

Best Non-Running Related Discovery This Week:
My new mandolin slicer.  I have no idea how I lived without this before.  It cut my fruit and veggie slicing time in half!  This means I will spend 50% less time in tears when contemplating doing my weekly shopping.  A word of warning, the safety devices are there for a reason.  Use them incorrectly and this will happen to you too:

What's On Tap For This Week:  much like Inigo Montoya, I am going back to the beginning.  (I am also not left-handed).
Sunday: off
Monday: 3 mile run
Tuesday:  20 minute Fartlek
Wednesday: off
Thursday: 2 mile run
Friday:  off
Saturday:  3 mile run

Wish me luck and as always, if you find me collapsed in a heap on the side of the road, do the decent thing and at least offer me a ride home!

Monday, November 25, 2013

Keeping My Word

Week 44 Complete!  Whoo-hoo!

I don't have much to say this week, but in the interest of keeping my promise not to skip any more weekly updates, here I am!  Down 0.6 pounds this week, which is a step in the right direction, if not a particularly large one.  I almost missed the opportunity to report this to you because I slept through my weight watchers meeting this week.  I got too engrossed in reading the new Jim Henson biography (definitely this week's Best Non-Running Related Discovery), fell asleep reading until 2am and forgot to set my alarm for Saturday morning.  Oops.  At least I missed it doing something I really enjoyed.  

Growing up, I loved Jim Henson.  I was raised on Sesame Street and the Muppet Show.  Fraggle Rock was the only show my sister and I could agree on when we watched TV together.  He was the first person I ever really connected with on an artistic level and he died young and tragically.  He said "When done right, it's possible to be silly and subversive at the same time" and he was right.  People will listen to serious opinions if they are expressed with a sense of humor.  He also understood the fundamental truth that explosions make everything funnier (see also: Wyle E. Coyote).  If Joss Whedon is the guy I want to have a beer with, Jim Henson is the guy I want entertaining my grandchildren.  If you are at all a fan of the Muppets I highly recommend this book.  It's fascinating to learn what went into developing some of the world's most beloved characters.  Did you know Kermit didn't start out as a frog?  He was made out of Jim Henson's mother's blue felt coat and ping pong balls.  Both he and Miss Piggy were were originally developed as sort of background Muppets for other characters.  Miss Piggy was voiced by Richard Hunt before eventually becoming Frank Oz's signature character.  The first karate chop she ever gave Kermit was an ad-lib and from that ad-lib one of the world's greatest one-sided interspecies love affairs was born.  (Frank Oz re: the aforementioned love affair "She loves the frog - my God, how she covets that little green body! - but the frog doesn't love her.")  Warning: if you are anything like me when you read this you may find yourself yelling "Bork, Bork, Bork!" and/or humming the Fraggle Rock theme song at inopportune times.  I'm still reading through the mid '70's and as such haven't gotten to my favorite Muppet production of all time, John Denver and the Muppets: A Christmas Together yet.  I won't be responsible for my actions if any light is shed on any of John Denver's truly spectacular fashion choices or if I find out who all the children in the audience are.  Full disclosure: the fact that this particular Christmas special doesn't exist on DVD is the main reason why I still have a VCR.  I dust it off once a year to watch the same cruddy VHS copy my parents taped off the Disney Channel sometime in the mid 80's.  Every year I have a brief moment of sheer panic believing that either the tape or the machine will have finally crumbled into dust.  I tried recording my VHS to DVD once and unfortunately the quality was so terrible I couldn't tell where John Denver's stylin' blonde bowl cut ended and Miss Piggy's coiffed blonde 'do began.  (Side note:  anybody who can locate me a good quality DVD or blu ray version will win the title of Most Awesome Person I Know as well as making it the Best Christmas Ever.)  But I digress.  Just read the book.  You won't regret it.  

What's On Tap For This Week:
Sunday: off
Monday:  30 minute walk
Tuesday:  3 mile run
Wednesday: 20 minute Fartlek
Thursday: 3 mile run
Friday:  off
Saturday: 4 mile run

Wish me luck and as always, if you find me collapsed in a heap on the side of the road, do the decent thing and at least offer me a ride home!