Thursday, January 10, 2013

Ramble On

I've spent almost 10 minutes thinking of a title for this and all I've done is drawn blanks. Sort of like how I've been with the whole blog thing over the past little while. I'm almost scared and hesitant to come back on here and write up a post; let's face it, I'm a boring dude with not much to share. By the end of this rant I hope to come up with a title of relevance. Like any good book, article, movie, magazine, Brazzers clip etc., the title must catch the reader/viewers attention. Django Unchained was a very relevant title. Once our boy Django was in fact unchained, he showed a level of beastmode, dominance and animosity which his other compadres lacked, ultimately making the title correspond directly with the actions about to unfold in the thick of things.

A few things have happened in the last little while.

I. Moved in with a couple bro-dudes at the start of December. I go way back with said bro-dudes to the early stages of life as we know it. Best buddies Spencer and Nick S. are my roommates right now and it's been quite the eye-opener thus far. Nick is allergic to Mayonnaise so we like to taunt and use this weakness against him. One morning a few of us were playing credit card roulette to see who would be buying the first couple cases of beer for the afternoon. Luckily my card was picked first because the darn thing was maxed out at the time due to some regretful and questionable purchases. Over the course of the afternoon and a few soda-pop's deep, we plotted a Mayo attack while our friend was at work. The plan involved dumping half a jar of Hellman's into a bowl and putting it under his bed (we thought this tactic would make his room smell musty, raunchy and have a sour, mayoey rank). Then we put the jar in his pillow case. NS woke up with a sore neck and a level of pistification that tipped 8 on the 10 level pistified scale. When I asked him what was wrong, he explained that some jackass put an industrial sized Mayonnaise bottle in his bed and a bowl of shit, under it. He would't investigate the remnants of the dish. We are such dicks. Spencer is quite the dude too. Don't let the amount of video games played in our house fool you, we're a bunch of athletes when we want to be. If I ever need a good laugh I just watch Spenny play xbox live. He puts the headset on and and gets very hostile with his opponents. Sometimes he even gets inches away from the TV whilst yelling at the top of his lungs, it always has me on the edge of my seat. We live in a great location. Minutes away from the bars, UWO and St. Josephs Hospital. Running in this neighbourhood is friggen' sweet too. I like running the streets of Old North because there's some pretty ballin' houses to look at. I like looking at these houses of ballin'-ness because one day I'm going to live in one.

II. I've decided to grow my hair out. I've always kept the noggin freshly shaven but I'm going for a trendier, more sophisticated, and all around hip appearance. I was also told by this chick that she liked this luscious new me. I'm using a nice gluey like wax to keep the flow groomed appropriately for any type of situation. The product is called Alberto European: Extreme Style, which has been appropriately named for a guy like me. The plan is to keep this hair growing until I can wrap it up like a Samurai warrior for some races in the near future. If I can mishmash that look with some eye paint and that thing Tarzan wears around his package, the intimidation factor would be through the roof. Or I could distinguish myself on the line of races as a pirate with long hair and a bandana, hair flapping graciously in the wind like some sort of exotic animal. A mix between a gazelle and a zebra, thats the look I'm going for.

III. Christmas came and Christmas went. Christmas was a majestic time of year until that asshole Matthew L. ruined it for me in grade 4 during a pizza lunch at school. I didn't like young Matthew to begin with because he would read novels at an incredible rate. Then he told me Santa Clause was a bust and my hatred for that douche grew immensely. Matthew is probably playing video games right now and yelling into the television, but he's far from an athlete like best buddy Spencer. The holidays were good though, saw some family, drank some beer, drank a lot of beer, ate way to much and just ran a lot. I love my entire family to death. Dad's side, Mom's side, damnit you're all beautiful human beings. Then New Years eve came and that's all I'll say about that. Glad to make it into 2013 though, those Mayan activists look like a bunch of big fat phonies now, don't they? Seriously though, If something jaw dropping did happen, I would survive no doubt about it. My good pal George has a woodsmen mentality. He puts that lame "Overly Manly Man" dude on Twitter to shame. He's got swords and bows and crazy objects that would have us fit for a hunter gatherers type of lifestyle. The dude fights for a living and was born in the jungle, you can throw an alien or solar flare at us Mr. Mayan, we will kill both of you.

IV. Running has been boring for the last 6 weeks. There has been a lot of running but there hasn't been any substance to it. Just rolling my ass out of bed at 6am, heading out for a 5mile jaunt, then putting in another 10-12 miles later in the afternoons. I'm trying to mirror the life of an elite distance runner right now, while having the god given ability of an amateur. My days go something like this. Wake up, coffee, run. Come home, eat. Head to the gym. Go home to eat and nap. Awake from (normally a shitty) nap and run for longer. Then I'll cook up some dinner which usually consists of peanut butter and banana on toast with a side of raisin bran. Depending if I'm feeling bold or not, I'll head to the gym for a second time. I'm bold more often than not.

If I'm running on the treadmill at the gym, I'll usually get the look from several on-lookers around the facility. I'll get the "Why is that kid running hes already 120 pounds, go lift a weight" look. The "Why is that kid running so fast, he's only gonna last two minutes at that pace" look. The "Holy frig, that dude on the treadmill keeps ripping loud farts, how hasn't he shit himself" look. And finally, the "He's wearing half-tights and has shaved legs, dude is definitely a queer" look. In the time I'm not eating, performing physical activity, or sleeping, I generally mix in a couple teeth brushings, a poop, a couple pee's, a whole lot of twittering, and some good laughs with my idiot best friends.

In these 6 weeks I've been working up the base mileage and callousing these young legs to get strong and prepared for the training around the corner. Like any young and stupid runner, I've grown fascinated with 23 year-old Canadian stud, Cam Levins. Levins runs about 180 miles a week, which is close to 300km. So I tried running 200km a few weeks ago and that shit flat out sucked. There is simply not enough time in the day to even drive this far let alone get out the door and run it. I backed off that insane bogus and have been putting in 100mile weeks which is still a very aggressive move. These runs are nothing special and there hasn't been any type of workouts involved in them, but I think my body is responding well to the volume and I'm looking forward to my first workout on the track this coming Monday. The big race will be near the end of May. It's 10,000m around the track at TD Waterhouse Stadium. Other than that, I'm gonna get back to the doll house town of Burlington on March 3rd and try and dip under 70 minutes for the half-marathon. Along the way I'm gonna jump in some short road races and the odd track race. I want to get my ass kicked so bad on the track because a good reality check is just the thing I need.

V. My dad proposed an offer to take me on a trip of a lifetime. When he said China, I thought what the hell. I am a big advocate of Asian cuisine, and the Great Wall would definitely be a boner-worthy experience. I took Papa Lu up on his once in a lifetime offer, and we're trekking all over that place at the end of April. Before departing, I will likely have to brush up on some skills. My chop-stick game is horrendous and most likely sinful in the eyes of Chinese locals. Every time I'm grubbing out at some Asian joint I can see fire in the eyes of the waiters when I ask for North American cutlery. I don't know a lic of Cantonese, Taiwanese or Mandarin. I'm bankin' on my little friend Cheuk Leung to teach me the swear words, you need to know the swear words. I think I can use some transferrable skills while I'm over there, however. I like to spend money on toys and I hear toys are dirt cheap over there. I know Tae Kwon Do, so I can defend myself in the event of a Triad related ambush. I know Gangnam Style when I'm drunk. I can take good Instagram photo's of Shanghai and Bangkok. I'm going to become cultural and diverse. I'm going to conquer that wall.

VI. I've removed myself from the college scene. It was a good go coming back in the fall to race another season and win a Canadian college cross country championship. The motivation however came to an end after we locked that thing up and I wanted to finish off the semester and do other things. I will most likely pick it back up in the fall, but until then I'm content with making some money and running like hell. Since I'm not back at the college, I'm making the most of my money making ability (sort of) and training. I'm trying to become a god damn specimen and freak. I'm trying to re-invent myself in every way possible, from cleaning the dishes with precision and finesse, to taking out the garbage in a timely fashion, with a smile on my face. I'm upping my cooking game from cereal at every meal to the odd chicken on a sauce pan grilled with veg and spices. I'm getting good core strength lately and I'm looking to achieve a 12 pack ab ensemble because I think girls like abs and I want more abs then the normal ab sporting male. Abs are such a lame thing to talk about but runner's need those things.

VII. We are still figuring out who won man of the year for 2012. Theres so many strong candidates and it's making the final decision a very tough one. There is Frito Lay delivery guru, Nick Russell, mentioned on here before for his uncanny behaviour and ability to drink, dance, and destroy anything that doesn't belong to him. Corey Gutjahr, whose actions must be kept to ourselves. Dane Moffatt, the banker, mechanic, and general piece of work. And finally, Nick Spitters. Bloody hell I think the whole city likes the kid and he can talk to anyone. All our buddies are fairly close-minded when it comes to meeting new souls, yet Nick has the ability to make best friends with any crack head on the street. Mayo allergy or not, he's got my vote. And he tops it all off with a hair-doo that accurately resembles Ace Ventura in this memorable clip:

I'll stop there cause I don't know any more Roman numerals and I don't want to cheat by using google. A couple days ago I was a mile into a run when I passed by a long lost buddy at a bus stop. I didn't notice him until he yelled and I thought it was another jackass with the words run forest run about to come out of his mouth. I looked back and there was old buddy Delo. Hadn't see this dude in a while so it was cool seeing him there all hipster-esque waiting for the bus. So we said a couple things and I went back about my business. Yesterday I'm playing some xbox with our intense gamer buddy Spence and Delo walks in the door with M.O.T.Y. Candidate Corey G. It was the weirdest thing ever cause I went from not seeing him in years, to seeing him twice in two days, and now hes in my house. This story is really dumb but I'm mentioning young Delo because I know hes gonna be reading this and he put perspective into my eyes yesterday. He is pretty grown up now, wearing nice clothes, not having hair like Kraemer from Seinfeld anymore, sporting some Ralph Lauren spec's (which I think are for show) and an all around professional demeanor to the guy. The kid is more focused and intelligent than most people I know, surprising after he was the one encouraging me to funnel that bottle of red wine (*see post below about Campanle Basement Massacre) back in the day. Delo told me that when I ran by it was a thing of beauty, like a horse galloping 60km an hour and that he couldn't stop watching. He told me that I am a "get shit done" type of dude and that what I do is what 99% of people living cannot. In hindsight, Delo was pumping my tires to the fullest extent and told me to get after what I want. He explained that If I applied my work ethic in running to every facet of life, I would be a successful person, without a doubt. Delo is moving out to Calgary in May to start making some real dough and get his shit together. Delo: you best be knowing that I'm visiting your punk ass in Calgary and Pinnacle Peak when you're down in Arizona. Get after it kid.

 I ran with my mom this morning and followed it up with a coffee at Starbucks. I can really get into this routine because I like my mom, early mornings, and coffee. Today she encouraged me to travel and go work in various places. After my 10,000 on the track, that's just what I'm gonna do.

Stay good everyone, God has a plan for you.

About that title...couldn't figure it out

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