A Year in the Making

Yesterday was Sunday and I woke up with the nastiest hangover I've had in a while. Making this hangover even worse was an 8+ hour bus ride from Montreal back to London ahead of me. Today is Monday and I woke up with a pounding headache. Busses and hangovers suck a lot, and so do Monday migraines. One may argue that these two days should be erased and forgotten about. But for me, these two days have rocked so far. I should probably be in class right now getting caught up on everything I've put on hold for the past 2 months, but I think I'll log some computer time and get this blog up. I do it for my fans...

I would love to see the facial expressions of the people pooping next to my stall at the Stop-And-Go yesterday afternoon. Not because I was ripping stinky toots or playing battle shits with those poor confused bastards, but because of my violent vomiting and cursing in that unfortunate stall. What did that toilet do to deserve that sort of punishment? I think I cracked the porcelain. We had a pretty nifty celebration Saturday night and I was paying the price big time. My good pal George says it best; A man at night is a man in the morning. I wasn't a man in either situation. I went from a drunken school girl to a walking puddle in a matter of hours. I was green. I had the mouth-sweats. I was a bag of hammers.

The benefits of being a runner, or any athlete involved in a vigorous training regimen, is that they generally become a very cheap drunk. I remember in highschool I could demolish 26 ounces of poisonous rum, shotgun 15 cans of beer in a 90 minute window (Fubar style), funnel bottles of wine, etc. At 5 foot 7, 132 pounds, I am now lucky enough to start achieving the funny affects after 2-3 beers...running lots of miles has definitely made me a huge lightweight but my wallet is quite content. Before I became a runner I was a very immature person and now I don't have an ounce of immaturity in my body. In my grade 10 rebel days I went to my 8am welding exam with a bottle of red wine in my backpack. The plan after the exam was to go celebrate the start of summer and the shenanigans that were about to unfold on that soon-to-be horrific day. At approximately 11am, I had that bottle of red wine poured into a funnel and pointed to my throat, with a circle of cheering imbeciles chanting for me to conquer the alcohol. I opened my valve, released my thumb, cheers'd to the sky and started chugging. What a great idea at the time! I felt like an unstoppable machine with my buddies baseball medals on, marker all over my face, dancing gracefully for these laughing fools. That ended up being the worst afternoon of my life and Lisa and Sam Campanale's basement walls took a beating when my guts layered them in what would be known as the Campanale Basement Massacre. My past was pretty pathetic. Present day Josh is much more mature than that.

This blog has gotten a decent number of pageviews which gives me a lot of confidence. All the confidence I can get is very important because my lackluster appearance doesn't provide me with this quality. I like to think that these pageviews come from a population of many different and interested blog inquirers, but in hindsight, it's probably just the same 4 people who read it a thousand times over again. If you are reading this, chances are you're a friend of mine, runner, drinking partner, family member, or a coach and know what happened to me at the end of my 2011 cross country season. If you're one of the people that have reached my blog from Singapore, Germany, UK, Tasmania or anything else like that, I'll fill ya in.

In 2010 our men's team was compiled from a bunch of fast rookies, a couple seasoned vets, a kid that showed up to first tryout and ran in jeans, myself, and some optimistic coaches. The women were expected to win National gold again, and that's exactly what they did. Us dudes were expected to do well, but winning National gold was a pretty big shock for us to pull off and that's exactly what we did. After we won Nats there in New Brunswick, 110 pound Daniel Bright was brought back to the hotel at 3am by two lesbian body builders after he was found intoxicated in an alley. Brilliant. At the start of 2011, we lost a couple of bodies including the entire women's team. Us dudes were back to repeat and things were looking very good going into Nationals out in BC. It was literally our race to lose and I lost it for my team, my coaches, and everyone that invested their time into me. At 5k into the race, I started going blank, dizzy, breathing started fading, lost feeling in my legs, and chaos was happening. With 200m to go and another team gold medal in my sights, I collapsed and was unable to get back to my feet and help my team to another title. As I laid there in goose shit, listening to the drama and echoing unfolding around me, my world felt like it was coming to an end. I was held back in hospital for 3 days with Coach Ron while everyone else went back with questions and disappointment. In between all the bloodwork, tests they did on my heart, sexy nurses, and McDonald's meals from Ron; I did a lot of thinking in that hospital bed. I asked myself if I wanted to call it quits after that experience or keep at it and put that tragedy behind me. All the testing that was done on me came back negative and Ron and I went for a Keg dinner to help me feel a little better. Then we saw a mountain goat perched in his habitat, it was just sitting there all majestic and such. Ron was fascinated. Back in London I saw a cardiologist where more tests were done, yet nothing came of it. I started running about a week later and 2012 was going to become a harbour of excellence, perserverance and hope, while the gongshow of 2011 would be my motivation.

I graduated from my program and was ready to take on the real world, run for myself, make some money, chip away at some marathons and just figure things out. A couple blogposts ago I talked about ditching the New York City Marathon to go back to Fanshawe and run Cross Country for one last time.   Let me tell you how great that decision was. Remember that hurricane that came to the eastern seaboard and effed shit up? They cancelled the marathon two days before the race was supposed to happen. I would have been in the Big Apple when they broke the news and I would have absolutely snapped, knowing I trained and travelled there to run and then could have ran for Fanshawe instead. I wanted to go back to Fanshawe to redeem myself after last year and help finish what we started. I went back to better my education and complete another program also. There is a good chance that I may even be back next year and the year after that. I figure I could just become the next Van Wilder and take every program that the school has to offer until I figure out what I like. I'll be a jack of all trades and drive around in my own golf cart around campus. Girls like guys with good skills, I need more skills. The theme of this season was very clear and everyone knew that nothing less than 1st place in the country this year would be accepted. There was this really cute girl that showed up to tryout in September that also altered my brain to make the decision to come back. Amazing how she had that affect on me:) When coach John unveiled the new Falcon shirts it put goosebumps on my scrawny little arms. It says "UNFINISHED BUSINESS" on the back of them and that was the motto for the entire season. 

I'm just rambling on right now and I know I've lost the readers interest so I'll put this as simplistic as possible. We dominated Provincial Championships, putting 6 of us in the top 13 on October 20th. This probably scared the shit out of the rest of the country. On Saturday morning I woke up with redemption on my mind. You could see it in everyone's eyes man, we weren't going to let anyone get in the way of us this time. Coach John delivered his speech, we went to the course, the women raced their hearts out and it was time for us to go out there and get the job done. We had a lot of support which was awesome, All eyes were on us. Fanshawe Alumni came just to watch, along with parents and friends. Everyone had their battles and strategy. We figured if we put together 6 solid races on Saturday, no one would touch us. I put Trev and Ally's initials on my hand, something I've done all season. I warmed up, drills and strides, made sure I knew where the St. Foy Frenchies were and then toed the line. Predator Clint did his thing up front there despite running 25:41 for the 3rd straight Nationals. He is cursed in terms of running that same friggen' time, but he isn't complaining because he came 2nd in the race individually for the second straight year- he's legit people. My plan was to roll with DB for a few KM then start beasting my way up the pack and take as many scalps as I could. The start of the race was pretty crazy and there were bodies everywhere (the first 400 was probably dropped under 60 seconds) and I found myself in front of DB the entire way. I ran super smart and and just floated along nicely, reeling in bodies like a beast would. The thought of my incident in 2011 entered my mind a hundred times during the race and I kept blocking that demon out with things like: I can't wait to party after the race, damn it's nice having John Mason yelling at me right now, I hope I looked good coming up that hill in the picture you just took mom, revenge is a meal best served cold, this is for you Tbarts and Ally, this is for you boys and coaches, there will be absolutely no ambulances this year, I hope I don't shit myself, I might puke my way out of the finishing chute after the race, I'm gonna drink gin like an animal tonight, quick go catch that St. Foy kid, cursing back and forth with that idiot in the back section of the 3k loop, did he actually just call me slim shady, so-long gay boy, suck on these chinese balls, that kenyan dude is gonna crash hard, how bad do you want this, we're gonna do this, keep digging buddy you're almost there, 200m and I'm feeling better than last time, god damnit Sean Sweeny just out kicked me by a second. 

I rolled through the line and flashed my Fanshawe singlet for the cameras. I finished in 10th place with a time of 26:18. I looked back and there was DB, Rick, Mckellar, and BG. It was exhilarating to see our whole squad finish in the top 26. My emotions just started pouring out and I was fist pumping and yelling like a crazy bastard. I ran great and I knew redemption just happened. Business was finished. That was one of the best moments of my life so far; just jumping around with a permanent smile, hugging everyone and celebrating..I'm getting so happy thinking about it- I want to start screaming in the computer lab I'm in right now and break dance for everyone in here. After the race, Clint and I helped pace Kyle and Mike in the community/coaches 5k race. We had to live up to our nicknames as Predator and Beast so pacing those boys to a fast and strong 5k was the right thing to do.

It was so nice to show that you can do great things if you want it bad enough. I could have been wallowing with my head down or I could have came back to re-live another season with my family and teammates. I got to meet a super cool chick, help my boys win National College Cross Country Gold, further my education, and tell you all about my amazing experience this season. This season was a message from god that everything in fact does happen for a reason. Dreams do not work unless you do. Champions are made when no one is watching. Don't let anyone tell you that you can't do something. When life hits you hard you gotta get up and keep grinding man. Whatever it is that interests you, work hard and be the best at it. Do what makes you happy and live life abundantly. 

Thanks to everyone that has supported me and the team this year. This was a year in the making and I can finally breathe and relax a little now. This is definitely a bittersweet moment for me because I am ending my running career at Fanshawe as a champion but I'm gonna miss these experiences like crazy. I can't thank my coaches enough for investing the time into me and making me something I never thought I'd become. The relationships I've made in this sport will last a lifetime. 

I said I'd take a week off completely from running. I'm going to party like a rock star for a couple weeks now but I don't think I'll get passed day 3 of no running. In about a week from now I'm gonna start logging some sexy base mileage for the winter. I'm thinking like 100miles a week and then just work my way up from there. Cam Levins reportedly just signed with Speed River and is working with Dave Scott-Thomas but will be training in Utah still. He also ran 190 miles last week. Most people I know don't drive 100 miles a week, so I'll just start there. I also want to get a Beer Mile organized soon, so I'll keep you running people up to date with that. This Saturday, November 17th I will be hosting a party at my mothers pad to celebrate 3 months of sobriety and a fairy tale ending to an amazing season running with my Falcons. Alcohol and food, runners and non-runners, pin the tail on the Dane Moffatt, hugs, high fives, sky punches, fist pumps, beer pong, no bongs, good looking and ugly people, dogs, ratchets, music and winning will be a few things on display, so come check it out.

UVA Cross Country

Fast Dudes, Cool Song..I like it.

Familiar Territory

Bonjour and welcome back to the BlogSpot.  Some fairly hot topics boiling over right now so let's get going here shall we. My last post I mentioned that I would be scribbling ideas down in my idea bank journal, however I've been knee deep in school work, running, and a new hobby in Tae Kwon Do over the past couple of weeks. Needless to say, the idea bank has been neglected for good grades, a sexy looking running log, and some decent race results. Back when I was a tyke I was entered into a karate class.  The instructor wasn't cool at all though, nor was he Chinese. There was something about a bald white guy teaching me lame maneuvers on the exercise mats that didn't seem right. I wanted Bruce Lee and I wanted violence. When I order my food, it's very important to me that the person serving the food is of the same ethnicity of the stuff I'm about to eat. Same goes for my karate lessons. He explained karate was about self defence and respect. With total disregard to me and the rest of my peers, Sensei Karl diminished our dreams of snapping necks and round house kicks with his croc of shit theories on this so called respect methodology. After never graduating beyond a white belt in my days as a minor, I developed this wussy mantra approach to everything I worked towards. Looking back, my background in karate, or lack there of, was the product of me becoming a terrible lacrosse player and a very good artist. If you haven't put the pieces of the puzzle together (my friends have), I am a pretty weird dude. Some of the weirdest individuals roaming the planet at this very moment are of the following breed of human being:

Ice Hockey Goalie
Artist
Gin Enthusiast
Runner
Guy With Bleached Hair
Guy With Blog That Wastes Your Time

I could catch a hockey puck like you wouldn't believe man. I was a young Felix Potvin back in the Jr. Knights days, and I was a very talented drawer. The artistic qualities I possessed back then could have taken me all the way to the top, but there was nothing sexy about a drawing goalie that always won the art award. Now if I was Leonardo Di Caprio in Titanic drawing naked women that lay in front of me, that would be a different story. The only problem with that is there would never be any work done and my career would crumble worse than Chad Johnson's. Now I love my mom to death, and I understand she was doing things in the best interest for me as a young gaffer, but she contributed to my pansy lifestyle when she would always give me a combover before school. Now that I've graduated from hockey, art, and combovers, Dane Moffatt has reinvented himself to become the guy with the pansy haircut. He is 22 years old and started gelling his hair off to the side. What....A....Doorknob. Since the entire blog thus far has been nothing in relation to "familiar territory", I'll transition over to that topic soon. I will let you know that my sudden interest in Tae Kwon Do has re-kindled the fire and drive to become successful in achieving daily excellence. Finding this inner chi has given me the strength to become magnificent at everything I am doing at that moment in time. If it comes to washing the dishes, Tae Kwon Do has taught me to be the best damn plate cleaner I can be. Backing my car out of the driveway? I'll honk to alert people that the beast is now pulling out of his parking space. Packing a suitcase? I'll pack that Samsonite 2 hours earlier than I normally would, with precision folding and efficiency. Studying for a test? I'll get Starbucks like everyone else who studies and study the shit out of those notes. You get the idea, Tae Kwon Do gives me perspective, drive and clarity.

Running. Let's talk running. In case you didn't read my last post, I pulled the plug on New York City and the whole marathon thing. I'm back at the Funshawe striving for academic and athletic excellence. There is this theory that if you want good grades, fast times, and enough sleep; you can only pick two. With that being said, I have totally abandoned my 7 hour sleeps and generally wake up before 6am every morning to get the friggen' job done. Early bird gets the worm man. Sure wake up call sucks ass at that hour, but there isn't enough time in the day anymore to be successful without jeopardizing some sleep. I love when people complain about Mondays and being up at 9am. Having to walk up stairs when the elevators broke down. They tweet about their #FirstWorldProblems, wishing their phone chargers would reach their beds and that they don't have a bathroom on every floor of their homes. These are not problems, these are lazy people. The same soft people who complain about snow and rain while I'm out running 2 hours at a time in it. Sorry for the rant, that was a little offside. Point is, if you want to sleep, forget about being successful. If you want you're drinking water a couple degrees colder, hit up my sister and ask her about the project she's working on down there in Kenya.

Running. Let's talk running. In case you didn't read my last post,.....damnit. We're back in familiar territory ladies and gentlemen. This passed weekend we travelled to the great blue collar city of Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario for OCAA Provincial Championships. The ladies came into the race taking 2nd place in every exhibition race this season, while the dudes have been undefeated this fall. Falcon men have won 3 straight OCAA's and we grabbed our 4th straight on Saturday, putting 6 guys in the top 13! That's basically a sexy guy in a red singlet, every other runner- pure domination. The ladies were edged out of a third place finish by a small margin, but we're stoked as hell for them and all that they've accomplished this year! Last year we were hurting for numbers on the ladies side, and this year we're back to rebuilding them and they have been running well, and looking cute! I want to say I'm super proud of everyone thus far, just wicked results and a lot of fun we're having right now. Definitely taking care of business along the way as we make our final decent down into Quebec for Nats on November 10th. Clint Smith proved he is the real deal yet again, Finally getting that OCAA individual gold that he's deserved. Past 2 years he's won silver, and he finally grew the balls to become a champion, good job Clinty boy! There is no doubt in my mind that Clint "If You're Not First, You're Last" Smith, is the top collegiate runner in the country. He obliterated the field on Saturday and even shocked himself a little. Other shoutouts go to my Mother, who continues to drop her times with age, running another personal best at the Columbus Half-Marathon in a blazing time of 1:47. Just amazing man. Shoutouts continue on with Doug Berk, father of 2012 Westen Mustang OUA Golf Champ Spencer, for running his first Marathon in Toronto last Sunday. Dougie is by far one of the most inspiring people I know. Growing up in the Berk household, I quickly became better friends with Doug than I was with his bad influence-of-a-son Spencer. Mr. B became like a father to me, and a funny one at that. This man is so legendary, that he was in a McDonald's drive thru once with a car full of hockey kids, and their order was taking forever. Doug said enough of this child's play and he walked into the McDonalds, walked behind the counter, and started serving the vehicle full of kids on his own. Doug became very ill a while back and he fought back and overcame the cancer he was diagnosed with. Heart of a Lion. Since becoming healthy, Douglar now competes in Triathalon and road races. Although he is a back-of-the-pack runner, he never quits and it is these inspiring acts that motivate people like me to continue to dream, and run for people like Doug. Spence, be more like your dad and less like Nick Spitters. Another dude I would like to mention is John Mason....because it's John Mason. JWM is a gnarly, hard working, boot wearing, mustache sporting, cow farming, joke telling dude that built Fanshawe Cross Country to what she is today. After laying the foundation for us newbies, he graduated on to run for the great SpeedRiver Track and Field Club in Guelph, where all those fast people that produce Canada's Olympians (minus Dylan Wykes and Rob Watson) train. He recently ran the Vic Matthews XC Open there in Guelph, where he hyped it up so much that he actually lost his shoe 30 meteres into the race. Like a total goon, JWM continued to run with only 1 shoe, while the smarter decision would have been to put that sucker back on and work his way back up. John learned from his mistake, and he's going to go beastmode on the 10k down in Springbank park this coming Sunday. That's where we'll be too. The Falcons will be down their racing the 5k. Come and watch us.

Fun Facts:

I lost my iPod for the 3rd time this weekend. I actually left it in my hotel room in the Soo, along with my Chuck Taylors. Damn my head was in a haze of confusion that morning.

Congrats to Brother Russell and his girlfriend Laura on moving into a home on Colbourne. Beaut of a place, love ya guys.

Forever in our thoughts, Trevor Barton and Ally Miletic. R.I.P

Cheers Folks

Bye for now, New York City

Hot damn we have a lot to cover! Im just sitting here in my blog laboratory, sipping on a fine blend of berry concoction I blitzed up in my new Magic Bullet.  I'm really starting to suck at staying on top of this blog writing, so I've purchased a journal that will be an important component in the b-lab's daily operations. 

This journal will be my idea bank, where day-to-day misfortunes, experiences, and activities can be noted. Anything super cool should be jotted down, but not limited to: How do ants cary sticks, stones and 18 other injured ants on their shoulders? That is like humans carrying cars. Imagine you were in a situation where the city tore up major roads every summer and made us all late for work; shit, if London, Ontario just rang a bell, then you can relate to this situation. Now put yourself in the ants shoes, or -0.0000475 size feet if you will. Ants are pioneers, they are a tough species and have it pretty hard if you ask me. Pre-pubescent boys find pleasure in burning entire colonies with magnifying glasses, ravage them by the thousands with hockey sticks and cans of Raid, flood their trenches with alcohol and light a match, etc. Well now these little marching bastards are getting very strong and versatile like I witnessed the other day. There was an ant walking sideways up a wall, with a chunk of a bell pepper on his back, and he was bringing it to his brothers and sisters. I was fascinated that a creature the size of a dot could not only walk sideways up a wall, but put the team on his back by possessing powers humans could only dream of- carry something 30x your size. So sitting in traffic one day, admiring the construction workers smoke their cigarettes and give all of us assholes the middle finger, I began to think that we need to become like ants. Instead of feeling miserable, honking, swearing, and remaining in the same spot for 30 minutes, I imagined beasting out of my vehicle and tossing the Honda Civic right there on my shoulder. As the car sit there on my shoulder, I would walk around smiling at these construction workers, saying, "How do ya like me now, ya leatherfaced bastard?" Then I would just weave in and out of these late, miserable people and plop my car down where the coast was clear.  

That is just an example of something you would find in my idea bank journal.  I can also use different techniques such as brainstorming and bouncing ideas off each other to make the blog more interesting and insightful for smart people. If you are a University or College student and find yourself here when you should be studying or wrtiting a "paper", as they call it these days, then the least I can offer you is some insightful reading material about ants and construction workers. If you don't gain any knowledge from the blog, then you should go back to reading formulas and the cut and dry language found in your calculus textbook.

So now that we have most of the the rubbish flushed from my medulla oblongata, Let's reflect on the fireworks that exploded not to long ago.  The last time I was on here I gave a pretty lame race recap on a very sub par 10km race I had ran. The next race on the schedule would be the Springbank Half-Marathon which went down on September 9th. I started to buckle down after that 10k to get ready for the half and I went into the race on a big mileage week, big mileage for me being 90miles with 2 tough workouts on the monday and thursday prior.  On the monday, I ran a 10mile tempo in 54;30 and the thursday was 8x 1km (2;54-3;08) on the track. Long story short, I was going to run this half marathon with legs that could barely climb a flight of stairs.  

I had a lot of family come watch me, and big thanks to Josh Robinson and Clint Smith who were down on the route with my bottle (even though I barely took a drink with my stomach all jacked up). It was also nice to have Coach Loney and his boys out there yelling at me at the 10k mark.  Before the race I put the initials of Ally and Trevor on my hand as well as my race bib. I think it's something I will continue to do in my races this season and dedicate the work I do for them. So the gun went off and there was a pack of about 5 or 6 of us for the first 7ish kilometers.  At that point Adam Stacey and I thought it was necessary to start pulling away from the pack and it was the two of us until 10k. The first 10k was a little slow (34:40) and Adam put a gap on me and I didn't feel like making a move yet. I could see him the entire way but was never able close in on him enough to make it a race.  He ended up winning, I finished second with a 7 second PB of 1:12:24. I was happy with my result because this course was a lot tougher than Burlington, where I ran my previous personal best.  Just wanted to say thanks to my cousin Rob who attempted running me into the finish with 200m to go, he definitely got me sprinting when I saw him.  He tore his ACL like twice or something crazy and he was still out there running around and popping out of bushes to cheer me on with his wife Tracy and their kids!

So I think I nailed this race in terms of where I wanted to be with my training for the New York City Marathon. This is where I started to question what I wanted to do with my running, work, school, etc, however. I started showing up to the Fanshawe cross country workouts because I can't get enough of it. The atmosphere of fall cross country season, the coaches, the team and the culture of it all..I just needed to be there. I had my eyes set on NYC and nothing was going to change my plans to run that marathon.  On the eve of the last day to register for classes at Fanshawe, I was laying in bed thinking of every positive and negative outcome of me coming back to school. The positives definitely outweighed the negatives and I texted Coach, and Clint telling them NYC was irrelevant at this point and we had unfinished business to take care of. Pulling the plug on NYC was a really tough (and expensive) decision but I was relieved at the same time. I don't see any marathons within the next 5 years for this guy, need to have that footspeed and the marathon will come later. So I'm back as a student athlete running for the Falcons, and we're working hard to be 1 spot better than we were last year. Here's a link to last saturday's Fanshawe Invitational and my first race back since Nationals last season. 

http://www.londoncommunitynews.com/2012/09/falcons-soar-at-invitational/


Over and Out

Rock The Road 10k

Damnit I sucked on Sunday.  With Joesphat, Thomas and Terence in the race I knew I had to forget about top 3 and just friggen' run. Even though I sucked, the event certainly did not.  The route was awesome, Brandon Laan and his crew did an outstanding job, the beer tent was glorious and very rewarding, the bands and volunteers were stellar until I drowned them out after 5k, and overall it seemed like a big success for Runnersfeed.  I'll definitely make this a yearly race and I can see it getting very big and competitive in the coming years.

So ya the race.  Like I said in my previous post, I had no idea how well I'd run on Sunday.  I ended my week with 85 miles and then ran the race on some pretty shitty legs.  My legs are so shitty right now, just rubbery shitty appendages that hang from my torso and don't want anything to do with me or with anything remotely fast.  The plan was to train through this race and run it as a solid tempo in prep for the Springbank Half-Marathon on September 9th.  I got out to a slow start and never really got into any type of rhythm- it was such a cock block not being able to catch 4th and 5th (they were about 50m ahead of me from 6k till the finish).  The amount of miles at marathon pace and lack of miles at usain bolt pace is making me one slow bastard right now but thats what you gotta compromise while training for 26.2.  

I rolled through the line in 6th- 33:19 was my time.  Running very mediocre times aren't fun, but they certainly fuel the rest of your training.  I need to get on my horse man, balls to the wall from here on out!  Less than 10 weeks until NYC. 

Let's go!

Late Nights And Early Mornings

And we're back.  I'm live on set with yet another episode of pointless blog material that you poor bastards are about to read. At the age of 22, this marathon grind is just beating the shit out of me.  Let's start off with my recent lifestyle change.  

Few weeks back I was all googly eyed at some lame bar where a bunch of lame bouncers work. Lame bouncer dudes have a lot going for them.  They get all jacked up at the gym and look big and stupid. Then they wear tight shirts and put their chests out super far in hopes of getting some phone numbers while they I.D. the girls falling over in line.  Once they let a bunch of underage skanks into their establishment where they puke, cry, fight, pull hair and ruin everyones night, bouncer-dude-bro-guy then experiences a shift in his attitude and he turns into an asshole!  This guy with the giant ego and tiny dick starts to kick out all of his loyal, yet googly eyed customers (to make more room for the skanks he won't even get to bang).  

About the new lifestyle.  So I ended up losing that shitty Blackberry of mine at the liquor joint during one of those lame nights.  I wasn't pissed or anything, I knew this was the beginning of a new me.  I had plans of growing my hair to my knees, a beard long enough that could be braided, and moving to a remote jungle where I could become a hunter/gatherer and a dedicated woodsmen, where cellphones were unnecessary and the hippy life would be the life for me.  4 hours after this plan was plotted into my journal of ideas, I changed my mind and demanded an iPhone.  Now I have the phone and I suck balls at anything nature related.  I've learned that once you have an iPhone, its standard to feel like you're better than everyone else.  Tim Horton's is now off limits. God forbid you have a flip phone at Starbucks, their prissy, we're-better-than-Tim Horton's-staff will have you removed from the premises accordingly.  Although I do enjoy picking up a new book at Chapters and lounging at Starbuck's for a nice blend, I still refuse to call their cup sizes "tall, venti and grande".  Fuck that, like seriously? They can suck it.  No pimple faced coffee boy bag of douche is going to hear me putter out some Italian words followed by the word 'coffee'.  I understand its a cultural thing, buying organic is now a way of life and those toe shoes are trendy and they have mosaic art and sculptures and hip sofas and metro-sexuals hanging out in there, but for as long as I'm living, its always gonna be a medium black for this guy.  Any man ordering a "latte" with cinnamon, brown sugar, foam, pink sauce, caramel fudge, shot of expresso, sprinkles, whipped cream, cherry blossums, and calling it anything other than a "small, medium, or large" should have their Man-Card revoked affective immediately.  There were two key indicators that proved I wasn't fit for the Tarzan way of living.  

Pathetic Indication Numero Une: I went fishing with Russ, Tay and Asian Bieber: Cheuk Leung.  I knew we weren't going to catch a single fish as soon as I got into Russell's car.  Why was I so pessimistic only a minute upon entering the vehicle? We had no fucking fishing rods, bait, camouflaged hats, nets, bobbers, anything.  They assured me everything would be fine and we'd pick up some of this shit on the way to the river.  I had another gut feeling that we were going to suck that afternoon as Cheuk entered the vehicle.  He was wearing a v-neck, skinny jeans, and some high top Nikes that were bound to scare the fish away.  When you do something that's nature and danger related you can't be wearing shit that came from an H&M magazine, it's just bound to backfire on you.  Long story short, we walked through some bush to get to our designated area, casted the two rods we had, and the best we came up with was some seaweed and some tangled lines.  The dudes across the river were looking at us baffled and in disbelief.  They were hardcore fly fishers who were balls deep in that river and determined to catch something stinky and slimy.

Very Un-Manly Indication Numero Deux: Sitting on my bed one night, twittering, facebooking, instagramming, and any other stupid shit you can do on the iPhone, I was defeated by a bat/sparrow in my bedroom that night.  I had just come back from a late night run, my third one of the day and I hammered the shit out of it.  My brain went all squirrelly and I achieved the glorious "Runners High".  So sitting there on my bed..naked..sweating..cheerful and glee, I was catching up on the social media propaganda that I missed out on for the passed hour.  The next part tore me mentally and physically for the next couple of days.  It was a bat or a bird that came soaring and swooping down over my head like a fighter jet in my own bedroom, with no regard for my exhausted and naked body sitting their on the bed.  I was threatened so I took cover, falling to the ground and screaming the word Fuck as loud as I could like I was being shot and attacked by Adolf and the gang.  It flew passed my head once more but I didn't get a good look at the intruders genetic profile. The loud bang as I barricaded myself to the floor and the loud profanity woke the whole house up.  We never found that son-of-a-bitch and it remains an unsolved mystery.  After two nights of sleeping in a different bedroom I'm back in my own bed with a tennis racket and the flashlight app on my phone (I suggest you get that app its very handy).  

With this recent pussy behaviour I realized my dreams of Costa Rica jungle life just isn't for me.  I see myself mastering a craft like carpentry or entering the porn industry, something tedious like that one day.  I also started listening to all types of music, not just the hip-hop stuff.  I like rock music and old shit now, dressing in red pants and wearing obnoxious shit. I'm reading Fifty Shades of Grey, too.  Just kidding.  If I was then my behaviour would be so pussy that it'd be off the charts and I would be downgraded to that bar skank pussy that we talked about earlier.  I'm actually reading Scar Tissue by Anthony Keidis (lead singer of the Red Hot Chili Peppers), and man it's crazy.  There are actually dudes out there, living in L.A., shooting cocaine into their veins at the age of 11.  Crazy book man, Anthony's clean now but he was not a healthy soul.  I'd like to mention Dane in the blog cause he hasn't made an appearance yet.  Back when that sucker ass broad stole my iPod, me, Daner, and Mark had plans to rival the ongoing motorcycle clubs here in the city.  We were looking at infiltrating these gangs and becoming local hero's like how Batman is to Gotham (Dark Knight Rises was a terrible waste of time by the way).  But as plans fell through we're still doing some soul searching and trying to make it big, take over the world and marry two hot girls and live in one big house together.  We already know who the two girls are, but they don't.  I'm not sure how we're going to drop the news on them, but they're gonna have to adhear to all of our needs.  Dane and I will not have jobs other than taking care of the children and taking the trash out every other week.  Most of the time we will be playing xbox with head sets and drinking beer and gin.  We suck when we're together though, like the time at Fanshawe our first year we sat beside eachother farting always and I failed 4/6 classes, but he wasn't much better.  Or the time I went to his electrical box and cut the power in his house when he had a party and he almost bottled me.  Or that one time someone backed a car into a swamp and instead of searching for help we pulled the keg out of the trunk and started drinking from it anyways.  Danes a pretty cool guy and he's coming to NYC with me for this running event I'm gonna put myself through.  My main focus is to run that Marathon, but after it we're going to shop like ballers and get drunk in Manhattan. 

New York City and the Running thing.  Hats off to Dylan Wykes, Eric Gillis, and Reid Coolsaet who finished the Olympic Marathon in 20th, 22nd, and 27th respectively.  Top 30 in that event as Canadians is pretty fricken huge and the future for Canadian distance running is looking quite nice.  That 38 year old CND record is gonna fall soon and I think all three of these dudes will break it.  I've got a bit less than 11 weeks till the ING New York City Marathon and to be honest I have no idea where I'm at or how fit I am.  I'm getting in some good mileage but the workouts are going as planned about 60% of the time.  I'm blaming it on the unhealthy shit I eat cause' my stomach is always jacked up and full of pain during the longer intervals and tempo stuff.  I guess we'll test some of this work this Sunday in London for the Rock The Road 10k and then again in September at the Springbank Half Marathon. I've been running with Brandon Laan some and he's a really cool dude.  I want to continue working with him running wise and then maybe help him in the future with the business he's got going on there.  I also met up with Chris Balestrini for coffee the other day after I stumbled upon his blog.  That kid is nails and he too wants to work his balls off.  He is a craftsmen on the bike, like a super friggin' beast.  I sent him an email after seeing that he wanted to take his cycling talent, combine it with his running background, and turn himself into one of those freak athletes that compete in Ironman.  So we met and we're going to be working on the running thing together, which should benefit the both of us cause he's got a good set of wheels on him as well.  It's going to be an ongoing project but I'm excited for the grind.  Working 16 hours a week is awesome!  I'm almost mimicking the life of an elite runner right now, running at 7am, eating breakfast, napping until noon, hitting the gym, running in the afternoon, eating dinner, and chillin' out.  I also mix in a dump, shower and toothbrush just to clarify things.  I don't want this lifestyle to ever change, its being too good to me right now.  I also can't wait to re-unite with the Fanshawe XC bro's.  Cross Country season is coming up and I'm sad as hell I won't be participating.  I'm going to try and be there every step of the way though, they're going to be Champs this year.  I guess after this 10k on Sunday we'll have a better understanding on where my fitness is at.  I'm just hoping I don't get dropped by Krista Duchene:-)

Bye for now......      

A New One

Whatsup y'all, I'm back. First and foremost, where the kcuf is my god damn ipod! This is another bloody blog with the full intention of letting the world know that I have another missing electronic device. This time I'm more pissed tho, pisstification has reached a new level, 11.6 on the 10 level pistified scale. I just bought one of those gangster looking 160 gig black suckers, throw a pretty good soirée (sp) at my moms pad, and now the damn thing is missing. Cindy wasn't even at the party, so now i'm really scratching my hungover/semi-drunk still ratchet head. 

Whatever. Doesn't matter at all. Just got my President's Choice Visa card in the mail today, huge TSN turning point in my life right now. Give this kid a piece of friggin' plastic that allows you to buy whatever the hell you want, with money you don't have, and you have yourself a baller on a budget. Also, I'm sorry for leaving blog nation for the past little while, all this Luka Magnotta and bath salt Miami face eating shit has got my effin' head in the clouds. What the hell is this! How hungry must one be to eat a fucking face! Nevermind that, people gotta eat, I fully understand. The gay porn star butcher with 76 facebook accounts buzzed me as well; it's to bad he won't spend the rest of his life in jail. He'll get off somehow, they all do. Why am I talking about this dumb shit anyways, I had a party last night.

Ya so I had a party because it was my 22nd birthday yesterday. 22 years ago Donna pushed me out, God bless that woman. Yesterday was just beautiful. I felt like a pimp the entire day! I woke up drunk, ran on the treadmill for 6 miles and nearly fell a few times, got my hair looking nice thanks to Marvin, drove around in Donna's BMW with the top down, blasting music, young tan and hansome, turning heads. And then boom! It was 5pm and time to celebrate these 22 years of shocking behaviour. We had some cross country dudes and their lady friends, work pals, my crew of gomers, brother, sister, brother and sisters friends, a weiner dog and a lassie looking creature, hamburgers, hot dogs, beers, liquors, lotsa gin (thanks for the bottle Jordan) coolers, cigarettes for the anti-runners, smiles, laughs, hotties, couple uglies, sobers, hammereds, ratchets, wrenches, etc. Hell there were a lot of things and before you know it I was putting on a show. Normally when the purity of gin blesses my lips I put on a show anyhow, but when you are the host of a bender and all eyes are on you, that show is magnified to new extremities. I was having drink offs with 17 year olds, yelling, swearing, ginning (winning and drinking gin at the same time...Charlie Sheen approved) dropping beers, shooting pool, sucking ass at pool actually. I was also the recipient of a lovely ice cream cake thanks to co-worker Maelyn and friend Lora. Lora's parents must have been lazy at the time of making that name. 98% of the time Lora is spelt Laura. They were lazy in the sense that they didn't want the extra letter. I wish my name was one less letter, but then I'd be called Jos. I hate the name Jos, don't ever call me that. Speaking of names, I recall telling my sister yesterday why I hated her for 3 quarters of her existence. You see, her given name is Abigail. Pretty name if you ask me. Then at the age of 6 or so she butchers the shit out of it and renames it Abbie. I would have been 11 at the time and this infuriated me. I was such a little bastard back then. I blame it on Eminem. This only angered me because her shortened name was spelt Abby. When she thought she was all cool trendy and hip and decided to drop that 'y' and add the 'ie' I was insulted, embarrassed, and didn't want to leave the house. Shocking right?

Brother Alex was in prime shape last night too. So was Nick Russell. Russell is a complete gongshow and he made his mark yesterday. I'm glad my mom got to see who he really is, he tends to play the nice guy role in front of the parents but when he's on his liquor game the kid is in complete shambles. Whether its a ripped shirt, beer covered shirt, hair flowing everywhere, googly friggin' eyes, or whatever he gets himself into, Nick is quite the guy. Direct message to ya Nick: go join the circus. Other notable ratchet heads included my brothers friend Andrew S, my mom, me, pretty much all the runners were dinked, Reanna was fairly effed, George...drunk, and everyone else seemed pretty civilized. Andrew S though man, hoooollly shit! This kid was flippin 114 pounds give or take when I saw a Steelers game back in November with him. This clown is now 170lb with huge guns. I kept getting him to flex for the party. I was pumping that kids tires all night and then as he was soaking up all the glory I got him completely pie-eyed! He is corrupted and now a straight gin drinking goblin. Top 5 drunkest kids at the house, hands down. My mom also put together a beautiful video of me, stopped the party, and showed it to everyone. She compiled a shit ton of images of me from my young years to the transformed sexy beast that I am today. What a sweetheart. I also went up and hugged her infront of everyone to make it look like I'm a cute and genuine son. Totally faked it. Just kidding Dons, you know I'm great!

I don't even know what this blog is supposed to be about. Just a clusterfudge of ramblings I guess. Embrace it man. Step into my absolute life right now. Now that most of this party jargon has been exposed, let's talk running. Running is so stupid. I absolutely hate it sometimes, mostly when I'm injured. Hip flexors are flippin' killing me. Just weak and tender and all around a pretty bad setup. I need a new pair of legs. Right now I'm only running like 5-6 miles a day and the pain is kinda effing off at this point. Also putting in a lot of time on the saddle. I was gonna do this crazy ass 24 week marathon build up for NYC but that shit has gone down the drain. Im down to about 17ish weeks out from the big day and its time to start getting fit again. I'm just gonna have fun with it man. No more school, just running and working part time. Speaking of work, I got employee of the Month for May! Crazy shit has happened before but employee of the month for the entire grocery store? People love me there for some weird reason. Nice plaque with my name on it and everything.

I'm getting pretty flustered right now and running out of things to talk about. Andrew S just called me to say that he found my ipod hidden in the love seat! Cloud 9 baby, lifes good! This coming Sunday, July 8th, my sister AbbIE has organized a 5 and 10km footrace in Gibbons Park. The race is to create awareness for clean drinking water in Kenya. Abby went to that place last year and was touched by the entire experience. I liked Abby when she came back, she wasn't such a materialistic valley girl anymore and realized hair straighteners and iphones weren't all that friggin' important after all. I told her she wouldn't last a day, shitting in holes and bathing in goose piss just weren't gonna cut it for her. But hell was I wrong man. She made friends and made a difference that not a lot of people can say they've done. So she directed this race and its called "Quenching Kenya's Thirst". Epic shit man. Go register for it, online at www.http://www.newbalancelondon.com/....time is running out! All proceeds to Free the Children for a clean water project down there in Kenya. I'm gonna run the 10km for fun and probably wear something goofy. Sign up and I'll run it with you:-)

This is it for Blog today. Come back in a week and I'll mix in some more verbs and material for ya. Cheers.

Rest In Peace TBarts. You've touched the lives of hundreds of people. I love you man and I think about you every day. Angel in the outfield. May 23, 1991-May 12, 2012