Date Day and the Preventative Pedicure...Ugh

This fall I could barely walk. I thought I had another case of the gout because the pain in the big toe on my right foot was excruciating. At this point in time I had not completely given up overindulgences in coffee, expensive beer, mint chocolate chip ice cream, and cake. For most of last summer I had been doing so well, especially after training hard for and competing in the SEA Paddle NYC Race. A few days after the 26.5 mile jaunt around Manhattan I got engaged. Getting engaged should only happen a few times in someone's life (tee hee I kid, Gracie, I kid) so I took such a special occasion as an excuse to party with friends and family. The great shape I had gotten in disappeared quick then the pain in my toe started. I feared the gout had set in once again.

I was wrong. All it was was an ingrown toenail. For a couple days I tried to poke and prod my way into feeling better but was unable to ease any of the pain. The Sandbridge Hei Hei race was not far off so I wanted to train hard but the pain in my toe was not allowing me to put a lot of pressure on my right foot. If you are a SUP enthusiast you understand how important toes are for support and balance. To rectify the situation I decided to check out an Express Care in Chesterton, Indiana.

I was the only patient at the Express Care so they brought me in as soon as I filled out the required paper work. The doctor was a young attractive blond and the nurse was pretty easy on the eyes as well. I didn't think the experience was so bad. Within 20 minutes I was out the door and on my way home to rest for a day before being able to get back on the water. I paid $250.00 up front in case my horrendous "catastrophe only" health insurance refused to pick up any of the bill, which I assumed would happen and it did.

In the middle of October I received a bill from Porter Regional Hospital for over $1100.00. Now, if you don't think the state of our health care system needs reform then go to an Express Care and have an ingrown toenail removed. I wrote Porter Regional Hospital a letter and asked them to explain how in the world a simple procedure such as cutting off the side of a toenail in rural Indiana could be more expensive than a root canal in downtown Chicago. I knew the cost of both because both happened to me within a 45 days of each other. I received a call from a nice lady who said someone would look into the matter and the bill would be adjusted. They knocked off around $200.00. Now I owe Porter Regional Hospital $778.00 for a procedure that I should have let Gracie take care of with a utility knife and a bottle of rail vodka, which would have only cost her family's bar, the Old Town Ale House, about $2.63. That bill I could have paid off in a month or two.

The point of this story is that I cannot afford to have simple health issues attended to by large corporations. I need to live my daily life taking careful consideration of how I treat EVERY part of my body. Back in September 2012 I found out how important it is for an athlete to have healthy toes, which leads me back to yesterday - date day.

Gracie took me to get my first pedicure ever at the nail salon next to the Old Town Ale House. I hate feet and I don't like to be touched and therefore I would hate for someone to have to touch my own feet. However, after having to go into more debt in order to pay to have an ingrown toenail worked on by a professional I decided that prevention was necessary.

Am I glad I did it...yes. Will I ever get a pedicure again...yes. Did I hate every second of it...yes.

Needless to say Gracie had more fun on our date than I did. I could hear her giggling as I constantly squirmed in my chair, but such are the sacrifices I make to make my wife happy. Insert very important slogan here that I have become all too familiar with as of late: happy wife = happy life.

The pedicure was torture, but I have never been able to cut my toenails in a straight line. The pedicure cost $30.00 including tip and I walked out of the nail salon feeling like I was walking on air. Today at the gym I felt no discomfort in my toes as I went like lightning on the treadmill. For the last two weeks I had been feeling quite a bit of discomfort running and knew I had to do something before having to deal with another toenail issue. I grabbed toenail clippers and thought about trying to take matters into my own hands but all my attempts to correct matters didn't feel like solutions. I needed professional help so I put on sunglasses, trench coat, and a fedora and slinked behind Gracie to the nail salon.  

I may not be all excited and jumping up and down about pedicures and trips to the nail salon but I like having happy toes. Toes are vital parts of the lifestyle I have chosen. Maybe my terrible toenails were the reasons why I fell so much in the Surf to Sound Race and the Orange Bowl Paddle Championships (or maybe it was just bad balance). Nevertheless, I must recommend the pedicure experience to anyone who has feet and wants to use them in athletic pursuits. If you have any discomfort in your tippy toes get thee to a nail salon. Do it! Luckily for me I think my wife enjoyed our date to the nail salon so much that she will be happy to take me for another date next time I feel the slightest tinge of discomfort in any of my toes. That will be $30.00 of my our money that I can stash away for another paddle!

More about → Date Day and the Preventative Pedicure...Ugh

Working on Working

I've been studying the human system lately...

My own system has been in fluctuation and extreme disarray since I turned 40. What had once been somewhat of a fine-tuned machine, if I do say so myself, had begun to expand and droop in all the wrong places. Only within the last year have things begun to even out. As of late an arc, moving in a positive direction, has occurred when it comes to my own health and fitness. The reason for this more-than-welcomed and overdue movement in the right direction is 98% due to the sport of stand up paddling.

My cousin Neil first got me to try stand up paddling but I wasn't exactly thrilled with moving slowly up and down the creeks and rivers near my mother's house in Oxford, Maryland. I wasn't ready to give up more extreme sports like wakeboarding and skateboarding. Then after my fourth concussion wakeboarding followed by a nasty fall to the bottom of a bowl, all occurring within the years of being uninsured, I thought/discovered that falling off a paddleboard into the Tred Avon River didn't sound (or feel) too bad. It wasn't until August 2011 when Gracie and I went on vacation in Maryland that I really decided I would try to incorporate some time paddling into some sort of routine. She even tried it and liked it. Eli Mongrel and I tried it and liked it so my Mom said I should take the board back to Chicago with me. I did and I used it. Paddling on Lake Michigan without the threat of sea nettles made for some enjoyable time atop the water. 

Throughout the mild winter of 2011/2012 I found myself out on Lake Michigan quite a bit. I even got a brand new board for Christmas because I thought I would lean toward the surfing aspect of the sport. During this time of dipping my toes in SUP I have to thank Neil, Steve Dejter, and Ben Butterwei from SUP Annapolis for dealing with my countless questions about gear, technique, and more gear. I asked a lot of questions and took up a lot of their time as I was truly falling in love with the lifestyle. 

Neil suggested I think about entering a race on the Jimmy Lewis Albatross I was paddling at the time. I thought about it and started getting out on the water with hopes of having the 2012 Carolina Cup be my first race. I ended up getting some days working on a television show and therefore lost time on the water and therefore had to cancel plans to head to Wrightsville Beach in April. At this point I didn't lose any sleep about not making the trip because I was still trying to figure this whole paddling thing out. My favorite aspect about the sport was allowing myself a nip of Armagnac after any paddle in temperatures under 50 degrees. 

After a few more phone calls from Neil throughout the spring I decided to enter my first race in Ocean City in June of 2012. When I arrived and stepped out of my car, nervous as hell, the first person I met was April Zilg who explained that she had just driven up from North Carolina after racing the previous day. She quickly explained how much fun the whole racing thing was and how much she loved the people involved in it before hoping off to go say hello to another racer. The next person I met was Dawn Ehman Marohl who was in charge of the race. She was equally as welcoming and charming and helped ease my nerves as she handed me a bag of really cool stuff! Note: if you want a bag of fun goodies, enter Dawn's races!!   

Neil finally arrived and introduced me around to some folks after I had been pacing around in circles for what seemed like hours. Everyone was really good looking and in pretty good shape. I had slacked off quite a bit in my own workout regimen and decided I would NOT race without a shirt as people began to disrobe as the start neared.

Then came race time...I hadn't been that nervous since I had the lead in an Art House Live play. Seeing all these handsome fit paddlers was intimidating as hell. I jumped in the water to pee for the 75th time that morning before the start. When the horn for the start finally did sound I looked around to see what everyone else was doing and saw a lot of determined looks on a lot of peoples' faces as the water churned all around me. I paddled that Jimmy Lewis like I was trying to get off Hades and watched as Neil and many others just about disappeared from vision! When I did cross the finish line people were laying back on their board relaxing, some drinking beer, while I was looking for water and a medic. I think April had already loaded her board on her car.

Turns out I won the Surf category and got called up in front of the crowd, received 100 bucks cash and a few more cool bits of swag then had my picture taken holding a trophy for the first time ever in my life. I never knew how good it felt to get a trophy!

A day or so later I saw the pictures that were taken at the race. I didn't recognize myself. From the day I turned 40 I knew my body was changing, toward the negative end of the spectrum, but I didn't realize how much until I saw pictures from that race. Between 40 and 42 I had had a disc explode in my back while doing seated rows at the gym, a couple teeth fall out of my head, continued to smoke Camels, and found myself drinking before noon on some of those dreary winter days. Reality came at my conscience like an uppercut to the sternum as I saw that picture on Facebook and saw that all my friends saw that picture as well. Something had to be done. Racing rekindled a fire in my soul to and I needed to get it the F&%$ together.

A few days after the Ocean City race I went out and paddled with Boga team rider and Walk on Water co-owner Ron Gossard to try a couple 12-6 race boards. Feeling the difference between a race board and a surf-style SUP was amazing. We cut a deal and I traded in my surf style and used my remaining credit on an old Visa for a beautiful white 404 Monster. I bought that thing the day before the 2nd race I would ever do which was on Kent Island. I came in 3rd in that race and the hook was set. I became obsessed with the sport.

Between then and now not much time has passed but a world of beautiful changes have taken place in my life. I feel that I have found that physical regime that had been missing for far too long. My spiritual side and my belief in God, a caring (then) girlfriend (now) wife, and pizza delivery had been pushing me through some tough times. Stand up paddling provided me new challenges and a whole new realm of people to meet with more positive outlooks on life than my fellow day drinkers around Chicago. The world began to open up as I adapted my ways to a whole new lifestyle. 

My own evolution is still underway and I am continuing to work hard so when the time comes I can help others make changes and take on a more positive way to live their lives. For many years I toyed with the idea of becoming a personal trainer then came the years when wearing size 36 pants made me laugh at the thought. Now, my ways are different. My outlooks are different. The knowledge I seek comes from new places that are further up the mountains along the correct paths I avoided for so long. 

No longer is this blog going to be about me bitching about the state of things in this world; it is going to be about me passing on the knowledge I am discovering that can have positive impacts on peoples' lives. By the middle of May I want to be working with people teaching them Stand Up Paddle Fitness and offering up solutions to improving physical and mental health and taking clients to higher levels of health and fitness than they thought possible. I want to make a modest living out of impacting the lives of others. I know firsthand what taking on the paddling "lifestyle" can do and I have read testimonies and seen the results in the lives of others.

The Eccentric's Take will soon take on a new format and a new outlook.  My goal is to have many people nodding their heads in agreement as they read over knowledge that I will pass along during my own journey and new bonds will begin to forge with strangers that one day I will meet atop the water...

More about → Working on Working

Putting Down Fresh Tracks

This morning I didn't think it would be a big deal but what looms ahead is, without a doubt, unsettling, but not for reasons you might think. I want to be the best husband, not just that I can be, but the best in the world, as in getting voted Time Magazine's Husband of the Year for more years in a row than any other husband. The pressure to be the best is heavy. For someone who likes independence as much as I do, I know being in a committed relationship is going to mean tons of work. I already know some of the areas I need to improve upon and I am sure more areas I need to improve upon will come to light very quickly as the marriage commences.

I am not talking about the big things like cheating and lying; I am talking about the little things like saying nice things even though you don't necessarily want to, cleaning up after my wife without saying anything snide (just doing it!), not bitching about the fact that I filled up the dogs' water bowl 500 million times in a row compared to her 2, and making sure that at least 75%...okay, maybe 99% of the decisions I make have her considerations in mind as well as the end result benefitting my own selfish needs. My sister left me a voicemail yesterday that was full of good advice but what stuck with me was when said: "make sure you do sweet things for each other." Gracie is already well ahead of me on this one so being reminded that reciprocity is important in a relationship was well timed.

For a lot of years I never thought this morning would ever happen and if it did I thought I would be that guy who passed out at the altar. The joke between Gracie and I as she has gone out on countless bachelorette excursions has been - you don't get a bachelor party you've had a bachelor party for the last 43 years. Everything happens for a reason...

I would not be in the position I am in this morning without becoming the man that I have become due to countless failures over the last several decades. Failures is a terrible word choice, but I cannot come up with a better word for it is early and I have a lot on my plate today...

Let me try and say it differently - I cringe when I look back at how I acted on some dates, in some relationships, and on some occasions during moments leading up to possible romantic encounters. I honestly don't think I started growing up until I turned 38. But I will say this - I never "settled", never have never will. All my romantic pursuits were after top-shelf women because I was enamored by the beauty on the outside and intrigued with what made the inside tick. And I am forever grateful for every moment and cherished memory that occurred because each was indeed a privilege bestowed upon me. From each of these experiences I learned a great deal because I was pretty much an idiot most of the time. Now, and only now, am I able to take this great step toward maturity after recognizing my foolishness and then making the proper (hopefully) adjustments. I feel very fortunate not only because when I look at my past I see nothing but incredible beauty but the beauty that waits ahead of me is rather overwhelming.

The sun has risen high above the buildings now and I need to start getting cleaned up and dressed in my new duds. I know that all three people who will read this are either good friends or family so I look forward to celebrating this wonderful day with you at some point in the very near future!!

A song just popped into my head which I think makes for a good start to the day (minus the somewhat sad ending of course)

Big hugs to all!
BWT

More about → Putting Down Fresh Tracks

Post Race Musings

Yesterday was the most physically challenging day my body has had to endure since the Great Post-Graduation Party Hangover of 1995. For the last 6 weeks I trained hard to try and prepare my body for the 26.5 mile stand up paddleboard race around the island of Manhattan. I left Chicago to live in Oxford for easy access to the water, to get off the booze, and mooch healthy food off my mom. I also got back to church. I decided to do Chariots of Fire training and take Sundays off as a day of rest and did zero paddling, not even little fun paddles with friends. Much of this time was spent in solitude as I was working on getting focused for an endurance event, something I had never done before. Things seemed to be going well and I could feel the positive effects on my body and my mind as my research into endurance training brought about some positive results. The confidence grew. My goal was not only to finish but I wanted to finish in the top 10. I wanted it bad. Five miles into the race I knew that goal was beyond my grasp; however, I didn't slow down. Twenty-two miles into the race my goal was to just make it to the finish line...

I didn't start well. I am always too nice and too conservative at the start of races because I don't want to be the reason why someone gets dumped overboard. Being way conservative at the start of this race put me so far behind that I was unable to catch up to some folks that I wanted to keep pace with for the first leg of the race. At the second buoy turn I got behind one kid who just stopped and watched the goings on. I was caught on the outside and held at a standstill until I found out which way this kid went because all the momentum was on the inside. This took quite a few seconds and I lost all momentum. Bad idea on my part. I should have nosed my way right in the mix and tried to keep pace with some of the stronger paddlers.

The Hudson River was brutal with all the churning water for the first 8 or so miles. However, due to the flood tide my pace was awesome. I completed the first 8 miles in around 1:25, well ahead of my usual race pace. At 12.5 miles I was just under 2 hours in and I thought back to Danny Ching's pace that won the Carolina Cup as he won that 12.5 mile race in 2:05. So I thought to myself...how in the hell does one man paddle that fast without 2 knots of current and an 8 knot breeze behind him. All the while I am watching a large part of the field paddling far ahead of me. The Hudson River stage of the race was very exciting but it was also very humbling.

As we entered the Harlem River I made the dumbest decision of the race. I did not stop and eat the power bar in my back pocket. Other people had stopped to re-fuel their bodies and hydrate so I decided this would be a good time to try and pass some people. I did not realize what a costly mistake this would be for about 6 miles.

Let me state right now that I HATE the Harlem River. We had the wind and the current against us the whole way. When my body started telling me that it desperately needed nourishment and water I was in no position to stop and make the adjustments because every time I did I would immediately start to go backwards. Sixteen miles into the race and feeling the pain I DID NOT want to go backwards at all.

At this point in the race I also grew very sick of listening to music. My playlist that I had prepared for the race might be one of the worst compilations in mix-tape history. I focused on the Bible verse I had taped on my board to help get me through the tough times and this was a very tough time. I could feel my body weakening so I was grabbing at the bag of dried figs in my pocket and losing all forward momentum. The figs were helping but the damage was done and my performance was weakening a great deal.

On the Harlem River I watched some inspiring paddling. Two paddlers went by me making the current and wind on the nose seem like it was nothing to them. Their focus, strength, and stamina was amazing to watch until they went so far ahead that they disappeared into the urban horizon and reached the max-flood current of the East River at Hell's Gate well before me.

I knew the max-flood current at Hell's Gate began around 1:05 pm and I assumed that I would be there in plenty of time. I was still on the Harlem River and started feeling anxious that I would have to deal with the turning current on the East River unless I started accelerating. My pace did pick up on the southern end of the Harlem River.

When I saw the rapids boiling off Randall's Island I got excited. There was the current I needed to take me to the finish line. The East River and the infamous Hell's Gate.

As I started to push myself to catch the current I started to feel cramping in my left side. The pain got so bad that I could only paddle on my right side and that is not a good thing in Class 3 rapids. I had to break down and eat. I bypassed the protein/meal bar and broke into my plastic baggie of the little energy drops made by Power Bar. I shoved these into my mouth as fast as I could. The pain from the cramping got to the point where I became very scared about finishing the race. I started falling off my board at every little ripple. Pulling myself back on the board did not help the cramping. I rested on my knees for a few minutes and tried to maintain a heading down river. This also proved to be very difficult due to the pain on my left side. The fingers on my left hand started to form into a claw which did not want to unravel. On my knees I had to paddle holding the shaft between my two middle fingers. Trying to maintain speed, balance, and a proper course heading using this technique is not recommended.

Twenty-three point six miles in I realized I only had three miles to go! However, the Williamsburg Bridge looked like it was ten miles away. I begged and pleaded with the Man Upstairs to please let me finish the race. I popped some more Power Bar energy drop things, drank some water, and cooled off the East River another time or two and started to focus on breathing. I passed another Elite paddler who had just passed me when I was cramping. (I hate to say it but that felt really good.) The final two buoys at the finish line grew larger and larger and then I made that last turn toward the beach. I took off my leash and jogged across the finish line after one of the most grueling experiences my body and my mind has ever had to overcome, but I wasn't ready to celebrate anything yet. I had some of my own issues thumping around inside my heart and my head that I needed to deal with.

When the race was over I was mad as hell. I was mad at some of the foolish decisions I made during the race. I was angry with God for not providing me with the strength to pass the 27 people who finished ahead of me. I was mad at the waiter who told me I was in the wrong place to get food after the race and I was mad that I was covered in remnants from the East River. Then a thought struck me. This race was about more than individual results. This race was about doing something extreme to raise money for people affected by autism. When I realized what a little bitch I sounded like in my own head things started to change. My raising awareness through participating in this event brought in donations well over $2000.00 (thanks to an anonymous $500.00 donation!) and that is going to help ease the burden that some people have to bear day in and day out. I had 5 hours and 26 minutes of trial and tribulation over the course of one day. What business do I have to be upset about anything dealing with a paddle board race? As soon as I took a cold shower and rinsed all the dumb-ass negativity I had created within my soul I started to feel great about being involved with the SEA Paddle NYC event. This race was a beautiful thing and I am glad I did it. And damn, that Dos Equis amber tasted great!

Much love and respect to all the people who participated. This is not an easy undertaking. Rob Rojas is a beast for winning this SUP race two years in a row. That is just an amazing example of power, skill, and endurance. When is he teaching a clinic in the future!!??

Not reaching my goal was not a defeat but an experience, a lesson to learn from to put to good use for the future. How I respond to not getting my way might have been the lesson God wanted me to learn. When one door closes another opens. I prayed boldly but also had apprehension about getting in over my head with this 26.5 miles of paddling. You can't waver and get the results you hope for.

So...what did I really learn? I am already plotting out how to train for next year. Here are a few highlights that stick out in my mind:

I know I don't need to go away from Gracie and the mongrels for such a long time (unless she is being a big pain the ass during the time leading up to the race). I can have a damn beer if I want to during training. Not eating dairy does help my lung efficiency. Going to church is a good thing year round, not just the Sundays leading up to a race. Paddling with people is much more fun than paddling by yourself. Molokai 2 Oahu is less than a year away. Testing yourself helps you to grow. Other people need your time and help and you should make time and use resources to give it to them.

One last note that I took away from the SEA Paddle NYC even and that is: I have the constitution of a machine because I can let some of the East River get by my lips (and it does taste awful) and the next day be able to walk by a bathroom without even a glance and I do not glow at night...so far.

More about → Post Race Musings

Caught off guard, sickened, and tempted...way tempted.

Type in the word 'obesity' on the Chicago Tribune's website and 10 pages worth of material becomes immediately available to the reader. Articles ranging from a pill that fights obesity to the way obesity campaigns should not shame a child all point out the fact that there is a problem that affects an enormous amount of people around the world. In 2008 the CDC reported that in the city of Chicago 1 out of every 4 adults were considered obese according to body mass indexes (stat taken from the website hispanicallyspeakingnews.com in an article published April 4, 2011). According to many BMI figures I am considered obese so I don't always agree with statistics but the point I am trying to make is that there are definitely health-related problems and one's diet is a major issue. A walk through the Loop at lunchtime is evidence enough. The amount of articles published by the Tribune, just in the last month, that deal with diet, obesity, diabetes, and other similar issues is overwhelming. So I found the front page of today's Good Eating section in the print edition rather disturbing and even dangerous. The article about poundcake and all the suggestions of ways to use it is a careless misstep by the powers that be at the newspaper. I thought high-brow suggestions of affordable wines that cost over twenty dollars in a tragic economy with exorbitant unemployment rates was ludicrous but today's article takes the cake...tee effing hee.

I am no dietician but does poundcake offer anything of nutritional value to a human being unless said human being is attempting to fight off freezing cold temperatures without a winter coat? Perhaps I might step out on the very end of a flimsy ice-covered limb and go ahead and state that poundcake is not a healthy subject to write about on page one of Good Eating. My history at devouring all forms of unhealthy food items and the results is well-documented in my family scrapbook. Poundcake played a starring role during the dessert portion of family gatherings at the dining-room table. To combat the effects rendered by poundcake I had to muster up a lot of energy then put my butt in my Buick and drive
that car to the YMCA. I know first hand what can happen and I found this out way before society fell apart and everything started to really suck, like it does now, if you aren't party of the 1%ers. For some reason it seems even harder in contemporary society to combat everything that is unhealthy, especially eating. I think the main reason is that eating healthy is much more expensive but that is a whole other issue. Time to get back to the fools that the Tribune Company hires and pays salaries to...

The poundcake article points out that bread does not really do as much for certain dishes as poundcake does. Such dishes that could use a little more umph to them by adding poundcake are: rum balls, french toast, apple charlotte, croutons, and toad in the hole. None of the items listed do anyone's waistline any good and adding poundcake to them is one of the most irresponsible suggestions I have ever come across in a newspaper.

Reading the directions of how to make these recipes was like a how-to book on how to ruin yourself. "Cut thin slices of poundcake and butter them or dip in melted butter"..."dunk 1/2-inch-thick slices of poundcake in egg mixture and fry in butter"..."fry the slice and the hole in butter or, better yet, bacon fat" ...are all quotes from the article written by the brilliant James P. DeWan. My favorite quote comes from one of the headlines: "When good isn't good enough, use this classic dessert (and break the bread habit) to build unexpected delights." Break the bread habit would only be a good suggestion if the alternative was using a piece of Romane lettuce.

Healthy eating is not an issue that needs any competition. Sweet treats are attractive enough as they are. Who doesn't think about ice cream, M and Ms, and chocolate chip cookies? I think about ice cream, more than sex and that is why I cannot keep a gallon of Breyers Mint Chocolate Chip in the freezer to last a week; it lasts only one sitting. The general public does not need any help creating those cravings for artery-clogging indulgences. In moderation there is nothing wrong with sweet rewards but maintaining moderation in most anything unhealthy, especially things that taste like heaven, often proves to be very difficult. Publishing an article about poundcake front and center on page one is irresponsible reporting and editing. Adding pictures of the dishes makes me wonder if Mr. DeWan is actually trying to bring this country down using incendiary tactics.

I cannot imagine how the First Lady might react reading this article from her hometown newspaper (which is probably why the Tribune printed it). Her campaign to fight childhood obesity should be applauded and backed at every opportunity; even by right-leaning periodicals. Below is a link to her website to combat any talk of poundcake and other sweets:

http://www.letsmove.gov/

The only safe thing to take away from this lack of discretion by the Tribune is the fact that nobody reads the print edition anymore. I had a hard time finding the poundcake article online. Bravo for that, Tribune.

More about → Caught off guard, sickened, and tempted...way tempted.