So this weekend, my parents brought me my own personal gym. The soloflex had stayed up in the second story of my parents hourse for years and they made the mistake of asking me if I could use it. Trying not to exert the overwhemling desperation flowing through my veins, I managed to hold off a few seconds before I responded with a definitive "yes." So Friday, my parents and my sister came down to College Station to take away the old weight bench and drop off a pretty cool personal gym. Yeah, it's not the most high-tech training system, but it works for a dude who doesn't want to pay 30 dollars a month to go to a gym (that isn't even open and HIS ideal hours) and whose schedule is so strange he doesn't feel right about using free weights at night alone with a poppy shoulder.
I look at it as a new toy. I approached just like I woudl a video game. Without reading the instructions I decided to see if I could bench press the 50 pound straps on each side. I gradually lowered the weight until 10 pounds were on each side. At first, I felt like a complete whuss, but I did remember my father procide me with sage advice warning me to start with smaller weight. He confirmed it when I called him later by saying "It's a little harder than you think." It's not like free wieghts, those bands can be pretty hard to move even if you are a stacked muscle-head. Maybe that's why the maximum weight is only 50 pounds.
I had some time last night and before work and I'm pretty sure I'm sore because of my 30-45 minute work out. I still have the butterfly attachment hooked up and it tempts me everytime I walk by. In addition, I'm not sure where I'm going to stick my bike because the soloflex encompasses it's old hangout. I enjoy the acquirement though. I can watch TV as I fidget with the settings and even run though several sets in a few minutes.
I just hope I dont start to resemble some sort of steroid-driven muscle-head, I'd hate for my super-wide shoulders to prevent me from passing through doors
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
My 5K
Most of you know I have a running problem. What I mean by that is I talk about, must go and think about running all the time. Lately, I just joke that I can't quit anytime, and it rings true. It had been awhile since I signed up for a race and with beautiful weather expected over the next few days -- sarcasm people, it was about 20 degrees outside --I figured what the heck. I did set my alarm for a reasonable time, 6:30 a.m., and figured that would give me enough time to stretch, get dressed and arrive in plenty of time to run those three miles. In the morning I was sleepy and groaned as I rolled over and set my alarm for 7-something.
At 7:20 I finally got up, threw my stuff on, awkwardly located my iPod and stepped into the first pari of shoes I can across as I stumbled out the door, I do think I smacked into it on my way out. When I got into the car I knew I was going to start a little late, it was about 7:28 and as I pulled onto Southwest Parkway. Sleep still in my eyes I made it to what I am calling the Zachery parking lot near the polo fields. "You running?" a volunteer asked as I admitted I had slept through my alarm, signed in and pinned my number (170) to my Texas A&M sweatshirt my dad gave me on my trip to the DFdubb.
I quickly took off although my iPod was not in the proper pocket, my earbuds were not firmly secured in my ears, I had no time to strech, muscles were still cold and I was fidgeting with my pockets because I took my keys, wallet, and phone along with me. I'm sure I looked a little silly as i ran with one hand in one pocket, the other on my ear as my stride ressembled Igor's from the Hunchback of Notre Dame, great way to attract the non-existant ladies.
But the volunteer was right, as I turned the corner I saw PEOPLE. And I did catch up. Luckily, I had usually run around the A&M golf course and Bonfire memorial so I was extremely familiar with the course. To add to my dismay, about a mile from the finish my shoelace was untied and I coulf feel my shoe slipping off. Too stubborn to stop, and wary of my horrible time I just kept going. I even sprinted like a one-legged pirate near the end. I figure I started at 7:38 a.m.and when I hit the finish line it was 8:00 a.m. Makes me wonder what would have happened if I started with everyone else.
Mental note to self: Get to races on time. (You can pass more people that way).
At 7:20 I finally got up, threw my stuff on, awkwardly located my iPod and stepped into the first pari of shoes I can across as I stumbled out the door, I do think I smacked into it on my way out. When I got into the car I knew I was going to start a little late, it was about 7:28 and as I pulled onto Southwest Parkway. Sleep still in my eyes I made it to what I am calling the Zachery parking lot near the polo fields. "You running?" a volunteer asked as I admitted I had slept through my alarm, signed in and pinned my number (170) to my Texas A&M sweatshirt my dad gave me on my trip to the DFdubb.
"They just took off, so if you hurry you might be able to catch some of them.." the volunteer continued.
I quickly took off although my iPod was not in the proper pocket, my earbuds were not firmly secured in my ears, I had no time to strech, muscles were still cold and I was fidgeting with my pockets because I took my keys, wallet, and phone along with me. I'm sure I looked a little silly as i ran with one hand in one pocket, the other on my ear as my stride ressembled Igor's from the Hunchback of Notre Dame, great way to attract the non-existant ladies.
But the volunteer was right, as I turned the corner I saw PEOPLE. And I did catch up. Luckily, I had usually run around the A&M golf course and Bonfire memorial so I was extremely familiar with the course. To add to my dismay, about a mile from the finish my shoelace was untied and I coulf feel my shoe slipping off. Too stubborn to stop, and wary of my horrible time I just kept going. I even sprinted like a one-legged pirate near the end. I figure I started at 7:38 a.m.and when I hit the finish line it was 8:00 a.m. Makes me wonder what would have happened if I started with everyone else.
Mental note to self: Get to races on time. (You can pass more people that way).
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Running for Leslie: The director's cut
I signed up months ago for the Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon in San Antonio. While I had trained a year prior to perform this miraculous feat, I suddenly found myself more concerned about one particular family member. A day before my big run, my parents informed me that my sister Leslie had cataracts and needed eye surgery or she was likely to go blind within a year.
See, Leslie is a very special case. She is severely mentally retarded; but her condition is not like the characters portrayed in most TV shows and movies. The best analogy is that she is a 3-year-old living in a 29-year-old’s body. She can say some words and has ways to communicate with others. For instance, if she is hungry she will open the refrigerator, grab a TV dinner and hand it to you. If you take too long, she will follow you around and stare at you until dinner is served.
Leslie’s greatest joy is to go outside and swing. She often spends hours outdoors singing, swinging and swimming when it’s warm enough.
As I embarked on my own personal quest to run 26.2 miles I found myself conflicted. Part of me tried to focus on the race, struggled to fight a knee injury after the 13th mile and managed to hobble my way to the finish line. The rest of my thoughts centered on my sister and her pain in the next few weeks. Despite all the challenges before me, I couldn’t shake the concerns about the operation. “Nothing else matters but Leslie,” I told my mother as Dec. 1 – the day of her surgery neared.
As that day drew closer, I felt like I needed to do something to support her. Because I lived 3 hours away and have a full-time job, I knew I couldn’t be there for the surgeries and I knew she wouldn’t understand why all the people were poking at and prodding her. Most of all, I knew she wouldn’t be able to go outside everyday like she had in the past. That meant the activities she loved most would have to be limited or she might have to change some behaviors (such as wearing sunglasses when she’s outdoors).
For the past few months, I have secretly devoted big races to people I know: the Disney Half Marathon in California to my late Uncle Mickey and the San Antonio marathon to my parents. As usual my brain started to formulate a plan and I soon discovered a new goal: I’d run everyday this month while my sister spent more time indoors.
After her first surgery, my parents told me things went well. Despite being a little nervous and having to wear an eye patch, Leslie seemed a little uncomfortable, but otherwise fine. Initially, I found myself sympathetic and feeling sorry for her, but the next day when the doctor removed the eye patch brought some extremely positive news. For months, Leslie’s puzzles remained untouched on top of a shelf. At one time, she would work on them daily, but her blurry vision hampered her from making out the shapes. As soon as she got home, she rushed to the puzzles, took them down and started putting them together. My mom took a picture with the message “Leslie can see.” The first surgery had gone so well that the doctor soon suggested the next one be bumped up by a few weeks to Dec. 15, my birthday. This surgery also went well, but some complications might mean more time back in the doctor’s office.
As I started running 31 days in a row, I knew I’d be breaking some rules. Most runners know going so much without taking rest days can end in injury and soreness. But this time, I really didn’t care about distance. This challenge was about sparing a few minutes each day for someone who would rather spend hours in my place.
I have stayed true to my goal. Even after exhausting days at work I went on late-night runs down Southwest Parkway, many times even turning that corner on Anderson to run to campus and back. On the day of her second surgery, which also went well, I estimated I had run more than 50 miles. There have been days where I had to back away from the typical 9-mile runs and pound the pavement for only a few. Yet, I found myself making excuses to run, putting my duty before anything else and even canceling some outings with friends. There have been threats of snow days and once this week I neglected the need for proper running gear and ran by the Bonfire Memorial in jeans, a fleece and my one of my snowboarding jackets. Through it all, I managed to find time, make time and keep going.
As my family celebrated Christmas, Leslie was able to walk with no problems; see clearly and even got to swing when the sun wasn’t out. These series of events might seem trivial, but her joy has reminded others of the simple privileges most take for granted and the importance of enjoying time with family and friends.
When I visited my family for the holidays it was evident Leslie could see clearly out of both eyes (maybe a little too well). For example, most people in my family know the risks of leaving your food unattended during holiday dinners. Leslie will act like your best friend until you get up to leave. On your return, you’ll discover Leslie has pillaged your ham, baked potato and most of your silverware. Since Leslie can see she’s back on to her strategic and sneaky ways.
Chris Hawkes is the assistant news editor at The Eagle and has a few more days left to run this month. Although he’ll probably just keep running every day until his sister is completely in the clear.
On the Web
I made a Facebook group titled “Running for Leslie” to update others about her operations, status and the daily runs at http://www.facebook.com/#/group.php?gid=365862910009
See, Leslie is a very special case. She is severely mentally retarded; but her condition is not like the characters portrayed in most TV shows and movies. The best analogy is that she is a 3-year-old living in a 29-year-old’s body. She can say some words and has ways to communicate with others. For instance, if she is hungry she will open the refrigerator, grab a TV dinner and hand it to you. If you take too long, she will follow you around and stare at you until dinner is served.
Leslie’s greatest joy is to go outside and swing. She often spends hours outdoors singing, swinging and swimming when it’s warm enough.
As I embarked on my own personal quest to run 26.2 miles I found myself conflicted. Part of me tried to focus on the race, struggled to fight a knee injury after the 13th mile and managed to hobble my way to the finish line. The rest of my thoughts centered on my sister and her pain in the next few weeks. Despite all the challenges before me, I couldn’t shake the concerns about the operation. “Nothing else matters but Leslie,” I told my mother as Dec. 1 – the day of her surgery neared.
As that day drew closer, I felt like I needed to do something to support her. Because I lived 3 hours away and have a full-time job, I knew I couldn’t be there for the surgeries and I knew she wouldn’t understand why all the people were poking at and prodding her. Most of all, I knew she wouldn’t be able to go outside everyday like she had in the past. That meant the activities she loved most would have to be limited or she might have to change some behaviors (such as wearing sunglasses when she’s outdoors).
For the past few months, I have secretly devoted big races to people I know: the Disney Half Marathon in California to my late Uncle Mickey and the San Antonio marathon to my parents. As usual my brain started to formulate a plan and I soon discovered a new goal: I’d run everyday this month while my sister spent more time indoors.
After her first surgery, my parents told me things went well. Despite being a little nervous and having to wear an eye patch, Leslie seemed a little uncomfortable, but otherwise fine. Initially, I found myself sympathetic and feeling sorry for her, but the next day when the doctor removed the eye patch brought some extremely positive news. For months, Leslie’s puzzles remained untouched on top of a shelf. At one time, she would work on them daily, but her blurry vision hampered her from making out the shapes. As soon as she got home, she rushed to the puzzles, took them down and started putting them together. My mom took a picture with the message “Leslie can see.” The first surgery had gone so well that the doctor soon suggested the next one be bumped up by a few weeks to Dec. 15, my birthday. This surgery also went well, but some complications might mean more time back in the doctor’s office.
As I started running 31 days in a row, I knew I’d be breaking some rules. Most runners know going so much without taking rest days can end in injury and soreness. But this time, I really didn’t care about distance. This challenge was about sparing a few minutes each day for someone who would rather spend hours in my place.
I have stayed true to my goal. Even after exhausting days at work I went on late-night runs down Southwest Parkway, many times even turning that corner on Anderson to run to campus and back. On the day of her second surgery, which also went well, I estimated I had run more than 50 miles. There have been days where I had to back away from the typical 9-mile runs and pound the pavement for only a few. Yet, I found myself making excuses to run, putting my duty before anything else and even canceling some outings with friends. There have been threats of snow days and once this week I neglected the need for proper running gear and ran by the Bonfire Memorial in jeans, a fleece and my one of my snowboarding jackets. Through it all, I managed to find time, make time and keep going.
As my family celebrated Christmas, Leslie was able to walk with no problems; see clearly and even got to swing when the sun wasn’t out. These series of events might seem trivial, but her joy has reminded others of the simple privileges most take for granted and the importance of enjoying time with family and friends.
When I visited my family for the holidays it was evident Leslie could see clearly out of both eyes (maybe a little too well). For example, most people in my family know the risks of leaving your food unattended during holiday dinners. Leslie will act like your best friend until you get up to leave. On your return, you’ll discover Leslie has pillaged your ham, baked potato and most of your silverware. Since Leslie can see she’s back on to her strategic and sneaky ways.
Chris Hawkes is the assistant news editor at The Eagle and has a few more days left to run this month. Although he’ll probably just keep running every day until his sister is completely in the clear.
On the Web
I made a Facebook group titled “Running for Leslie” to update others about her operations, status and the daily runs at http://www.facebook.com/#/group.php?gid=365862910009
Friday, December 18, 2009
It's been a strange day.
I really have not been right all day. I don't know what it is. My co-worker told me I seemed quiet at work, I left my silly santa hat at home and for some reason it didn't bother me.There's a line that little asian dude says that strikes a chord. "My spirit and my mind are going north and south." Part of me wants to be outside, see the sun and is constantly looking for an excuse to be away from the apartment. The other side of me know exactly why I have all this weird energy. I know I'm on the verge of writing that column, secluding myself from all outside diversions and just sitting down and getting all those thoughts that have been swirling in my head the past two weeks down on paper.
Which I know is coming in a few.
Which I know is coming in a few.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
This one's for you Leslie
Two days ago, my sister had eye surgery. Leslie is severely mentally retarded. Her case is vastly different than the mentally retarded people portrayed in the movies. While most of the time, these people with special needs are characterized as bufoons, reality is much more scary. The best way to describe my sister is that she has the mind of the 3-year-old in a 29-years-old's body. She can communicate -- if she is hungry she will open the fridge and put a tv dinner in your hand and expect you to cook it for her or stare at you regardless of the lame excuses or protests you might give -- but no one could really explain to her what had to happen or why. We learned that if she didn't have the surgery she could go blind in a year.
So for the last few days, I and the rest of my family have been a little nervous, a little wary and hoping for the best. Monday she had the operation, which my parents say only took a few minutes, but all the prep and post work kept the trio there for a few hours. My dad sent me a picture of Leslie with a eye patch and everytime I look at it (two or three times) I get extremely sad. It's hard for me to watch anyone suffer, but when it is my sister, someone who doesn't have a mean spirit in her soul, it gets to me.
Leslie's greatest joy is going outside and swinging. While I was getting my masters and when I visited she would spend hours outside swinging and singing. This was back in a time where I enjoyed the comforts of my own little box and was much more interested in the electronic distractions of most people my age. We'd have to eventually tell her she had to come in because she spent so much time outside. Now, she might not be able to swing as much, at least temporarily and my parents might have to train her to wear sunglasses before she goes out. That means drastic changes and a reprieve from the thing she enjoys most.
I decided two days ago, that I'm going to run everyday until my sister's surgeries are over. I originally planned to do the entire month of Decemeber, but a few more days won't hurt. Keep in mind, I'm not as concerned about distance this time. This might be a 2-mile run or a 10-mile run. I figure I can sacrafice at least an hour of my day to support my her and try to catch up her hours logged outdoors. I know I have to do it anyway because lately problems like cancelling plans, being single, having the dishwasher die or a flood of galactic proportions in my bathroom seem awfully petty. I secretly have devoted runs to others, but purposely neglected to tell them (my uncle Mickey at the Disney Half and my parents for San Antonio). So Leslie, these 30-or-so days are for you. I'm sure there will be snow, sleet, cold weather and freezing rain, but hey, I like a challenge.
Yesterday, I called my parents after getting a text saying "Leslie can see." Apparently, minutes after getting home she went directly to her puzzles and started putting them together. For months, Leslie ignored them because she couldn't make out the shapes or decipher where the pieces fit. So, at the moment, things fare well.
So for the last few days, I and the rest of my family have been a little nervous, a little wary and hoping for the best. Monday she had the operation, which my parents say only took a few minutes, but all the prep and post work kept the trio there for a few hours. My dad sent me a picture of Leslie with a eye patch and everytime I look at it (two or three times) I get extremely sad. It's hard for me to watch anyone suffer, but when it is my sister, someone who doesn't have a mean spirit in her soul, it gets to me.
Leslie's greatest joy is going outside and swinging. While I was getting my masters and when I visited she would spend hours outside swinging and singing. This was back in a time where I enjoyed the comforts of my own little box and was much more interested in the electronic distractions of most people my age. We'd have to eventually tell her she had to come in because she spent so much time outside. Now, she might not be able to swing as much, at least temporarily and my parents might have to train her to wear sunglasses before she goes out. That means drastic changes and a reprieve from the thing she enjoys most.
I decided two days ago, that I'm going to run everyday until my sister's surgeries are over. I originally planned to do the entire month of Decemeber, but a few more days won't hurt. Keep in mind, I'm not as concerned about distance this time. This might be a 2-mile run or a 10-mile run. I figure I can sacrafice at least an hour of my day to support my her and try to catch up her hours logged outdoors. I know I have to do it anyway because lately problems like cancelling plans, being single, having the dishwasher die or a flood of galactic proportions in my bathroom seem awfully petty. I secretly have devoted runs to others, but purposely neglected to tell them (my uncle Mickey at the Disney Half and my parents for San Antonio). So Leslie, these 30-or-so days are for you. I'm sure there will be snow, sleet, cold weather and freezing rain, but hey, I like a challenge.
Yesterday, I called my parents after getting a text saying "Leslie can see." Apparently, minutes after getting home she went directly to her puzzles and started putting them together. For months, Leslie ignored them because she couldn't make out the shapes or decipher where the pieces fit. So, at the moment, things fare well.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
My hair
As I have conqueued that whole doing a marathon in less then a year. Really, I did that in less then a year, I should be cocky as hell, it takes years for some people to even get to this point. Well as I was saying before I interuppted myself, I have been feeling to conservative. I don't know if it's this town or my overwhelming urge to be the lone outcast in a world or "normalcy," but the sideburns don't seem to be working. They aren't enough, as I usually do in these situations, I have been targeting my hair. Sure I can dye it, but it would have to be BRIGHT RED, maybe blue and eventually the big boss would fine out, hell at least I would know that my snowboarding vacation would go off with out any strings, except for that whole eating thing. Regardless, my hair is too long, but I feel like I just got it cut. Or, I have become so metrosexual (thank my obsession with project runway) that if my hair starts to wave I MUST CHOP IT OFF! I have wondered how a more aerodynamic look might suit me. Some have suggested I get a mohawk, which is ironic because I always joked about it, but who do I trust with the razor?
This weekend, I found myself snickering at the Gap and Old Navy during my hunt for holiday gifts. The only thing I like anymore seems to be the painters jeans, and now, since Greg has taught me the ways of California (that they make clothes for people with a small frame), I find myself re-examining my wardrobe. I do like my running gear and have become such an elitist runner that tanktops and shorts are the only things I'll exercise in. On Saturday, I found myself venturing into the Guess store for the first time in my adult life, and sadly, I liked what I saw. Luckily, the store clerk moved a little too slow and I wasn't obligated to buy anything or take home that pimp black shirt. Maybe my since of outrageousness has been cooped up for too long. It's time to unleash it's fury.
This weekend, I found myself snickering at the Gap and Old Navy during my hunt for holiday gifts. The only thing I like anymore seems to be the painters jeans, and now, since Greg has taught me the ways of California (that they make clothes for people with a small frame), I find myself re-examining my wardrobe. I do like my running gear and have become such an elitist runner that tanktops and shorts are the only things I'll exercise in. On Saturday, I found myself venturing into the Guess store for the first time in my adult life, and sadly, I liked what I saw. Luckily, the store clerk moved a little too slow and I wasn't obligated to buy anything or take home that pimp black shirt. Maybe my since of outrageousness has been cooped up for too long. It's time to unleash it's fury.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
The rage is back...again
I shouldn't have called the dealer. I knew what they were going to say, they said it and now I have to shell out money the car problem. So, it seems that I am a little annoyed today right before I head to work. Looks like I am going to spend more time at home against my will.
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