Month: April 2022

Daily Life

I Sense A Disturbance In The Force

I live a pretty idyllic life. For the most part I bumble along day to day without much of a care in the world. I’m rarely in a bad mood. I’m kind of a golden retriever, fat, dumb, and happy, ready to go play and do whatever anyone wants to do. Things tend to just work out and I never have to make any hard decisions about anything. I’m certainly blessed.

But this year has been different. Things are just a bit… off. There isn’t any one thing that’s wrong. It’s been a collection of small disturbances in the force that have put me off my game. If I described any one of my woes in detail, you’d look at me and laugh – “seriously dude, that’s the sum total of your issue? Do you not realize how fortunate you are?” And you’d be right. There’s nothing earth shattering going on. It just feels like a lot of little things, all adding up.

And the end result is that I’ve lost my flow. My mojo. I just can’t seem to get motivated. My routines from the last few years have been disrupted. And the creme de la creme, the icing on the cake, has been the weather. This spring has been awful. Cold. Wet. Rain. Snow. Mud. And the wind. Oh my god, the wind has been horrible. It feels like every day I had available to go outside and do something it was either raining or the wind was howling. The end result was that I’ve spent more days sitting in a chair reading a book, surfing the internet, and napping than I ever have in my life. And as they say in the physics world, momentum is the product of mass and velocity of a body. Once you get going, it takes very little to maintain momentum. Unfortunately, I have a large mass and zero velocity. It takes a pretty big impulse to get things moving.

Yesterday I decided to get things moving. It was windy, but at least it was sunny and not freezing. I spent the entire day doing yard work, cleanup, and a run to the dump. I felt pretty good about it. That evening we were to meet some folks for dinner. Mrs Troutdog tried to pick someplace slightly different; an outdoor venue to listen to a band. As soon as she said it, I should have said let’s do something else. I really didn’t feel like sitting out in the wind. But, I’m a golden retriever and didn’t want to be the party pooper. So I said “sure, whatever you want”.

We show up and it turns out to be a country band. And I hate country music. I can listen to most anything. Just not country music. And our table is literally ten feet from the speaker. So what did I do? I had a temper tantrum. A full-on, five year old throwing themselves down in the middle of the grocery aisle screaming temper tantrum. Not my finest moment.

I really don’t know why. Normally I’m pretty good at going with the flow in that sort of scenario. Maybe have an extra adult beverage and just make the best of it. Yesterday I just couldn’t. Very out of character for me.

Clearly the collection of small little things and the never-ending horrible weather accumulated in my brain more than I’d thought. It’s past due time to find the impulse to get the momentum moving. I had my little pity party. We’re through the worst of spring and summer is just around the corner. In fact, I officially declare today to be the first day of the summer season. Let’s get the party started! God knows, nobody likes seeing grown-ass men having temper tantrums in the grocery store aisle.

You know how there’s psychiatrists who will help you become desensitized to things like fear of flying or snakes? Maybe there’s one for country music? Twelve straight hours of Kenny Chesney and you’re cured! I may need that.

Cool

Out For A Ride

The bike is somehow bigger than I remember. Even though I’ve seen it almost every day in the garage, I haven’t really been looking at it. The motorcycle has been patiently waiting all winter for a nice day and the start of riding season. I pull on my helmet and fumble with the chinstrap. It’s been a while. Gloves on and jacket zipped.

I push the bike off the center stand. The weight briefly surprises me. I didn’t remember it being so heavy last summer. I roll the bike down the driveway and set it on the side stand. Pushing the start button, the engine roars to life. It’s such a powerful sound. Maybe appreciating the sound of engines is just a guy thing? Swinging my leg over, I try to get comfortable. Adjust the mirrors. Blip the throttle a few times ’cause it sounds cool. A tiny flash of nerves in the pit of my stomach. I put it in gear and go.

The first few turns are a bit awkward. I fumble to find the turn signal. Brake a little too hard and have a jerky stop at a stop sign. The tires are brand new, so I’m cautious around corners. The new tires are more aggressive than the previous, more street oriented set. I can feel the vibration through my hands. I don’t have a feel yet of how hard I can push them on the street.

As the miles roll by, the sense of flow slowly returns. I start seeing the corner apex again. Off the throttle, lean and push, then smoothly accelerate through the turn. On a long straightaway I open the throttle all the way and zoom through the gears. The acceleration pushes me back in my seat and the engine roars. I’m grinning inside my helmet.

It’s a little colder than I was expecting. I zip up the jacket all the way. Flip up the visor so I can feel the wind and smell the countryside. My eyes quickly start watering in the cold, so visor back down. I’m certainly not the only one out for a ride. Biker after biker goes by. Everyone gives a wave and a knowing nod. The biker community has been cooped up all winter. We’re all out shaking off the rust and dreaming of warm summer day rides.

I slowly work my way back through town. Now I feel like I have my traffic flow back. That sense of anticipating what cars are going to do. Quick lane changes to accelerate around vehicles slowing to turn into driveways. Pedestrians who launch themselves into crosswalks without looking. My stops and starts are smooth now. I’m in the zone.

I turn into my neighborhood. Glance at the clock. Is there time to ride a bit longer? No, sun is going down. I’m a little cold. We’ll call this a good first ride. It’s nice to be back on the bike. I’ve missed it.

Daily Life, Diet, Health

The Struggle Is Real

 
Who knew that the hardest part of being an adult is figuring out what to cook for dinner every single night for the rest of your life until you die

Today, I stepped on the scale for the first time in a month. Why so long? Because I knew what the number would be. I’ve been going to the gym faithfully and am seeing significant gains. The range of motion in my chronically injured shoulder is hugely improved. Flexibility and proprioception are better than they’ve been in a very long time. Overall, I feel much better. But… I can tell that my waistline hasn’t changed, so I’ve intentionally ignored the scale. Oh, I look at it every morning. I tell myself that tomorrow I’ll step on it for sure. But I don’t really want to know the number because it’ll force me to accept reality. So I put it off for another day. And then another. And another.

I do see some positive physical changes with all the gym work. Shoulders seem a little more defined. I can tell the abs and trunk are stronger. The legs feel stronger from all the squats I’ve been doing. I tell myself that if the number on the scale went up, it’s probably because I’ve added muscle mass. I optimistically told myself that the bodyweight number won’t have changed, but muscle mass will go up and bodyfat will have gone down. So, I took a deep breath and stepped on the scale.

I gained a pound, muscle mass went down and bodyfat went up. Shit. How is that even possible?

I really am tired of thinking about food. The worst part is that my diet isn’t horrible. It’s not like I’m eating at McDonalds and Taco Bell every day. I’m not snacking on chips, doughnuts, or eating pizza every night. I don’t drink soda. I usually eat two meals a day. Mid-day I have a few pieces of cheese or some popcorn. Dinner is a protein and a vegetable. I couldn’t tell you the last time I had a dessert. We eat out maybe once a week.

Now don’t get me wrong, I know exactly why I don’t lose weight. The biggest culprit is the volume of food. I may only eat two meals a day, but they’re 50% bigger than they need to be. I don’t just put a little sauce, dressing, or butter on something, I put a LOT on. There are too many empty calories from alcohol consumed. The snacking, while not bad foods, happens more times during the day than I want to admit.

So, I know exactly how to fix the problem. The issue is that I’m sick of thinking about food. I’m tired of thinking about calories, eating something and then feeling guilty and mad at myself afterwards. I’m tired of having to plug every morsel into a food calculator to see where I am on calories. I hate the feeling of going out to eat and having the internal struggle with the menu. I should order a salad or plain fish, but a burger and fries are what I really want. I restrict and starve, then eat too big a portion, do a bunch of cardio and then have three beers that night. I resolve to eat something really healthy and then make a salad the size of my head and add a full cup of dressing, cheese and bacon. I eat dinner every night like clockwork, even though I ate three chicken pieces a few hours earlier and I’m not really hungry. I’m just tired of agonizing over food.

I wish I understood why food is such a struggle. I resent having to obsess over the almighty calorie. I’m pissed that I’ve basically written some version of this same post probably a dozen times over the last few years and yet, here I am again. I fear I’m starting to sound like a teenage girl with an eating disorder.

Sigh. Ok, end of rant. Back to figuring out some sort of sustainable meal plan. And cardio. Need more cardio. The struggle is real.

Daily Life

I Wasn’t Prepared

Waaaay back, in another life, I was on a search and rescue team. I’m pretty sure every rescue we went out on was for hikers who were completely unprepared. They didn’t tell anyone where they were going. They didn’t bring any gear or clothing appropriate to the situation. They didn’t have a map. 98% of the time these folks would have been just fine. But every once in a while, the stars lined up and the gods decided to mix things up. A sprained ankle. Ran out of water. Took the wrong trail. The weather took a nasty turn. Nightfall came faster than expected. Suddenly these hapless hikers would be facing a cold overnight stay and cell phones that were dead or out of range. Being better prepared doesn’t guarantee you’ll stay out of trouble. But when trouble comes knocking, you’ll have a better chance of a good outcome.

As you can imagine, I’d generally go a bit overboard with my survival prep back in those days. It would have been a tad embarrassing for a search and rescue guy to get lost and have to be rescued. The team had plenty of gear standards and constantly did pack inspections to ensure everyone was squared away. As the training officer, I had to lead by example so even a simple hour-long hike somewhere required taking a ridiculous amount of gear.

Now that I’m back in the real world and many years removed from those days, my survival prep is considerably scaled back. My approach is to think about the worst possible scenario and make sure I can survive that. I probably get a bit too casual about it at times, much to Mrs Troutdog’s consternation, but I generally believe I’m a pretty safe outdoorsman. (knock on wood)

Yesterday I pulled my smaller dual-sport motorcycle out of winter hibernation and got ready for its first ride of the season. I had to put the battery back in and decided it would be wise to use the tools I carry on the bike, just to be sure I could do it in the field if I had to. Look at how smart I am!

I pulled the tool roll out, unfolded it and… there was almost nothing in it. The wrenches I had were the wrong size for the bike. No Allen keys. The butt of a screwdriver but no bits. What the hell? I have no idea what happened. I honestly couldn’t remember if I’d had everything in there at one time and then cannibalized it for something else? Maybe I’d started putting a tool kit together and then forgot it wasn’t done? Perhaps the sock stealing gremlin snuck into the garage and stole my tools?

Regardless, I’ve been riding around without the ability to fix anything. Had something happened out on the trail I couldn’t have done anything other than hike out. I couldn’t even have changed a tube if I got a puncture. I got lucky.

So now I’m putting together a proper tool kit for that bike. Seeing that it’s spring, it’s a perfect time to go through all my gear and make sure everything is dialed in. Bikes, motorcycles, hiking gear, trail running, fishing stuff. I should probably also go through my vehicle survival bag and repair kit.

How crazy do you need to go with prepping? I think it depends on your skillset for that activity. But generally, I think the right attitude to adopt is: Assume no one is coming. Expect to self-rescue and prepare accordingly.

We all need a reminder from time to time that mechanical things can and do break down. Shit happens. Fortunately my reminder came while I was still in the garage.

Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale,
A tale of a fateful trip
That started from this tropic port
Aboard this tiny ship.

The mate was a mighty sailing man,
The skipper brave and sure.
Five passengers set sail that day
For a three hour tour, a three hour tour.

The weather started getting rough,
The tiny ship was tossed,
If not for the courage of the fearless crew
The Minnow would be lost, the Minnow would be lost.

The ship set ground on the shore of this uncharted desert isle
With Gilligan
The Skipper too,
The millionaire and his wife,
The movie star
The Professor and Mary Ann,*
Here on Gilligan’s Isle.

Daily Life, Lists

What’s Your Taste?

Music. Food. Blogs. YouTube. What’s the one thing these all have in common? They all satisfy a particular taste at a moment in time.

Take music. I have a very eclectic music playlist. Everything from reggae, blues, old school punk, OG rap, to hard core metal. What I find interesting is that on any given day I have a “taste” for a particular genre of music. I rarely just randomly listen to my playlist. When I have a taste for punk, that’s all I want to hear. If some other genre pops in, it just doesn’t sound right. Often the current taste lasts for several days and then I burn out and a new taste kicks in. It’s the same with reading or watching YouTube. I’ll get on a political kick and simply can’t get enough analysis of some weird arcane political topic. Day after day. And then suddenly, I can’t stand it anymore and move on to reading motorcycle tire reviews or the history of the Crusades or something.

The brain is an amazing thing. I find it fascinating that your brain can crave a particular input. Why do I get that dopamine hit listening to Rage Against the Machine one day, but the next it might sound like screeching static to me? Why do I have a taste for reading nothing but autobiographies for a month, and then suddenly the only thing I can stand to read are escapist spy thrillers? Does everyone’s brain work that way, or is it just me?

The real killer is when you lose your taste. That feeling of flipping through the radio, channel after channel, and nothing sounds good. Music, talk radio, sports, nothing is working. When you cycle endlessly through twitter, blogs, news sites and nothing seems even remotely interesting. What causes that? Is the brain on overload? Are you tired and don’t realize it? Dehydrated and the receptors aren’t firing? The brain is a complicated creature.

I have very little point to any of this. I started thinking about it this morning as I scrolled through YouTube. YouTube’s algorithm drives me nuts. You’d think at this point they’d be more sophisticated. I get that If I search or click on a thumbnail about a particular thing, I’m expressing interest and they want to serve me more videos about that topic. Fine. Except that they flood you with that topic.

Search for how to repair a lawnmower, and for two weeks your feed will be flooded with nothing but videos about lawnmowers, lawn care, gardening, lawnmower reviews, lawnmower racing, secrets to the perfect lawn, the best oil for lawnmowers, women in bikinis mowing the lawn (ok, I might have clicked on that one), redneck lawnmowers, careers in lawnmowing, etc… Do they not understand that taste is fleeting? How come they can’t figure out that if I haven’t clicked on a lawn mowing thumbnail in two days, I’m probably no longer interested in that topic?

Maybe rather than the random babble I push out from time to time, instead I’ll start posting nothing but my current daily “tastes”.