RIP

The Greatest that ever was.

things to be done.



I bought a pull-up bar.  I am going to exercise while I am hobbled.  Somehow dammit, I am going to burn calories whilst I am an invalid.  I think push-ups, pull-ups and planks should keep me busy for the foreseeable future.  I will probably start riding my bike to work again starting next week.  I am off to Montreal next weekend and I foresee about 1,000,000,000,000 calories in my near future.

My first night there (Friday the 10th) I am going to Joe Beef.  They are known for sheer indulgence in portion size as well as just plain caloric blasphemy.  I may have to walk about 20 miles the next day to counter act some of my feasting.  I am looking forward to their wine list as it is apparently quite interesting.  A lot of natural wines and, though I am on the fence when it comes to the "natural" wine movement, I'm hoping to get an education during my meal.

Saturday night we go to Au Pied De Cochon.  If ever a glutton had his Titanic, this meal may be it.  Excess, luxury, fat, fat and more fat.  Chances are I will be throwing up most of this meal, so maybe the calorie count will remain stable Saturday.  Here's hoping I have the courage to go all in and not faint at the sight of all that decadence.  Foie Gras Pizza?  Foie Gras Poutine?  Heaven help me.

Other than that I imagine dinner at a Bistro Sunday and at least 1 poutine a day.  Not to mention the Giant breakfasts and smoked meats for lunch.  I should probably just walk back to New York on Monday..... Oh yeah, there will also be good beer, bagels and real cheese.  I am seriously screwed.

I think my next long weekend might have to be at a yoga retreat.

god dammit



So I am out for 6-8 more weeks.  I fractured my middle toe.  We had a delivery of 1,200 cases of wine at work two days ago.  I had a palette of wine that weighed roughly 2,400 pounds on a palette jack and I ran it right over my foot.  Ouch.

I have been icing it for two days and keeping it elevated.  I need to get to CVS and pick up some wraps to keep my toe compressed.  I am very bummed.  Its like the universe doesn't want me to train.
I am sure this happens to everyone at some point and i'm sure i'll get through it.  It just sucks.

I hope I will be able to ride my bike fairly soon as I would like to have some sort of exercise happening.  But until then plenty of baseball, Game of Thrones and Netflix for me.

addendum II


I drove up to my parents house in PA last night after work (2 1/2 hours) to see my cat, Captain Marmalade.

He looked freaked out.

He ran around like a crackhead for about 20 minutes and then it was all meows and purrs and kneading of paws.  We hung out and caught up on Game of Thrones.  I think he likes the dragons.

I had taken a ribeye out of the freezer on Monday when I dropped off The Captain and I cooked it last night when I, finally, got there.  I had it with some asparagus, pomme puree and a mushroom sauce that I made using some chicken stock, cream and cognac.  I may have gone a little overboard.....

I took a pork chop out of the freezer this morning before driving back to New York (3 hours in traffic).  I am going to have that Saturday night with a nice salad of greens from my mom's garden.
Sunday, if my cold is completely gone,  I am going to go for a run.

That is all.

addendum


Matt Harvey did not come through on Tuesday, but I still have high hopes for him.

The word hubris comes to mind when I think of Mr. Harvey.   He believed the hype too much too soon.  I think he will go through a period of reflection, perhaps gain some modesty and then move forward.  Or so I hope anyway.

Mr. Steven Matz pitched a hell of a game yesterday.  

The Mets are poised to go all the way this year.  Lets stay healthy boys.

in sickness and in health and with, or without, cat



Cough. Hack. Phlem. Gack.

That was on repeat last night.  I barely slept.  My cold, or flu, or whatever, finally localized in my chest and has been giving me grief.  I sound like a sick donkey.  I would have made soup but still no use of the kitchen.  I have been told that by Thursday I should be cooking again so that is good news.

I haven't trained in days.  I have thought about it, but as I am sick I have decided to rest as best I can until my health is back.  I am getting restless to train again.  To get my routine back.  So I will approach that with caution as I don't want to hurt myself.

For too many reasons to get into, I have had to leave The Captain (my cat) in PA for the week.

ALONE.

I have left him a bunch of food and water and will drive two hours to see him tomorrow night, but I will have to leave him again Thursday morning until Saturday.  This is filling me with TONS of anxiety and remorse.  I understand that people leave their cats alone for a few days, but this is a new kind of suffering for me.  I feel like a bad parent and I probably am.  Sigh.

Not a lot to report as not a lot has been going on.  The Brooklyn Half was this weekend and I really would like to run it next year.  My big toe hurts today for no apparent reason and my hair is getting kind of long.  The Mets beat The pesky Nationals last night with Colon on the mound and tonight Harvey faces Strasburg.  This also fills me with anxiety.  I would like to see Harvey reclaim his greatness and have a big ole W to help him regain some confidence.  Fingers crossed.

I will post soon.  Hopefully I can get a run in by this weekend.  I am looking forward to it.

the cold truth of a cold box of pizza



In the cold light of THIS morning I groped for a glass of water.  My throat was parched and my head a little woozy.  I had slept like the dead and felt like the barely living.  I went out drinking last night after work.  Not a crazy, hard knuckled, throw 'em down affair, but definitely more than usual.  And to make matters worse, on my way home, I ordered a whole pizza for delivery.

It was a rookie move.  Thumb-suckery of the lowest order.  I might as well have been holding my breath and stomping my feet.  I was just over it.  The construction, the showering at friends, the going to the bathroom in the basement, the whole lot of it.  So I drank away some of my suffering and sat down in front of Braveheart to eat the rest of it away.  With a large meat-lovers pizza as my opiate.

It was pitiful.

I crawled into bed at 9:30 and was just drifting off into the sleep of the stuffed when I got a text from and old friend.

Want to go for a walk around the park? She asked.

Ugh. I thought.  The last thing I wanted to do was get out of my bed.  I just wanted to succumb to the lazy.  Just drift off to sleep with the mildest scent of pepperoni on my lips, tempting the wrath of Queen Mab.

But I wanted to see my friend and sleep was a terrible excuse.

Sure thing. 10 minutes? 

I got up, got dressed, and went to meet her.

We walked my morning loop.  Just over 3 miles.  We caught up and talked about life, eating, exercise, her son, her work, my work, life and all that good stuff.  We talked for a while because walking 3 miles takes some time!  I was surprised how long it took.  Running it, apparently, is much quicker (even in my case).

After we said our goodbyes I walked home. I felt pretty good, even smug, about getting in a 5 mile walk after the pizza.  Once I got home it was straight to bed and sleep. Which brings me to this morning and the cold light and the groggy.

Sure, I was loopy and tired and cranky and a little sore.  But after hemming and hawing for 10 minutes or so I said fuck it and got out of bed.  I put on my running shorts, my new batman t-shirt (baby blue), my running shoes and my Mets cap and then, right after walking down to the basement to go to the bathroom, I headed out for my run.