Monday, September 27, 2010
You would think that, at age 48, there would be little for me to learn about my body. But there still is.
Last Friday, I went into the office. Now, ya gotta understand, the "office" is incubator space in Worcester. Cheap, cheap, cheap. As in $100/month. Of course you get what you pay for. But we are a startup. There is no money.
Hence we have electricity, and HVAC, and lights and a lock on the door. And, quite literally, that is it.
Spent the time moving furniture in. Desks and chairs being thrown out by WPI (Worcester Polytechnic Institute, the alma mater of everyone in the company but me), whiteboards, er, "found" somewhere, a few bits bought at Ikea.
The floor is a godawful mess of less than perfectly smoothed concrete. There are a few interesting small holes in the floor (note to self: do not drop pens, paper clips or the like. Ever.). There is a small separate room which we are calling the kitchen although there is no water source. But the fridge (it reeks of bleach, which is better than when it earlier reeked of old takeout) and coffee maker (I donated that) are in there. Plus every kind of tea known to mankind (another donation by me) but no way to boil water except to run it through the coffee maker, which I hope still works.
Finally got everything in and more or less to our liking, then we spent time straightening, cleaning. They had me taking apart small robotic arms (lots of fine detail work) and sorting the screws and nuts and servos that go in there. Little motors about the width of two fingers and the length of two finger joints. I put up my Wegman calendar. We (mostly) cleared the conference table of robot parts. Soldering station is up and ready. About the only thing we don't have (and will need to continue borrowing from the school) is a laser cutter.
And then it was 3 so it ended up being lunchtime. Pizza. Oof. At least they got me a veggie one. I had the equivalent of 2 large slices. Plus diet Gatorade. Frankly, I have eaten better in my life but, like I said, we have no money.
Next day, I felt awful, like I was hung over a thousand times. Foggy head. Arms hurting. Huh, what?
I am thinking the combo of pizza plus salt (Gatorade) plus too much caffeine (we had coffee in the morning) plus different exercises than usual did it to me. It took a couple of days for that all to purge out. This morning, I feel great although I am up a coupla pounds. But that's fine -- it was a salty week. I figure the weight will be off in a week or so.
But it is telling me -- eating like a 25-year-old is something I truly cannot do any longer. I need to insist on a salad of some sort. I know, I know, there is no money. Then I need to chip in for it. Because this is absurd. It should not take me three days to recover, and not just from lifting and hauling (which, fortunately, we're done with for now). So I need to position myself better. Another thing I want to do is find an area nearby where I can walk or run safely. Probably the school is my best bet. There are a lot of hills -- some are truly substantial -- so that will be good for me.
And that brings me to two things we did that were not moving stuff. One was, heh, a coworker has a remote controlled helicopter. So he christened the space and flew the 'copter around a bit. Very amusing lil toy. We're going to play with it, see if we can get it to work with the thing we make. That should be a fun project.
The other thing was, we started talking about The Robot Run.
I have run about a dozen 5Ks by now. And I love them! So I checked around in Worcester to find one I could run there. And ... nothing. There are only two 5Ks in a year over there. Then I talked to the guy who puts them on in my area. He gave me an idea on price and what it all entails. And -- remember, we have no money -- we could potentially actually make some $$ on the deal.
So my idea (which my colleagues like, but we need more info) is for the company to put on a 5K. It would have to be in April, September, October or November in order to get the students in, but while the weather is decent and before Final exams. Of course we'd call it The Robot Run because we're a robotics company. We'd need to get sponsors and whatnot. I cannot guarantee that we would do it but I think it would be a blast. This would be -- eep -- my project.
So -- just to throw it out there -- would anyone wanna come to Worcester, Mass. and run a 5K next year? I can promise you major, massive amounts of quirkiness/geekiness. Helfino what the prizes will be. We will think of something (remember, we have access to a laser cutter).
Monday, September 20, 2010
So, like, what's new?
Me, oh nothing. Just a thirty-seven pound increase. In one week.
Huh? That's impossible.
Yeah, oops, you're right. It was actually 37.6 pounds.
Huh? So, er, jes, are ya pregnant? You know, with the World's Fastest-Growing Mutant Super Alien Ninja Baby?
So you had surgery and they put hardware in? Artificial leg, perhaps?
Incredible, Guinness Book of World Records-worthy parasitic infection?
Is it -- uh -- really possible to gain that much in a week? Like, lard cake for every meal, all week long?
No way. A pound is 3,500 calories, my metabolic rate is something like 2,000/day, so just to gain seven pounds in a week is to eat 5,500 calories/day, every day, with no working out whatsoever, and this is over five times that. Hence I'd probably have precipitated a heart attack by Thursday or so.
So what is it?
It's a new scale.
Yes, the old one was THAT bad.
It was lying, lying, lying to me even as my 5K times declined, and even as my clothes started to give me a hard time. And, looking at my measurements, they are comparable to when I was last between 195 and 205 pounds. I am certain that this one is accurate.
So I was never in the 170s, and God knows I was never in the 160s, although I definitely hit the 190s and may very well have hit the 180s. There was a slide, but it was not as huge a skid as the numbers would imply.
And it also got me thinking (and you know that's dangerous). If I can put out there, for the world to see, this crazy super mutant ninja weight "gain" (or difference, or correction, if you prefer those words), then surely every moment of shared intimacy is all right. I suspect, at some point, you will all yell "TMI!" at me. But until you do, my life to you is an open book.
Of course I have privacy. I have secrets and hidden things, just like everyone else. And I try to respect others' privacy (particularly my family's). But me you can get.
Am I disappointed? Only slightly. I love seeing happy, pretty numbers as much as anyone else does, I won't lie. But they are merely numbers.
Today's number is comparable to, I kid you not, late April of 2009. And what has happened since then? I've run, what, 11 5Ks. I've pushed myself into a new job and industry that I love. I've made friends. I've had surgery. I've blogged my head off.
Pretty numbers, ugly numbers. Heh, it's all good, dawg. Like I said in the most recent vlog, I'm catching myself before things become truly dire. I am righting the ship. I am going back to basics. I never stopped tracking, I never stopped drinking the water and I never stopped weight training, but I have been slacking off in the cardio department and I haven't been getting enough sleep. Both of those things are on my fix-it agenda. And I'm carrying all of you along with me, too (see, I toldja I do strength training).
Come along, my Super Mutant Ninja Rock and Roll friends. There are more and newer and better places to go, more than have been dreamed of in your philosophy, Horatio.
Hey, let's go all over the world.
Monday, September 13, 2010
The reason for the song is because I was recently in a car accident.
Oh, don't worry, It was nothing, a minor fender bender. Extraordinarily, I've now been rear-ended, I kid you not, ten times. In three different states. Heh, I must have a sign in the back of my car or something.
And, my ticker is all messed up. I *SO* did not lose seven pounds this week. The numbers are all over the place because the scale needs to be replaced. It's been faithful to me (despite my kicking it on more than one occasion) for over 2 1/2 years, so it's about to go to that great measurement paradise in the sky. The new scale will arrive in a few days, and I strongly suspect that my numbers are a good 20 pounds heavier than the ticker says -- this is because of how slow I've been running 5Ks and how my measurements are looking and my clothes are fitting.
My work life is semi-messed up in that I am beginning to really need more structure. Working for a startup is all well and good, and I enjoy the freedom but, at the same time, I also would love to get some plans nailed down, If you don't count this work, then I am rapidly approaching a year since I worked at the publishing company. This is a long time. I don't love long-term unemployment and, sad to say, I have already experienced it twice in my life. This is, essentially, time #3. With a startup, there is always the promise that somehow, someday, it will be funded and wonderful and off we'll go and our lives will change and all.
But ... that doesn't always happen and, in a continuingly poor economy, the likelihood is not as good. If nothing else, I need a day job, I am still waiting to hear about the most recent interviews so I am not totally out of the running but it is just so much more limbo and lemme tell ya, I really and truly despise limbo.
So. My car is disordered. My weight is disordered. My job is disordered. We are going on vacation in a few days and, while I love that idea, I know that the eating is going to be disordered. And that won't happen until we've gone through the Mass Innovation company appearance this Wednesday, which I am excited about, and want to go well, but I am tired of the ramp-up and kinda just want it done already.
Life is disordered.
But then again, it has always been so.
Have you ever had a perfect week, where everything went wonderfully? The dog didn't knock your sandwich off the table? The kids did their homework on time? Your spouse came home early, with flowers or a nutritious dinner so you wouldn't have to cook? Your boss gave you a raise (or, hell, while we're at it, a promotion)? Your car ran like a top? Your lawn was gorgeous? Your in-laws gave you the perfect gift? Your parents had a beautiful sharing day with you as you all gloried about the past? The world was living in peace and harmony? The lottery numbers came up for you? Yadda yadda yadda?
So, what do we do, when the dishes overflow the sink, the cat misses her box, the kids don't pick up their clothes despite you telling them for the umpteenth time, the news is depressing, the weather stinks, your favorites sports team loses, the toilet backs up and someone mentions termites and they're talking about your house?
Eating caused none of those things and it does no good for getting rid of them anyway. It doesn't prevent the wreckage and it doesn't clean it up. It hides it. It pushes the cracked bumper, the brown lawn, the child with the F on her report card and the yelling boss into the background, but only temporarily. And when they return, those things are worse. They're dirtier, louder, smellier, more insistent.
Denial is oh, so easy. So many of us have lived in that mansion for so long. But it's not a mansion. It's a car wreck. It's broken glass and shattered plastic and dented metal. Sitting there and eating is not going to get you out. You need to unlock the door and lift the handle.
Get out of denial. Stop pacifying your problems with food. You are far, far stronger than you think. Go out and meet your problems head on. And I bet you'll find that, much of the time, they're not as big as you though they were.
Sunday, September 05, 2010
This video log is the sequel to "Now playing in right field": www.sparkpeople.com/mypage_public_jo
Yeah, so I've slipped up. But you know what? I'm fixing it, and that's all that matters. Go Red Sox!
Thursday, September 02, 2010
This is the third birthday I have spent here on Spark. So here are three songs that have something to do with three -- trios, three in the name of the group, etc. Enjoy.
Yeah, I know the third one is really weird. But have you ever tried to grab a song from the Internet about the number three that wasn't by Britney Spears?
Anyway, I'm turning 48 today. 48 is the new 33 1/3 or so.
I'm still sick, so I don't feel as kick-bun awesome as I'd like. And, with Hurricane Earl arriving, er, tomorrow, we are going to just order in enough food to go for a couple of days. Probably Vietnamese, with some seriously hot soup, as Mr. J has the cold as well. But we are going to a Red Sox game in a few days so the real celebration will be in a few days.
But, hey, it's my birthday today! So it's time for a somewhat more low-key party than usual, but a party just the same.
Party on, Spark dudes and dudettes.
Get An Email Alert Each Time JESPAH Posts