Dead Man Walking

...okay, not so much dead as really really tired. The only thing I despise more than trying to find a parking spot at the airport is trying to sleep the night before a morning flight. Not because of excitement or anticipation, but because for some reason my subconscious decides to jump into overdrive. Like last night...

I went to bed just after my 10PM phone call with Dawn, followed by channel surfing. I set the hotel alarm for 5:30 (have to be at the airport by 6:45), set the alarm on my Palm TX as a back-up (because nothing says good morning like Darth Vader's theme song), then tried to go to sleep. FYI, Mythbusters is not conducive to sleep. The good news is that I did fall asleep during whatever stupid movie I stumbled across. The bad news is that I woke up a few minutes later, thanks to the jet turbine engine cleaverly disguised as the room's heater. My brain decided that was a nap so it was sometime after 1AM before I really went to sleep again.

Some time during the 4.5 hours of sleep, I had a dream in which I reset my alarm to 5:45 AM, and it was uncharacteristically vivid too. It was also very disturbing, not just because I was actually dreaming of an extra 15 minutes of sleep, but because that would really throw off my schedule. Then the real alarm went off, and I stumbled around the room with all the grace of a cheesy sci-fi movie zombie (that's probably redundant, not like there are several classes of zombie movies).

That wonderful experience set the stage for my love affair with long lines and stupid people in said lines. Apparently, Thursday mornings are when everyone decides to fly to the US. The line for customs stretched back past the duty-free shop and almost out to the check-in terminals. I was in line for about 10 minutes when a lady and her three-year-old daughter (just guessing on the age) cut into the line ahead of me. Curse you, social filter!! Were it not for you I could've offered to show her where the line started, since she didn't have her dog or cane with her.

Another thing that really chaps my hide is a parent who has absolutely no grasp of basic behavioral psychology and who gets steamrolled by a three-year-old. Cut-in lady was apparently the author of the book "Stop, or I'll say 'Stop' Again!" Let me illustrate with an example...

After she let her husband and other daughter (probably 6) cut in with her (and why not really), 3yr dropped her candy on the floor. 6yr picked it up and gave it to her dad. 3yr proceeds to pitch a fit as though someone was trying to do dental work with pliers and a Dremel without the luxury of freezing. Mother of the year says, "Just give it to her, it can't be that dirty." And dad, who left his spine in his other purse, gives 3yr the candy. Not a clean one out of the bag he was holding, but the wet sticky one he quickly brushed off to make sure it didn't have a hairball or anything. ("Dallas, if you don't have less on, you have...?" -kudos to anyone who can name that movie reference)

And speaking of morons, here's a quick travel tip I got from impatient lady in front of me in the security line (not to be confused with line-cutting mother of the year). If you want things to move faster, simply mention to the security officers that your plane takes off in twenty minutes. That serves as a friendly reminder that you are important and, unlike everyone else in line, you have better places to be while at the same time letting them know it's really their fault you are going to miss your flight. Your security officers will doubtlessly appreciate these reminders, as they did this morning. It's at times like this when I really want to make sure they know I'm not with stupid. "I heard her bet a friend $20 you wouldn't find the little plastic bag she hid before she got in line, something about needing rubber gloves... I didn't quite catch it all, just thought you should know."

Yikes...

You know what isn't conducive to a fitness routine? Excessive business travel. Since Feb 1st, I have been in Calgary for almost 4 days, and Vancouver for 3 days, leaving me at home for 3 days. I started out so well too, my first week was going great then my fitness train derailed. I know I have to kick myself back on track, but I find myself wiped out by the time I get home.

Let me illustrate... yesterday my Lego order came in (the Republic Fighter Tank). I have been scouring the stores for it since before Christmas, it has been Out of Stock on the Lego website since probably the 2nd day it was listed, I found it on Bricklink and ordered it last week. Well, I was so tired I only got about 40% of it done before Dawn pointed out that falling asleep while building Lego may not be productive.

Most of the time, the hotels have a fitness room. The photo below is of the "exercise room" at the Best Western in Coquitlam, BC. Yah, two stairmasters and an exercise bike from the late-70s/mid-80s. The picture doesn't really do it justice... the stairs go down to the first level, and I'm standing at the doors to the 2nd level hallway. It's like the maintenance guy got them up to the landing and decided he didn't want to take them any further.

Adding to the ambiance is the mirrored wall just outside the photo on the right, and the mirrored ceiling. Nothing says motivation like seeing your reflection as you collapse on the stairmaster. All the while trying to ignore the guests as they try to ignore you on the way to their rooms (if you're on the 2nd floor, you don't have a choice but to walk past).

"Mommy, why is that man crying?"
"Shh, it's rude to point, Timmy."

I figured it would be best to spare everyone the awkward moment. Anyhow, I know I need to get back in gear and get going. It doesn't get easier the longer I wait. I just need to make sure my hotel in Edmonton next week (3 nights) has a real fitness room...

My progress so far...

After setting my goal to run the 10KM in June, we left town for two weeks which really does wonders for a fitness routine. Now that we're home again, I sat down and worked out a schedule that takes me up to June 27th (race day). I have it all on an Excel file (4 tabs, including cool little graphs to show my progress on my Saturday "weigh-ins", calculation cells to project my weekly targets...). This is one of the side-effects when a computer geek decides to get physically active. Some who read this will say I'm much more than a computer geek. There's Star Wars geek, Trek geek, Lego geek,...

For my aerobic training, I'm going to alternate running and walking days. I walked two miles tonight and tomorrow I'll see if I can still run a mile (that was back in July, so my expectations aren't really high right now).

For my strength training, I borrowed an idea from the Perfect Push-up workout where you do 3 or 4 sets with decreasing reps in a 2-minute period. For example, if your max reps at a specific weight was 10, you would do 8 reps, rest momentarily, then 6 reps, rest, 4 reps, rest, 2 reps. You end up doing 10 more reps than you normally would have done, which is really handy for things like push-ups (or leg presses on the Bowflex) when you can't easily add more weights or resistance. If your max is 20 reps, then you would do 14, 10, and 6 in two minutes. I'd like to say it has been more effective for me, but this is Day 2 and right now all I can say is "ouch". I've never been one to bulk up, it's just not in my genetic make-up. I wouldn't mind getting some tone back though.

One of my other efforts (not really a goal) is that I have been mostly carbonation-free for a month now. It probably shouldn't be so hard, but that could have sometihng to do with the fact my beverage of choice was Barq's Rootbeer (sweet, sweet nectar). So, to combat the withdrawal pains, I'm drinking more juice now. I know I should drink more water, but it gives me kidney pains (which I should probably have checked out someday). I'm trying to ease my way back on the water wagon, hoping it will hurt less. I choose to think of it as my body's way of saying I should drink something with actual flavor in it. The Slimfast & ice cream milkshakes help too, mostly because that's the only way I can swallow the horse pills someone is trying to pass off as multi-vitamins. I've seen my grandpa force-feed smaller pills to his dairy cows. Each morning I stare at the vitamin in my hand, wishing I had one of those long metal "thingies" they use to force the pill down the cow's throat.

One of my resolutions...

I'm still not exactly sure I'm doing this under my own influence, I'm more inclined to believe Jedi mind control.

This year, I will complete the Raymond 10KM Road Race. There... I said it. Now I'm accountable for it. Anyone who reads this can now poke and prod as to how I'm progressing in my training (which I'm sure will commence sometime in the near future).

Let's check to see if this is an effective goal...

1. Recorded. Yep. And if I do enough posts fast enough, I can bury this post before anyone can see it :)

2. Specific. As specific as I can get it right now. The race is usually around the July 1st celebrations. When I find the specific date, then I'll post it here.

3. Measurable. Yes. The results can be independently verified... I either cross the finish line or I don't.

4. Positive. Yes. I will finish.

5. Stretching. I should probably do a lot of stretching, don't want to pull anything. Seriously, running 6 miles will be the longest I've ever done before. I'm not starting off with a marathon or anything, so I think this is the right balance between stretching and attainable for me.

I'd love to hear from any of the runners out there who have tips on staying motivated. Sometimes I have a tendency not even to make it out of the starting gates before I reach for the remote and a comfy chair. I'll be following Becka's Blog fairly closely, so hopefully that'll keep me fairly on track. I keep saying that I want to choose to be healthy before I'm compelled to be healthy, but then I never really change anything. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need more ice cream...

New Year's Resolutions

If you're like most of the population, you looked at your resolutions from last year and probably set them again for this year's resolutions because you forgot about them. If you had them written down, you're already in the minority. I'm willing to bet that for about 95% of you, your resolutions aren't really goals but more of a wish list.

I don't mean to be a downer, but for your resolutions/goals to be effective, they need to pass a few criteria. Effective goals must be:

1. Recorded.
If you don't write them down, your goals are just wishes. Writing them down is part of the process which makes you feel accountable. After they're written down, make sure you post them in a conspicuous place so you'll be constantly reminded.

2. Specific
Fuzzy goals yield fuzzy results. Make your goal specific to you. You're only competing with yourself, not with anyone else. Make it clear what you want. Don't use words like "if" or "try", they are counter-productive. Don't use percent goals (eg. 'I will earn 10% more this year'). Figure it out and use a real number ('I will earn at least $50,000 this year').

3. Measurable
Your goal must be measurable by you and at least one other person. This means "I will be nicer to the kids" isn't a goal. What you feel may be nicer isn't necessarily measurable by others. Instead, you could say, "I will give each child __# of positive comments each day." Have a specific date by which you will accomplish your goal. An example of a measurable goal would be, "I will weigh 200lbs by 1 Mar 2009." When I step on the scales on Mar 1, it'll be very easy to determine whether or not I have reached my goal and it can be measured by anyone.

A quick note on sharing goals with others. If you are setting a "Give up" goal (eg. no more chocolate, Diet Coke, etc.), then share your goals with everyone. The more people who will stop and ask how you're doing, the better. If you are setting a "Go up" goal (eg. to be #1 in your department), share it only with those who can actually help you. If you walk around the office telling everyone you're going to be #1 by the end of the year, you might find an increasing amount of resistance.

4. Positive.
Your goals must be written in the positive. Your subconscious doesn't know how to deal with a negative. Let me demonstrate... For the next 60 seconds, do NOT think about blue bunnies. Keep track on a piece of paper. How many times did you think about blue bunnies before I told you not to? After? If your goal is to stop eating chocolate, your subconscious acts like airport security with a photo of the most-wanted terrorist. Everything that comes in gets evaluated against your image of chocolate. "That's not chocolate, that's not chocolate, that's not chocolate... hey, that picture of chocolate looks pretty good." And soon, all you can think of is chocolate. Rephrase your goal in a positive direction, like "I will eat ___ # servings of fruits & vegetables each day".

Setting positive goals also means they are in-line with your values. If you value honesty, then robbing a bank is not an effective goal for you.

5. Stretching
Your goals must cause you to stretch and grow to some degree. If it was easy, you'd already be doing it. The trick is to set your goals so they are challenging enough to be motivating, but not so hard as to be depressing.

Defending Christmas

I posted this on facebook last year and felt it was worth revisiting...

It’s strangely interesting to watch Christmas evolve into something nearly unrecognizable. Each year, we as a society seem to take one more step away from the true meaning towards the politically correct atheistic/ agnostic “holiday season”. It has grown to the point where people feel self-conscious about saying “Merry Christmas” to others for fear of offending them. How long will it be until our calendars say “Festive Holiday” on December 25? Many people already refer to it as ‘Xmas’ (which drives me nuts).

Christmas is first and foremost the celebration and remembrance of the birth of Jesus Christ. That’s where it starts and ends.

Personally, I really don’t care that December 25th was once a Roman holiday celebrating the winter solstice and the Festival of Saturnalia. It could’ve been the Buldavian festival of the Holy Hippopotamus for all I care. What is important to me is what it is now, not what it was nearly 1700 years ago (it became Christmas sometime before 336 AD). We get to take one day to stop and think about Christ and what He did for us.

Whether or not you believe in Christ as the Son of God, a prophet, or just a wise teacher is up to you. I don’t believe that celebrating Christmas, or even calling it Christmas, detracts from anyone else’s experience or imposes a set of beliefs on anyone. I don’t feel threatened or that that I am being pressured into changing my beliefs when someone celebrates Hanukka. I’m secure enough in my own faith that I can respect and admire the beliefs and traditions of others.

In remembering the birth of Christ, we also remember His life, teachings, and example. But most of all we remember the sacrifice He made on our behalf in Gethsemane and on the cross. We remember how death is no longer the end, the resurrection of Christ means that we too will live again.

"Wherefore, how great the importance to make these things known unto the inhabitants of the earth, that they may know that there is no flesh that can dwell in the presence of God, save it be through the merits, and mercy, and grace of the Holy Messiah, who layeth down his life according to the flesh, and taketh it again by the power of the Spirit, that he may bring to pass the resurrection of the dead, being the first that should rise." (2 Nephi 2:8)

Do you remember when Christmas used to bring a feeling of goodwill to others? When people would give service to others just because it was Christmas? People wonder why “goodwill to men” is on the decline as the focus of the season moves further away from Christ. . .

I Hate Flying...

That’s not really true. I actually enjoy flying. I love the window seats, watching the take-off and landing (which is saying something for someone who really doesn’t like amusement park rides). One of the most spectacular experiences I’ve ever seen was on the flight from Denver, CO to Calgary when I got to watch a lightning storm from above the clouds. How cool was that… about five to ten minutes of flight-time, watching as the clouds lit up as the lightning flashed in and between the clouds. I wish I could’ve caught it on film. But I digress…

What I really hate is the whole airport experience. Pulling into the long-term parking, getting the ticket, checking the display which claims to list the empty parking spots on each level. I have yet to figure out how they determine the number of available spaces when the whole process is automated. Here's how my morning went...

P2: 31. I don’t know what they were actually counting, but it sure wasn’t available parking spaces. 31 out-of-province plates, maybe. Oh well, it’s only 7:05 AM, boarding doesn’t start until 7:30, which still leaves me time to get through security and find the gate. I’ve already checked in on-line and claimed my seat. The flight doesn’t even leave until 8:00…

P3 is for short-term parking, can't stop there.

P4: 42. Again, I’d like to find out one day just what exactly those numbers really represent. I’m pretty sure there wasn’t room for 42 pair of roller skates anywhere on that level. 7:10 AM, getting a little tight on time, but still have room.

P5: 38. “Wo unto the liar, for he shall be thrust down to hell!” (2 Nephi 9:34). I could’ve found 38 frolicking unicorns on that level before finding even 1 parking spot. 7:15 AM, mild panic is starting to creep in slowly. I get my hopes up when I see what looks like a few parking spaces down at the end of the row. As I’m almost ready to turn in and park, I see the “Reserved” signs. “Memo to me: maim you after my meeting…”

P6: 88. I drove around for about three minutes wondering if Indiana Jones himself could find parking in this airport before finally finding a spot (I only had to drive against two directional arrows to get it). 7:20, I really need to move to get to security, never mind through it…

7:25, waiting in line at the security entrance as some woman in front of me is extolling the virtues of her little shih-tzu (who will be travelling with her, on her lap) and how adorable it is. Two thoughts are screaming through my mind, trying desperately to be set free:

1. There’s no such thing as an “adorable” shih-tzu, and

2. You’d better pray you’re not on my flight, or I’ll do everyone a favor and strangle that thing right now. Sure, they might frown on it on the outside, but inside they’d be giving me high-fives and putting me on their Christmas card list.

7:30, I’m now in the actual security line. For once in my life, I actually pick the faster of the two lines. Every once in a while, karma throws me a bone before hitting me with it. The woman in front of me this time felt compelled to wait until she got to the conveyor belt before starting to unlace her knee-high boots. On the plus side, she was short and her knees were fairly low to the ground to start with, meaning fewer laces to untie. On the down-side, she was wearing a shirt that didn’t fit when she was standing up. Let’s just say everyone behind her got a good look at the “tramp stamp” (I think that’s a more politically correct term than “porn star birthmark”) on her lower back. I hope she had a trust-worthy tattoo artist, or those were probably Japanese symbols meaning “advertise here”.

7:45, final boarding call for WestJet flight 150. Yup, that’s me… frantically trying to stuff my laptop back in the bag as soon as I can grab it off the belt without getting in trouble from the friendly security agents (they were even less inclined to humor this morning than normal). Karma must’ve figured I’d suffered enough already because my gate was the closest to security, or she was just toying with me. If I was flying AirCanada, I wouldn’t have been worried at all. In fact, I would’ve stopped for breakfast and still have been early. That’s why I prefer not to fly on airlines run by the devil himself. But I’m flying WestJet and can already picture the gate attendant running down the loading ramp, pounding on the locked door on my behalf, begging them to let me on.

I came around the corner to the departure gate and there are still four people in line ahead of me, so karma was lulling me into a sense of false security. The guy ahead of me decides to wait until the gets to the gate attendant to realize he doesn’t have his boarding pass out and ready. Just when did you think you were going to need it, Sparky?? I wanted to ask him if that was his unattended baggage over by the washrooms, but again my sense of social conformity won out. I have GOT to get that fixed one of these days...

If this were a flight heading South instead of North, I would gladly go through all this and more. I would expect it as some sort of rite of passage initiation to a warmer climate. It would be as though karma was exacting a toll for leaving the cold and snow behind and trading it for sunshine and warmth, and it would still be a bargain. But flying to Grande Prairie?? It’s only -6C in Calgary and expected to go back into the double-digit plus side while I’m gone. After all, the Grande Prairie airport isn’t exactly O’Hare. You have to walk from the plane to the terminal. Outside. In the cold, and snow, and wind. I mentioned cold, right? At least someone had been out earlier to shovel a path from the portable stairs all the way to the terminal entrance. The problem being that it had been long enough for the wind to drift snow over much of the path. Not to beat a dead horse (and then poke it repeatedly with a stick), but this would not be a problem in Ari-freakin-zona.

And then, to top it all off, somewhere between security and the Grande Prairie airport I managed to lose my watch. I know I had it in the Calgary airport because I was frantically checking the time every 30 seconds. I’m pretty sure karma stole it just to prove a point. Well played karma, well played…