In the beginning it was a mish-mosh of entertaining anecdotes and advice based on personal experience. Some of the posts were old school assignments that I though worthy of publishing. As time went on though, it took a more authoritative tone, mostly in the area of health and fitness. There are many articles here that give advice on diet, exercise, and all around fitness.

Personal development is a big part of this blog as well. The advice given here will go a long way towards an improved and successful life. Although I am no expert in these subjects, I do know something, and am happy to impart the information. The issue is that I don’t always follow my own advice. Why not? It is good advice, and the information is sound. So what’s the problem?

As the expression goes, it’s easier said than done. I can talk about a healthy diet all day long, but the convenience of a fast food meal still pulls me in. I can detail how writing down your goals will do wonders for the possibility of achieving them, but when it comes to my own personal goals, I rarely write them down, much less read them nightly. Not that goals haven’t been accomplished, they have, and they’ve been detailed on this blog. But writing all my goals down would have made me even more productive. I know that, but didn’t do it. Why not?

Nobody is perfect. I would be the first one to admit that, but at the same time, there is a lingering question as to why I don’t take advantage of known tools that would bring me closer to what I want. That’s the frustrating thing. What I want is within arms reach. I know the path, I have the tools-but I don’t always use them. This is where I am right now, and I suspect there are many others in the same situation. The current focus of this blog is my pursuit of major goals (for me), and the less than smooth road I’m taking to get there. Fortunately, I know what I have to do. The challenge is to make that change, that lifestyle alteration, and embark on a new way to thinking, and subsequently a new way of living. Until then though, I will continue to wander the halls of the 12th House.

What happened? How could something that I had planned on for months not come to fruition? I was ready, I wanted it, but-I didn’t write anything down. As a result, my original goal started to morph into something else, and by the time I decided to revert back to my original goal, registration was closed and I had hung myself out to dry. I even ran 13.1 miles on my own as proof to myself of how ready I was. The whole mess could have been avoided if I had just written down my goals and stuck to it.

The fact is, I could have registered for that race months ago. The goals in my head were not clearly defined though. 1/2 marathon, full marathon-I couldn’t make up my mind, and as a result, I got exactly what I was thinking. I learned from my mistake though, and there are still a few 1/2 marathon opportunities this year. This time, I am writing it down. I have chosen which one and it is definitely a 1/2 marathon. I now have a few weeks to hone my training and make sure that I am once again physically ready.

Writing all this down and looking at it every morning when I wake, and every night before I sleep will guarantee that it will occur. The disappointment of earlier this month is excitement once again. My original goal is still intact. That 1/2 marathon will be this year, and when I do run it (and I will), not only will that goal be achieved, but it will also make my next goal that much more attainable. I will have demonstrated to my mind-to myself, that the process works, and it is effective.

When you write things down, even if you have no idea initially on how you will accomplish those goals, the mind starts to spin, and ideas will just start to come.

This will probably work out better anyway. The 1/2 marathon is the big event coming up. There will be no overshadowing from the full marathon crowd, as would have been the case in the race earlier this month. It’s hard to decide which is more exciting: Running a 1/2 marathon, or actually setting the goal and making it a reality. What it will do for my psyche-or anybody’s for that matter may be even more exciting.

The issue is not whether beef is healthy or not. How the cattle is raised, and what goes into the cattle is the real issue. Whatever a cow consumes or is injected with eventually ends up in the human food chain. Organic beef is a healthy choice because the cows are naturally grass fed and do not contain the drugs and hormones found in conventionally raised cattle.

Organic beef

There are generally two types of organically raised cows: Those that feed exclusively on grass, as nature intended, and those that spend their final months being grain fed, in an effort to fatten them up for market. Grass fed cows are lower in saturated fat and contain higher levels of omega-3 fatty acids. Over time, saturated fats can clog the arteries and contribute to heart disease. Omega-3’s are essential for brain function and may protect against heart disease, among its many benefits.

Every country, and even some individual localities have certain standards that must be adhered to in order for beef to be certified organic. Grass fed cows that are raised without using antibiotics, hormones, or are exclusively fed on grass are likely to classified as organic in most countries.

Quality V.S. quantity

Food safety standards vary from country to country though, and conventionally raised beef from foreign countries may contain levels of drugs and hormones that would be considered unacceptable by local standards. Organically raised free range cows may take several years before they are ready for market. A conventionally raised calf may go from 100 pounds to 1000 in a span of as little as 18 months. It almost goes without saying that much of this incredible weight gain is fat, with the assistance of growth hormones.

Organic Beef is the healthy choice

Organically raised beef is notably different from conventionally raised beef. There is a distinct difference in taste and texture. Organic beef may be a little tougher than its conventional counterpart due to the fact that there is more meat and less fat. Lean, high protein drug and hormone free beef is clearly a healthier choice, but raising cows organically is also more expensive. If you really are what you eat though, then the price is worth it in the long run, for the health of you and your family.

When I started running again back in April, my goal was to get back in shape and possibly run a half marathon sometime before the end of the year. As I progressed, the idea of a full marathon started to cross my mind. My running endurance was getting better by leaps and bounds, and all of a sudden a half marathon didn’t seem like it would be a big enough test for me.

No, it takes time and commitment. The smart thing for me is to run the half marathon as I originally planned and try for a full marathon next year. I know I can do a half. I can’t be sure about a full marathon. The last thing I want to start the race and have to quit somewhere along the route. I know I can do a full marathon ultimately, just not yet. Sure, maybe I can grind it out and do permanent damage in the process, but that would make the whole idea of getting back in shape pointless.

Write down your goals. I had my goals, but I forgot what they were when I started seeing results, because I didn’t write it down. It’s exciting to plan something and then start seeing results. Stay with the plan though. The marathon is coming for me. I will continue training, and if I’m not ready, then I’m not ready. That wasn’t the plan anyway. Those half marathons are coming up though. I am ready for those…

Running hills and trails in the area is enjoyable and beautiful, but it became very clear yesterday that the area is shared by more than just joggers. The usual trail by the lake starts up a dirt path and forks in two directions after about a mile. As I approached the fork a runner ahead of me dodged what appeared to be an unleashed dog. Many people bring their pets to the lake area, so that was no surprise, but this one was a fair size and it was loose. Getting closer, it became obvious that it was no dog. Long nose, scraggly fur-it was a coyote. It was sniffing around the weeds, probably looking for one of the many rabbits or squirrels in the area. It seemed disinterested in the jogger up ahead, and just as disinterested in me. Still, there was no telling if this animal was sick or what kind of temperament it really did have, so I wasn’t going to run by it. I took the left fork away from him. It was the right fork I wanted, but coyote ugly was blocking the way. Suddenly, he started trotting in my direction. It was a purposeful trot, not a slow walk. Not good.All I had with me was a small towel and a bottle of Powerade. Not enough to fight off a vicious coyote attack. I cut across a small field to avoid him. He continued on his merry way though, barely noticing me. I continued on my merry way, being very aware of him.

This encounter ended well, but it could very easily have been a problem. Pepper spray is cheap and can be easily carried by joggers. The next time I go to the lake, you can be sure I’ll have mine with me. Coyotes, dogs, and even some out of line humans can be on the loose, so, although you may never need it, having it handy will at least give you piece of mind. In the end it was my adventure of the day though. Nothing bad happened, so it actually ended up being kind of exciting to go face to face with a wild coyote. Not that I want to do that on a regular basis, but this time around was fine. Maybe I’ll see him around next week. I hope he understands that if he wants to get to know me better he’s going to end up with a face full of pepper. Don’t want to do that, but at the same time, I hear rabies shots are very painful. We can keep our respectful distances and share the area together. Now if I can just make that clear to him…

We have all seen the top runners and what their physiques look like; skinny as rails with very low body fat. Yes, these runners have incredible cardiovascular systems, but at the same time, they are built for running, and only running. Some of these runners may have very little upper body development at all. For the competitive runner, this may be the ideal body type. For the rest of us, total body fitness may serve us better, especially if running is not the only physical activity.

In between runs, lifting weights can keep the body toned and proportioned. For a runner, heavy weights may lead to bulkiness than can affect running performance, but lighter weights can strengthen the body overall, not to mention the aesthetic benefits derived. A nice circuit workout once or twice a week will keep the body well proportioned without having a negative effect on running performance.

Flexibility can be an issue for runners as well. The same gait mile after mile can lock leg muscles into a limited range of motion after a while. Periodic cycling, swimming, or power walking can alleviate this possibility, not to mention the benefits of working those muscles in a different way.

These tips can be applied to any physical activity. To do the same over and over can make you much better at that activity obviously, but it also limit your abilities in other areas. This site has several articles on cross-training and alternative exercises that can enhance your running, and at the same time contribute to whole body fitness.

This would be my second 10k in 2 months, a monumental achievement in and of itself, considering back problems almost cost me a 5k run just 3 months before. The run was nearly in line with Hal Higdon’s marathon training program, which was supposed to be a 7 mile run, but a 6.2 competitive run was close enough. The early morning fog made it relatively cool that day, which was perfect for running. The idea was to go sleeveless, but I packed a shirt with sleeves just in case, considering the weather, and the fact that it would be down by the ocean. Beach front temperatures would be at probably be a good 10 degrees cooler, and that turned out to be the case.

The race was taking place at Dockweiler State Beach, just a stones throw from LAX, so the jets were constantly taking off overhead. It was so foggy that they usually weren’t visible though. Every once in a while a jet tail or wing would peek out from the fog. Ambiance. This was the Keep L.A. Running annual run. The previous year had boasted celebrities and local politicians at the event, and this year was slated to be full of luminaries as well. Former Olympian Zola Budd was going to run in the 10k, along with one of the Spice Girls. The Laker Girls would be there to warm us up again, as they were a few months ago at the lake. This was kind of the big time for me now. Too bad that once again, I was attending alone. Well, serious running is relatively new to me now, so it will probably take a little time to insert myself into that community. Still, it was disappointing to go to something that was genuinely exciting for me without being able to share that excitement with anybody. The anger was welling and there really was no reason for it. There were plenty of people there, and most seemed pretty friendly. Most, but not all. There always seems to be a few cyclists that just have have to scream through the crowd on their bikes, as if they didn’t know that a few thousand runners would be there for a well publicized event. This event was no different. Obviously, most cyclists-and people in general are good folks, but there’s always a few in the crowd…

People were arriving late, so the event was going to be delayed as well. That annoyance was growing. It didn’t make sense. Even when things got underway, I was in no mood; I just wanted to run. As the lovely Laker Girls took the crowd through the warm ups, I just paced around, waiting for the race to begin. For the 10k runners, the race would be late. The 5k started first, and the 10k wouldn’t start until well after that race was underway. That left me to walk around and check out the event. A few car companies were there sporting next years models, along with a few food vendors. It seemed a little boring, but then again, I was bringing that on myself. It didn’t make sense. While the 5k was going on, I suddenly noticed that The Laker Girls were sitting at the VIP table-alone. It was as if they had been presented to me personally. This was my opportunity to have a conversation with some pretty girls-celebs if you will, and maybe get some pictures with them as well. That didn’t happen. My mood prevented me from having fun that was right in front of me. I could have been having a great time.

Finally it was time for the 10k. The course was up a hill on a road overlooking the ocean. Very nice. A flat, out and back course combined with ideal weather conditions was a golden opportunity to beat my last 10k time. The race commenced with a very loud speaker, and I was off.As in the last race, a nice easy pace would assure that at least I would finish. With earphones on, I made my way down the road. One thing that perked me up was that unlike the last race, there were photographers this time. I felt better after I started running. This was the sole reason for coming.

The run turned out be easier than the last one, probably because of the flat course, and after about mile 4, I realized that I still had plenty of energy and sped up for the last 2, hoping to get under an hour. It was too much to ask at that point, although it felt good galloping across the finish line rather than the usual stagger. The crowd lined up along the way made me feel like some kind of star, whether they were there for me or not. They got me anyway.

Physically it was a great race, but emotionally there were issues. It was a good time though. It could have been a great time. It seemed that something was bothering me, and it was affecting my mood. I knew for several days that no one would be attending the race with me. Answers would start coming later. For the time being though, it was another step forward towards that marathon goal.

There is nothing like having a cushion of accomplishments to fall back on. The idea of course, is to not have to fall back on anything, but if there are lean times regarding the accomplishment of your goals, at least you will be able to say something for yourself. My adult braces turned out to be less of a spectacle than I thought. Unless I’m flashing a big smile, they really aren’t noticeable. There was one other thing though, that was very noticeable, at least to me. A lazy eye that had bothered me for years was next on the agenda of resolutions that would finally be realized. It looked like surgery was the last option, and for me, it was the last option. This moment was years in the making. Creative visualization, eye exercises, patches-you name it, and I’d tried it. Not that any of those things couldn’t be effective; they just weren’t for me.

At the same time that the dental resolution was being fulfilled, I was setting up appointments with the eye doctor at the Davidorf Eye Group, with Dr. Gellerman, who turned out to be an excellent surgeon. Again, I was using the insurance from work that had set dormant for years. I figured what I had paid for the insurance over the years would more than compensate for whatever procedure, if necessary, would cost. As it turned out, surgery was the only option. Well, I shouldn’t say the only option; I could have left my eye the way it was. Comments about my eye were few and far between. Was it that big a deal? It was to me. At first I felt that the infinite power of the mind had failed me, and I had to skulk into the doctor’s office for a manual fix. Only later did I realize that, not only did the power of the mind not fail me, but it came through with flying colors. Have you ever heard of a book called Psychocybernetics by Maxwell Maltz? He was a plastic surgeon, and wrote about how people were transformed, literally overnight due to his skillful work. Not just in a physical way, but mentally as well. They were just different people, with heightened self-esteem, and a new outlook on life. The point of the book was that those folks could have accomplished their transformations without his help. I have no doubt that he is correct in that assertion, but at the same time, the clock was ticking, and I had a doctor right in front of me that could send my self-esteem through the roof in a matter of hours. That was the route I decided to take.

Just a few weeks after the braces went on, I was at the surgical center, ready to go under the knife. This would be my first (and hopefully last), surgery of any kind. As I sat in the waiting room that morning, my mind was still in failure mode. My all powerful mind had failed me, and this was the last resort. It was a formula for a bad patient. When they finally called me in, over an hour late, I was ready to let the staff have it.
“Wow, I was about to go have lunch,” I said sarcastically to the nurse.
“Oh, okay,” she said calmly. Sounds like she had seen patients like me before. She led me into a large room, with a central desk, and a series of curtains around the perimeter. I was led behind one of the curtains, which had a gurney, a blood pressure monitor, and a chair behind it. Since everyone that could have given me a ride that day had to work, my ride that day was mom. Thanks mom. I was to don a paper gown, along with matching paper socks.
“A little privacy here,” I said. Mom and the nurse stepped outside the curtain. I put on the paper duds and took my place on the gurney. They came back in, and the nurse took my blood pressure. 119/68. Was that good? I think it is, or was, considering what was about to occur. They were going to cut into my eye. I wasn’t through being a bad patient though. I complained that this was supposed to be a private procedure, and had them throw my mother out. The nurse was starting to get a little annoyed.
“I’m not your enemy,” she exclaimed, while she put the I.V. not so softly into my hand. She was right. I was just being a bad patient. A few minutes later, the anesthesiologist came in and offered me a sedative. I declined. This woman really looked like she enjoyed her work though. I didn’t want a shot from her.

After that, the staff left me alone for a while. I started to feel bad about throwing mom out, and when the nurse came back, I told her that mom could come back in-if she wanted. I tried to act like it made no difference to me, but in fact, I did want her to come back. She did, and we had a nice little talk-nothing heavy, just some pleasant conversation until they were ready to wheel me into surgery. Ron, the male nurse, was taking me to my destination. I bid farewell to mom, and Ron took out the curtain and down the hall. It was the most helpless feeling I had ever experienced. My life was in the hands of somebody else now, and I didn’t like it. It was very cold in there, and I was dressed in nothing but paper, and a complete stranger was wheeling my I.V. attached body down the hall. Along the way, Ron stopped at a blanket heater, some kind of machine that heated blankets. He pulled one out and put it over me. That helped a little. Soon after we arrived at the operating room. It was much larger than I had imagined, with a large central space, and large machines around the perimeter of the room. As I was wheeled in, the anesthesiologist came in.
“This is a sedative, it’ll help you relax,” she said, and injected something into the I.V. It felt cold as it made its way into my hand. The doctor was discussing where to place the gurney, and where everyone would be when-relax my ass, that was the knockout shot

The next thing I knew, somebody-I didn’t know who because I couldn’t see, was helping me get dressed. They were done, and I was out the door. The pain was quite severe, and I couldn’t open either eye. Whatever I did with one eye affected the other. For the moment, I was blind. I was helped into the car, and that was it. The surgery was complete most likely. There was the possibility of complications, but at that moment, the only complication was the pain. It was done though. Now it was time for recovery.

A few short months ago, it would have been crazy for me to think about running a marathon. My goal was just to get back in the game, just to revive my 5k years where I was in the best shape of my life. Well, that mission was accomplished, although I had to pay the piper with a bout of sciatica. It turns out the maybe it was just worth it.

Using marathon girl at work for inspiration, I just kept running until I worked my way up to a 10k. It was a great feeling, yet another goal, another milestone accomplished. All of a sudden, a marathon didn’t seem so crazy after all. Still, it was early in my quest, and the best I could logically hope for was a half-marathon in December-maybe.It wouldn’t hurt to check out what it would take to do the 26.2 dance though. Surfing around the web, I found a website by a guy named Hal Higdon. He looks like a marathon vet, but better yet, he apparently knows what he’s talking about. Perusing his site, I came upon an 18-week program to ready yourself for a marathon. I already had a 10k under my belt, and even if a marathon became eventually out of the question, I could still use his plan to train for a half-marathon later in the year. Why not give it a shot? The worse that could happen is that I would hit a wall at a certain point. It didn’t matter though. It was a training plan, and once a plan is in place, the only thing to do is execute.

The first few weeks were no problem. I had already covered those distances on my own. It was week four that I sailed into uncharted territory. The long run of the week was nine miles, and I had never covered that kind of distance, even in my most fit days. Hal has a lot of information on his site. Too bad I missed the part about hydration and electrolyte replacement. It was a tough run, and I barely made it. In fact, for the last few miles it was half running, half walking. My head was spinning, and my legs hurt badly. When I got home, I nearly passed out. Nine pounds lost in one afternoon. That’s fine, but in the kind of heat I was running in, electrolyte replacement is crucial. The human body is an electrical animal, and if those electrolytes are depleted, you start to short-circuit in a way. That’s what happened to me. I wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

The next week was a 10-miler, and this time I brought some Gatorade to replace those electrolytes. With marathon training being very new to me, mistakes abounded. Waiting until the heat of a summer afternoon to begin was yet another one from the week before. The 10 mile run would be early in the morning, when it was much cooler. Nobody wants to attend the school of hard knocks, but I felt that I had graduated the week before, and the 10-miler ended up being easier than the nine-mile debacle. Not that it was easy, but with the Gatorade and water, I was prepared.Yet another milestone. It was the first double digit conquest in my running history. The half-marathon was still on the agenda, but now the first inklings of the possibility of a full marathon started to enter my mind.

It was a bruising two weeks, running wise, but the next week was a fall back week where the long run was only seven miles. Yes, the day had arrived where seven miles was a fairly easy run. What was amazing was that it didn’t take that long to get to that point. Again, it was only April when the 5k was all I could handle. Just keep going. And keep going I did. The following week was another jump, this time 12 miles, which would be yet another milestone. From this point on, it would be milestones galore, because I had never covered these kinds of distances. Gatorade, water-ready to go. I just took it slow. It didn’t matter how long it took; the idea was to finish. There are running paths around the lake-yes, the same lake where this odyssey began. A couple of times around, and then a short back and forth along a dirt path, and that would be the 12 miles. I felt great. I went shirtless for the first five miles, just to get a little summertime color. I ended up with a lot of summertime color. Still enrolled in the school of hard knocks, apparently. It was all good at the time though. The lake, the squirrels, the rabbits, the beer swilling golfers on the course next to the lake, the kami-kaze cyclists sharing the path-and the pretty girls. There was plenty of all those things. So many lovely athletes. I had my MP3 and listened to tunes the first go-round, but the second time it was just me and the road, both dirt and paved. Sunburned, tired, and dehydrated. Those last two miles were tough. For whatever reason, the relief of stopping for a drink break was offset by having to start up again. My knees really hurt when I stopped, but after running a few minutes, the pain would subside. It was tough, and as the end of the run was in sight, I just told myself, just keep going. There was no quitting. This was doable. It was a great feeling to have conquered the 12-mile hurdle. My pedometer looked great as well. Over 24,000 steps, over 1300 calories burned. Yes, in one afternoon.

I’m nearly at the half-marathon level now, and no longer is a full marathon out of the question. The more milestones I reach, the more confidence I have. We’ll see about a full marathon this year, but as it stands now, it is no longer out of the question.

Although nobody ever said anything about it, whenever I looked at my crooked teeth in the mirror the idea of straight, pearly whites always crossed my mind. Every year the resolution was the same: fix those teeth no matter what. Many years passed, and just as many excuses went with those years. Not enough money, no insurance, money better spent elsewhere, too late in life-you name it, and the excuse had been used. This year would be different though. Whether it was an accumulation of determination over the years or something else is still being investigated, but this was the year that at least, the process would begin.

With the help of insurance from work, insurance that had sat dormant for years, little by little I made dental appointments and got the crowns, fillings, and anything else I needed to prepare my teeth for what would be mandatory if I truly wanted those straight, pearly whites: braces. Adult braces are no longer that unusual, however, some people wait longer than others. It didn’t matter. The process had started, and if gray hair and braces would be my look for the next few years, then so be it.

Before anything like braces could be considered, I had to see an orthodontist to find out if it were even possible. After all, not everyone is a candidate for braces. At the same time, I felt that anything less was unacceptable. I had started the process, and nothing was going to derail it. The doctor did throw a little roadblock in the way though. Three teeth needed to come out to make room for the straightening process. Pulling one tooth was bad enough, so three sounded very bad. One in the lower front, One of the canine teeth, which would be replaced with one of the other teeth, and one wisdom tooth, the last of the four. My regular dentist couldn’t do the job. I had to see a surgeon.

The stories I heard about what was about to happen were quite alarming. Severe pain, infection, dry socket nausea-you name it, and the supporters around me had all told me their horror stories regarding dental surgery. Well, this was my own story, and again-nothing was going to stop the process. I made the appointment with the surgeon, ready for anything. What was going to happen is they were going to give me the gas and I would wake up three teeth lighter. The day came, and I settled into the chair, blocking out the horror stories I had heard. This was my story. They put the I.V. in my arm, in after a few minutes, the nurse said, “Okay, we’re just going to give some oxygen here and-” That was it. The next words I heard were “Okay, we’re done!” That was it. No pain, and not even the concept of time passing. Just a mouthful of gauze and wheelchair ride to the door.

The recovery was nothing. Didn’t even need the Vicodin they prescribed. The surgery was about as pleasant as dental surgery could be. I was emboldened. Now it was time to take the next step and go back to the orthodontist for the next phase. Determination had morphed into excitement. Not only were my teeth going to look great, something just as exciting was happening: a goal was being achieved.