I enjoy running. Not so much when some lunatic is chasing me while weilding a meat cleaver, but rather for fun and exercise. I'm not a fast runner, but I am able to maintain my mediocre pace over long distances. Consequently, my times in 10k+ races tend to be reasonable, usually around the middle of the pack. However, it seems that every time I try and train for a marathon, I end up getting injured. Here's the annoying part: not one of those injuries has been injury related.

Example #1: After completing my sixth half-marathon, I decided to start lengthening my biweekly long runs a la Jeff Galloway's method of training. Two days after completing my 18 mile run, my neck seized up. More specifically, a knot formed in the muscle tissue near the crest of my scapula, forming an acorn sized mass that was physically palpable. It felt like a rock. This painfully tightened all of the muscles along the left side of my head. I started eating aspiring like Chiclets just so I could sleep. The jouncing of my neck muscles while running made me want to scream, so I had to curtail my training for about 5 months. Scratch one race. Oh, I tried running the marathon on zero training for several months. Around the 20 mile mark, my leg muscles attempted to curl themselves into a fetal position. Argh.

Example #2: I was at the 15 mile mark when the spring in my car door sprung and the door slammed onto my shin. Hard. The resulting bone bruise and damage to the fascia took a long time to heal. Scratch race #2.

Now this year. I started my training far too late to be ready for the Richmond Marathon, but I was thinking about the Virginia Beach Marathon in the early spring. Along comes the most beautiful of baby girls into my life. I spent a lot of time on my knees next to her crib while trying to console her. Apparently, the soft tissue in my left knee is not really a fan of newborns. Now I have an appointment with an orthopedic guy near the end of this month to try and figure out how much damage there actually is. Guess what I've been unable to do for the last 7 weeks. And I can't use the exercise bike either due to the excessive pain. Pretty much all leg motions make me squeal like a pig, so swimming is out, too. So long, hard-earned fitness. Sigh. I'd feel sorry for myself, but then I look at my wife and two children and realize just how damn lucky I am. The knee is a just a nuisance. An excruciatingly painful nuisance one, though.

Here's hoping the ortho guy can figure out what's wrong and fix it. Scope, knife, whatever. I just want to get it done.

See, freedom from beal is easy. You just need to be self-absorbed and whiny; it looks like I hit the daily double with this post.

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Carnival of the Recipes #14 is up and running over at Boudicca's place.

Why am I always the last to publicize this? Besides being a freaking idiot, of course.

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I love Ray Bradbury. Not so much his science fiction, although The Illustrated Man and Farenheit 451 are a couple of my all-time favorites, but rather for his I-don't-give-a-damn-what-people-think approach to speaking. He says exactly what's on his mind, regardless of his audience. I used to enjoy seeing him trade bards with Bill "Dickhead" Mahrer on Politically Incorrect, back when it was funny. One night sexual harassment came up and Bradbury was asked his opinion. His reply went something like this:

Mahrer: "So Ray, what do you think about sexual harassment?"

Bradbury: "I think sexual harassment should be legal. I sexually harassed my wife for 2 years before she agreed to marry me."

It's tough to imagine the current touchy-feely PC age producing someone like him. Anyway, he's got an editorial at Opinion Journal. The subject? An expedition to Mars. Excerpt:

Put all these together, shove them in tomorrow's slot machine and pull the handle. If the totals come up with three swastikas, three hammer and sickles, or three papal crowns with honeybee insignia, the results may well be the same.
What we need now is a competition of hatreds and loves. The final reward on Mars might well be not spices or gold, but the squashing of egos and a promise of immortality.

In any event, time is running out. Congress, as usual, is imitating Sleeping Beauty. It is time to waken from the slumber.

That footprint on the moon is being filled with eternal dust and Mars still waits to have its canals filled with our dreams. Where, oh where, is the technological madman to wake us from our slumbers and provide us with the proper destiny?

Tomorrow morning, may that madman be born.

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Someone has created a beer that contains a huge jolt of caffeine. Big whoop. In one of my brewing books, a homebrewer experimented with bittering agents other than hops and was quite taken with the idea of using caffeine. His recipe included enough Vivarin tablets to make your heart beat like a jackrabbit's. Add that to a beer buzz and your evening will be off to a great start.

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Andrew keeps on peddling the same tripe. Excerpt:

Since there's no legal history of civil marriage being transportable to another state if that state opposes it as a matter of public policy, and since the 1996 Defense of Marriage Act enshrines that principle even more emphatically, and since even Massachusetts hasn't finally resolved its policy, real conservatives should wait and see.

Gee, you'd think that Sully would bother to actually look IN the Constitution when me makes statements such as this one. Hey Andrew, ever heard of the Full Faith and Credit clause? Or is that portion shaded on in your copy by the emanations and penumbras? I've heard of that before: it's called the "Shadow doctrine". I refer to it as the Bullshit doctrine, of course, but that's because I'm a maladjusted social misfit that actually believes what the Constitution says. I guess that that position is too nuanced for you.

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Apparently, Target and Best Buy have banned Salvation Army volunteers from the front of their stores this year. Hmm, what to say, what to say... wait minute, I know. Fuck them. Sorry if the profanity bothers you, but I'm getting a little incensed over the anti-Christian bigotry in this country, espcially around a Christian holiday and all. For the record, I believe that the ACLU headquarters are closed on Christmas. If they really believed their own bullshit, they'd remain open. Calling it "winter holiday" doesn't wash; everyone knows it's Christmas, even my atheist and agnostic friends.

Good news on one front though: it appears that BJ's Wholesale Clubs, of which I am a happy member, has opened its doors to the annual red kettle drive. And of course Wal-Mart welcomes the Salvation Army every year. Time to go visit those two retailers whilst I fart in the general direction Target. For the record, they're building a Target across the street from my neighborhood BJ's. Guess which side of the street I won't be stopping on?

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Michele has discovered a way to keep herself centered during the day. Excerpt:

I have acheived inner peace through writing about semen covered dinners, suicidal Santas and rock and roll.

Me? I use a different method to remain calm.

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Of Chris Matthews' credibility, that is. And that's just sad. See, I remember the early days of Softball Hardball, back when Matthews used to go after liberals and conservatives alike. Rush Limbaugh even allowed Matthews to be a guest host on his radio show; I'd be quite surprised if Rush asked Michael Moore to sit in the Attila the Hun chair for a day. Anyway, something inside of Chris snapped during the last 4 years of a Republican administration. I no longer watch Hardball to discover his positions on the issue; they're easy enough to find over at the Democratic Underground. And that's a pity. Thanks, Chris, for moving down to your new level of integrity. If you look up, you might see Dan Rather.

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UCLA Medical Research

A study conducted by UCLA's Department of Psychiatry has revealed that the kind of face a woman finds attractive on a man can differ depending on where she is in her menstrual cycle. For instance, if she is ovulating she is attracted to men with rugged and masculine features. However, if she is menstruating, or menopausal, she is more prone to be attracted to a man with scissors lodged in his temple and a bat jammed up his ass while he is on fire.

Further studies are expected.

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Well, that's odd. I checked my site stats this morning and noticed that I hit a new record for hits yesterday: 375. Small potatoes for most blogs, but a huge hit for me. Then I checked my referrer logs to see who was sending me all of the traffic. I checked the last 100 referrers and found that 67 of them were, umm, me. From this post. Since I don't link to myself in the post, I can't see how I'm generating my own traffic. My guess is that some of it is bleeding over from Risawn, who's been getting buried by the Puppy Blender. Anyway, I don't get it, but I do appreciate the jump in traffic. Now I'll wait and see how long it takes to drop back down to earlier levels.

Update: Welcome Instapundit readers! Stay and visit for a while, if you're so inclined. Especially if you like beer and beer gadgets. At least now I understand the spike in traffic.

Update #2: Turns out that I'm getting lots of links from Risawn, who's been getting swamped with her own Instalanche, which in turn sends people to me. Surprise! Anyway, I just wanted to thank Risawn for adding me to her blogroll. She required only minimal groveling, which was much appreciated. Being a married guy, I exceed my quota for begging every day before breakfast. However, forcing me to wash her car every day for the next 2 years seems a bit pricey.

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Attention all smokers! Put the following date on your calendars: November 18. That is the day when smokers struggling to kick the habit can prove to themselves that it IS possible to quit smoking. How? By abstaining for a single day. Once you've accomplished that, try another day. Repeat as necessary.

Good luck, everyone. I have confidence that you can do it. Remember: it's just one day. You can do anything for one day.

Update: this post will stay at the top of this blog until November 18 has passed.

Update: Just in case you needed any more reasons to quit. check out this article. Excerpt:

More than four million people die from smoking-related causes each year, making nicotine addition a leading cause of preventable mortality worldwide.

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Harvey posits an idea that I'd be glad to support. Excerpt:

There's a thought I've had for years, but rarely dare to speak publicly, lest I be branded some sort of hate-monger, but here it is:

If you get direct payments from the government, you don't get to vote.

Why? Because you've been bribed. There's a direct conflict of interest. If a judge had a direct financial stake in the outcome of a trial, he'd have to recuse himself. Why should voting be any different?

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The UN formed a committee to determine the cause of anti-Semitism. Conclusion? It's the fault of the Jews. Excerpt:

Recommentations:

. . . The leaders of Jewish communities should also act to distinguish defence of the State of Israel from the fight against anti-Semitism. . . .

Contextualising the memory of the Holocaust with that of other genocides and serious events in contemporary history in order to make sure that at the end of the day everyone can feel the Holocaust as their own tragedy, both Jews and non-Jews.

In other words, according to the U.N. experts' draft report, discrimination against individual Jews is bad, while "anti-Zionism"--the denial to the Jewish people of an equal right to self-determination--is not. Since it is the perception of unconditional Jewish support for Israel that leads people to attack a Jewish cemetery, and anti-Semitism was absent from the Muslim world prior to the Arab-Israeli conflict (the mufti of Jerusalem and his friend Hitler notwithstanding), the way to defeat anti-Semitism is for Jews to cut loose defense of the state of Israel. And by the way, anti-Semitism will diminish if only we stop emphasizing the unique horror of the Holocaust.

I cannot begin to express my contempt for this bloated, parasitic organization. Suffice it to say that I will throw a party when the UN becomes a historical footnote.

Update: In a related matter, Pat Buchanan has trouble coming to grips with reality. Taranto has the scoop:

Pat Buchanan weighs in with a defense of Yasser Arafat against Boston Globe columnist Jeff Jacoby:

If, as Jacoby writes, Arafat "inculcated the vilest culture of Jew-hatred since the Third Reich," why did Ehud Barak offer him 95 percent of the West Bank and a capital in Jerusalem? Why did "Bibi" Netanyahu give him Hebron?

Why did Shimon Peres and Yitzhak Rabin share a Nobel Prize with him? Why did Bill Clinton invite him to the White House more times than any other leader? Were they all enablers of terrorism?

No.

Actually, the answer is yes--but Buchanan fails to acknowledge it even after the fact.

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Then go to this site. Submit different commands; force the chicken to do your bidding. I tried "dance" and it worked. Sadly, the chicken depressed me by being a better dancer than me. I cheered up, though, when I remembered that EVERYONE is a better dancer than me.

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Apparently some of them are. A boy correctly spelled a 310 letter medieval word in front of his class. A nine year old boy, at that. Next on his agenda is a word containing more than 1,000 letters.

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Not surprisingly, it comes from San Francisco. Excerpt:

Berkeley tolerates its homeless people, and takes good care of their stuff when they abandon it in shopping carts.

Not only does the city pack carts and other belongings into a huge container in case folks want it back -- it also deep-freezes them for as long as 90 days
...
Critics say Berkeley's freezer program is an example of good intentions run amok. The city, which faces a $7.5 million deficit, should treat abandoned shopping carts as stolen property instead of worrying so much about the contents, they say.

"The amount of money wasted in this city is so outrageous it's ridiculous, '' said Jim Hultman, who learned of the cart freezing while fighting a $50,000- a-year program near his house that gave homeless people rented storage space.

I'll bet Jim sings a different tune when the townspeople show up at his front door wielding pitchforks and torches. The inhuman monster.

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So a guy opens a coffee shop with the name Bad Ass Coffee. As you might expect, some people are upset at the vulgarity. Those people have a point. However, they proceed to go off the deep end, thereby losing support from most rational people. Excerpt:

They aren't buying the explanation that the Bad Ass Coffee Co. chain takes its name from the lovable-looking beasts used to haul beans in Hawaii.

"We're not promoting any body part," Liotta, a Lindenhurst resident whose franchise will be the first in the Chicago area, said Tuesday. "It is about the donkeys," which are featured on the company's signs.

But Marion Rush, who is leading a petition drive against the shop, isn't swallowing that argument.

"I'd be upset if someone came up to my child and said `badass,'" Rush said. "I would be upset if my daughter used the word `badass'."

On Monday, the Antioch Village Board agreed, passing a resolution condemning the name and likening it to a sort of moral apocalypse.

Moral apocalypse? Right.

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Well, almost. Bill Whittle's book will be available to order via Paypal within a few days. Stocking stuffers for all your friends and relatives.

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Blackfive has the scoop. I'm reprinting the whole thing here. Somehow, I don't think Matt will mind.

Not only is BalboaNaval Hospital receiving our injured heroes but the medical facilities at Camp Pendleton are also at near No Vacancy populations. In the latter case it's not money that is needed for our wounded Marines at Pendleton but stuff.

Here's why and what they need: At the beginning of Operation Iraqi Freedom, some of the spouses of the deployed Marines put together hundreds of recovery baskets in anticipation of wounded Marines arriving at our military hospitals. The purpose behind these baskets was to provide the wounded with personal items to be used during their hospital stay and to help fill up their days while being confined in the hospitals. However, due to the higher than anticipated numbers of wounded, they are all but out of the supplies to outfit these baskets.

They are in need of the following items: nonperishable food (snacks and candy), DVDs, all sizes of batteries, phone cards, Game Boy games, books and magazines, Domino's Pizza gift certificates (they deliver on base), towels and wash cloths, and hygiene gear (razors and shaving cream).

These items can be sent to MSgt William Bonney, Office of the Division Inspector, 1st Marine Division Rein FMF, Bldg 1413 Room 200, Box 555380, Camp Pendleton, CA 92055-5380.

Our wounded Marines need our help. It's the least we can do in return.

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There's been a huge furor over the MNF football intro this week. To me, it's a tempest in a teapot. People complaining that "I was watching with my child!" need to say the following to themselves: "I have the remote; I can change the channel."

Now I hear that Tony Dungy, coach of the Indianapolis Colts, has weighed in with his disapproval, calling it "racially insensitive". I think he's just upset about someone showing up his players. After all, Nicolette Sheridan wrapped up TO pretty good, and that's a skill that his defense hasn't mastered yet.

Update: Best analysis yet over at the Kerry Spot.

Update: The Instamonster had this to say:

I saw the commercial for the first time in that broadcast, and I have to say that it was an absolute disgrace, and that it should not have been allowed to air. It didn't show nearly enough of Nicolette Sheridan to justify all the hoopla, and that's a tragedy because, despite her perhaps overdone plastic surgery, she's still hot.

Bah. Give me Terri Hatcher any day of the week. Any day that I don't happen to be married, of course.

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