If I could turn back time...

Georgeous isn't he....

I want a new left quad.

I haven't even tried to work out since the middle of last week, hoping against hope that my left quad will stop hurting and I will be able to hit with the pro I've hired to try to find my misplaced tennis game during my vacation. That said, I really must be some kind of masochist. I haven't swung a damn racket in two years and I'm going to step onto a court with a pro on Tuesday? How do you spell embarassment? OMG, the visions in my head of errant balls spraying from here to the moon and... well, best not to even think about serving. Worse, this pro apparently knows me from years ago when I was directing tennis tournaments (which is a story for another day). Not too much pressure.

GAME, SET, & MATCH!

Anyway, in a continuation of Friday night's mischief with respect to TriSaraTops, I will now tell you why I have posted a picture of Jean-Claude Van Damme on my blog:

Ready... I was once told that I looked like him at a tennis tournament in Chicago. PLEASE.

Now IF in my misspent youth, I wasn't so difficult to look at, I was assuredly no Jean-Claude Van Damme... and if I was.... damn, I should have gotten laid a whole lot more than I ever did.... Some years later, a lesbian that I bowled with, told me that I looked like Skip Sudduth from Third Watch. I don't see it but hey....

Henceforth, as the inspiration strikes, I may take Rae up and match other RBFers photos to their celebrity counterparts. This, of course, will not be an exact science.

FINALLY,

Depending on what happens with tennis, I am going to lay off the running for a few weeks until the Running Room 5k clinic starts. They do a 10x1 run/walk thing which is totally fine by me (shut up already those of you who think this is not running). With any luck, I'll be able to do the Pride and Rembembrance 5K which takes place the Saturday morning of Pride Weekend here in Toronto.

After that, and depending on how the dust settles with my job, I'm going to get myself a coach. Why not? I always had a tennis coach. With any luck, I'll be able to afford to work with a person who will be able to understand how I tick and what I'm up against emotionally/physically in fulfilling my dream to run a marathon.

Have a great week all!

Beth Huffstodt from the HBO show Huff....

This post will make no sense if you do not follow TriSaraTops blog.




Paget Brewster as Beth Huffstodt....
























but for the hairstyle ...... TriSaraTops

You be the judge....


With apologies to Sara and her family. Just a little friendly mischief from T.O. on a Friday night. (further apologies... the first and last time that one of Madge's videos will ever appear on this blog...)

Ever feel like you'r life's a DVD and somebody pushed fast forward?

Random CRAZINESS from the life of ScOtT:

*******I'm currently feeling like fucking Judy the Time Life operator: to wit, my work phone number inadvertently got published in an article that appeared in a story on the front page of the Toronto Star, Metro, local TV and radio, resulting in 400 + phone calls and e-mails that all have to be answered before I go on holidays....

*******Somehow, I've found myself on a campaign committee doing volunteer work for a man who is running for the federal Liberals (Democratish in US political terms) and who could very well be the next Prime Minister... Not sure why I got myself into this other than the fact that I really admire this guy's politics....

*******Not only did the firm I work for give us I-Pod bling for X-mas, today, they gave us a docking station freaking clock radio for administrative professionals day.... It's not that I not overwhelmed by the partners' generosity... it's just that I'd be happier if certain lawyers didn't treat me like something lower than a used condom.... most law firms give out travel bags with the firm logo... needless to say I'd already bought myself one at X-mas so mine has been donated as a door prize to a worthwhile charity. I feel good about that at least....

********My tennis trip to Hilton Head is cancelled. I simply couldn't count on my body cooperating in a way that would allow me to play enough tennis to make the trip worthwhile... so I'm going to hire a pro here and hit during my two weeks off .... that is, if I actually manage to get two weeks off....

*******Yesterday's crisis was all about the 14 Nanaimo Bars that I ate that somebody thoughtfully put out in our kitchen at work at about 10:00 a.m. yesterday morning....

*******This morning, it was all about the freaking bacon and home fries at the appreciation breakfast for us apparently not fat enough administrative professionals (in our firm, administrative professional includes everybody less than a partner)... I am quite literally sweating fat... They don't get that some of us see food and eat it.... I wonder if I could sue?

*******Naturally, I ate a really healthy dinner. Not. Cheeseburgers.

*******I was stuck in my office for more than 12 hours on Monday... then the second I fell into bed, dead tired, I started obsessing about literally everything that is life... I got about 2 hours of sleep...

*******My left quad killed during my workout this morning... I managed a whole 1.7 miles...

*******I have spent over $100 bucks (all unbillable) in taxis this week - too much of a princess to take the subway with all the other harried runners in the rat race...

*******I spent two hours trying to find the perfect song to put onto my blog that matched my mood... I don't know if I succeeded, but Axel Rose is hot... and it's been way too long since I've gotten any... whatever happened to Axel Rose?

*******This probably accounts, in part, for my bitchy mood...

It's 9:52 p.m. - if I had my priorities together, I would be long asleep in preparation for tomorrow's planned workout; instead, I sit her taking my frustration out on my keyboard with a generous glass of red wine (a pail actually)... I wonder if I should have another?

OK ENOUGH OF THAT...

Thanks to all with respect to the comments on my last post. Yes, I know it was dark but I am all about living the examined life. In my opinion, it is the only way. It is the very reason for my survival. Sometimes to my detriment, I am a very serious and intense guy.... if only I could direct it towards my running instead of other less healthy pursuits like thinking.... I try to take the edge off with sarcasm and self-deprecation, a strategy which I am starting to believe fails me....

I often think that I should do stand-up but I worry I'm not nearly thick skinned enough to survive the inevitable bombed jokes... did you hear the one about that guy Scott who's trying to get his act together to train for a marathon.... har har har....

With respect to the treadmill... I really really hope to start running outdoors next week during my holidays. I am thinking about joining a local 5k running group through the Running Room at the end of May which is where I first got into running. Recall though that it is running outdoors where my injury problems started (two years ago when I very nearly made it into a 10k race)

Reality check - it's not going to happen until I get my act together around food. Shit about Father's and life's craziness aside, it is not very likely that my body will take the stress of running until I've lost the 40ish lbs that I need to lose. Buth then, I'm back once more to the fact that I have just quit a hard core cigarette habit and need to be a little bit reasonable with respect to what I can do all at once. After all, Rome was not built in a day.

Gotta go....

Deep, deep into the heart of Scott - Caution!

WARNING: Even as I set out to write this post, I know that it is going to be grossly self-indulgent (even for me), as I suppose blogging is (at least on some level?) by definition. Thank you in advance if you choose to read it. For what it's worth, I hope, at least (fingers crossed here), to connect it to my training and my NEED to run.

Here goes....

I had a very troubled relationship with my Dad who passed away suddenly almost 9 years ago. (please, no need for consolation comments - I have grieved fully and well). He, like all of us, had his share of troubles during his lifetime; no doubt, the least of which was being a simple farmer trying to figure out how to raise a gay son. It couldn't have been easy in those days, long before shows like Will and Grace. Compared to today, it was the Dark Ages. He tried, and tried, and, then he tried some more. In the end, I realize now, he gave me the very best he had. While he might have failed in some respects, it certainly wasn't for lack of trying. The real truth is, that if I have any good qualities, I got them from him. Thanks Dad!

The saddest thing about my relationship with him though, is that I didn't (couldn't ?) really start to live my own life until after he died. In the years since his death, I have risen (some of which I have shared) to great heights from the depths of the lowest fucking despair. The present notwithstanding, you all simply have to believe me that at my gut core, I am a really, really content and mostly happy man (and earnest, and intense, and fearful, and self-doubting... blah... blah... blah... even my therapist gets bored). Go figure.

In his wisdom, he thought he was doing right by pushing me. He thought you made a boy into a man by being tough. He pushed and pushed.... and I tried and tried... though nothing ever seemed to ever be good enough for him. Tragically, I grew up believing that he didn't love me... that he was too hard on me. Even more tragically, I was WRONG. He did love me - he just couldn't show it.

And here's the point of this... for reasons that perhaps I can't really articulate or explain here... he used to call me a quitter. A QUITTER. On some level he was right - but without any understanding of the reasons. And how could he understand? How could he possibly understand how awful it was for me to be teased by my eighth grade gym teacher who teased me about my weight and who called me "his all-around friend". How could he possibly understand the cruelty of the other boys who used to call me fag? How could he possibly understand the feelings that I didn't even understand? To him, I was just a quitter who didn't want to take gym and who cried until I got out of it. But oh how I hated him every time he said it.

Do you see where this is going??

So... fast forward.... for my entire adult life, I have struggled with my weight (and drugs, and working too much and gambling and.... and.... pick an addiction, any addiction) and to be the athlete that I never was as a child. Though the story wass officially retired, I am going to tell it again here, my peewee hockey coach used to hit me with a stick for being off-side - trouble was, nobody ever explained to me what that meant.... you get the drift....

In my twenties though (after losing 100 lbs), I had it going pretty good with the aerobics thing. I could keep up with the best of em in step class doing pirouettes and the like over steps stacked three high... Jane freaking Fonda had nothing on me. I'm quite sure I was simply precious (I take some credit for starting the trend of men wearing spandex in Toronto).

In my thirties, I had the tennis thing going. Now, in my fourties, I'm trying to get it together to run a marathon.

So where is all this coming from? This morning on the treadmill, I was running along and, for the first time in a long time, I started to find the run... I started to really fly and I was without pain. But, seemingly, for no reason... other than perhaps boredom on the treadmill, I just wanted to quit... and here is where I find myself at the juncture of figuring myself out as an ageing wannabe runner. How prey tell will I ever last 4 ish hours (I want to write 3 ish but let's try to be somewhat realistic here) to complete a marathon if I can't keep my mind from fucking with me for an hour?

It totally has everything to do with my my thoughts of quitting my job. On some level, as hateful as my current environment is, there is a really good argument to be made for sticking it out.... but that's for another day.

I am somewhat lost for an appropriate finish to this post. I know perfectly well that all of this has something to do with my not believing that I can do it. Is it the voice of my Father calling me a quitter? Why can't I finally let go of these heavy emotional chains...

So... once again.... this is where I am today. This is who I am today - scouring the insides of my soul with an SOS pad.

Can you just imagine me the day I actually do finish MY marathon! And I will!

LAW CLERK FOR HIRE....

First off congrats to both Elizabeth, Jeff and all the other RBFers who ran the Boston Marathon yesterday. I have no idea whether or not I will ever run MY marathon but if I do, it will be inspired by your successes, through which I live vicariously.

I had a wonderful Easter weekend with my Sis Wendy and Brother-In-Law David at the lake near Picton, ON. Perahps too much wine, perhaps too much food but definately lots of love and support. I am truly blessed to have them in my life. I owe them both so much. I also got to visit briefly on Sunday with my Mom and my little Sis Carolyn and her Family.

Now with the Lord risen and the Angel of Death safely passed by, can we pray for the resurrection of Scott's sorry ass career?

I am utterly frustrated by the whole mess and worse, I'm driving myself crazy composing the perfect fuck you resignation letter in my head which I know that I absolutely cannot send. OMG I just so badly want to do a Norma Rae and tell the lot of them to KISS MY CONSIDERABLE ASS! Trust me, the performance would be Oscar worthy!

Or, I could do Fantine from Les Miserable who, just before she dies on stage, sings, "I had a dream that my life would be something other than this Hell I'm living..."


Anyway, enough of that nonsense. The miracle in all of this is that not only have I not smoked (23 weeks on Monday), I don't even remotely feel like I'm in danger of doing so. This is progress for me and I own it as such.

And more good news before signing off: I had the best workout on the treadmill last Fridy that I've had in a long time - 4 strong, pain free miles (though my back was grabby all day afterwards). And after taking the weekend off and suffering through a sleepless night last night, I did a respectable 3 mile workout this morning. 4 miles on the sched. for Wednesday and Thursday.

Like icing on the cake, I walked home from the office both yesterday and today which (coming home) is about 1.75 miles on a gradual uphill rise from Lake Ontario.

MY BEST WISHES TO ALL FOR BOSTON....

Even though it's almost a week away I want to send my very best wishes to Elizabeth, Jeff, and all the rest of you are are getting ready to run Boston on Monday. I'm leaving town on Friday for the Easter weekend so I it's unlikely that I will be able to post again beforehand.

Anyway.... I did 4 miles on the treadmill this morning (2 x 1mi; 1 x .5mi; with other .2-.3mi bits here and there mixed with some brisk walking) and once I was warmed up, I worked out virtually pain free. Although I am thrilled that the run was physically pain free and my lungs felt strong, I struggled on other levels until about the 3.5 mi mark by which point I was really starting to groove. However, I was worried about re-injury so I forced myself to stop.

The run was that much harder due to the fact that throughout my warmup, I was obsessing about my job which took a disastrous turn for the worst yesterday. Hence, I have finally decided that it is time to leave. All I can say is that I am thanking God for being able to run through this fucking mess of a situation; it is just so messsy and unseemly that without working out I would be rendered certifiable in no time...... ugh! It never ceases to amaze me the capacity that some people have to be cruel to others; to betray others; to tell outright lies without compunction; and to abuse their positions of power and authority.....

OH WELL - THEY WILL GET THEIRS. It's not for me to condemn them.

Trust me, I know. I have made one or two pretty horrific, career limiting mistakes during the course of my professional life.

Perhaps it's fitting that all of this is happening during Holy Week; I am trying to focus on what I know to be true - that I will emerge even stronger for this present strife and better off than I am now, if I can just believe in myself and take the high road out.

Anyway, I digress. The better news is that I felt no pain after my cool down and had no pain during the day.

Thanks to all for your input with respect to my injury(ies?). At the moment, I'm leading toward the notion that this particular injury is something I can run through (at least on the treadmill) at shorter distances while I push forward with my weight loss goals. I'll see how this squares with playing some tennis over the summer. I've decided thought, that for the time being, it is too much to manage the swimming as much as it looked like a starter just a few weeks ago. I can always pick it back up in the Fall if the running isn't happening.

For those celebrating Easter this weekend - I send you my blessings.

GO BENNY....

It's currently 7:27 p.m. here in Toronto - 4:27 p.m. in Tempe, Arizona. Nytro has just updated the blog - Benny is at the 5 mile point of the run with some cramping. I'm seriously trying to send him energy.....

Anyway, I need some input from all you elites and experienced runners out there. Many of you know that I've been struggling with nagging injury issues lately, however, I've discovered that when I get really warmed up that my right hip/groin/butt stops hurting? What I don't know is... how do I really know if I have the kind of injury that I should be trying to run/stretch through... or, if it's the kind of injury that I shouldn't be running on at all? Of course, I want the answer to be the former. I just don't know anymore. I kinda remember somebody telling me once that if only one leg hurts that it is probably not good pain?

If the answer is that I should run through it, then I can report that I had a really good treadmill workout both yesterday and this morning. I did 3.75 miles of mostly jogging/running. I can really feel the difference in my lung capacity since giving up smoking. If I should be running through it, then doing 5 km races through the summer is completely doable - then who knows maybe a marathon by the end of next year?

But I just feel like I have so far to go.... the weight to lose, my aging body, the core training to figure out, the miles to log. Then I start asking myself all over again: why Scott do you need to put yourself through it all? what exactly do you hope to gain?

Then I read all these inspirational blogs which connect me to something of which I am quite certain; that on some very very deep level that I will only fully and finally discover the true and complete essence of who I am through continued perseverence and training. In the end, the length of the race won't matter in the least.

Which bring me back once again to the Soundtrack from Rent which I was listening to this morning during my workout. A couple of minor characters in an AIDS support group sing the following exchange:

How do you feel today?

Best I've felt all year -

Then why choose fear?

Because fear's my life.

And there you have it folks. The unvarnished and ugly truth of Scott. I am afraid of it. Pathologically so. Even from this vantage point of living my guts out and being happier than I ever dreamt was possible - I am still afraid - no terrified - of success; afraid of coming out from behind this layer of fat that I have used my entire life as a shield to hide behind and to keep people at a distance.

I'm really not at all sure how all of this is coming together. It might just all seem like incoherent babbling. What I do know, is that I am in a place of change and growth and it is not always so clear what one thing has to do with another... self-esteem, fear, losing weight, training....

I think I'll leave it here for tonight. Have a great week all.

"Shut up and fucking run"

Fuck me! I woke up this morning with the intent of going for my planned swim (that I skipped on Sunday due to being too drunk to even consider being disorderly) however, when I looked out the window, I discovered that it had snowed. And, to make matters still worse, it was still totally dark as the result of the time change last weekend. So naturally I just sucked it up and went ahead with my plan. So not!

Instead, I went straight back to bed and got all sucky and started feeling sorry for myself. (So there!) When that got boring, I tried getting up once again hoping for a better result. Nope.

This time, I poured myself a cup of coffee, took one sip, looked out the window once more, and concluded that not only had it snowed overnight, but that it was too freakin cold to go swimming (You'd think I was planning to swim outdoors for Godsakes!). So, always the one to make lemonade out of fucking lemons.... I poured the coffee back into the pot and yet again allowed my considerable ass to take its comfort wrapped in my very warm down comforter atop my very comfy bed.

(laugh here folks.... remember, I share this crap because it forces me to take myself less seriously) Then, I did the whole thing once more still. This time after weighing myself and concluding that I was too fat to live much less run.

So do you get the point? Do you feel my misery? Finally, after a time, I got up and started to read blogs. At this point, it was getting too late to go to the Y so I decided that I would workout on the treadmill. This seemed like a suitable compromise and besides, I was anxious to test whether my pain free workout of yesterday would continue into today. So, coffee in hand, I sat at my computer to read a few blogs.

I swear, this is the first thing I read - courtesy of Duncan.... "Shut up and fucking run." Then I read about Benny leaving for his Ironman in Arizona this weekend; then about Elizabeth's taper leading up to Boston.... on and on I read. This is the power of the blog.

Do you think running into any of these folks in blog land is an accident. NOT!

So, over the past two days, I've done a respectable 7 miles of combined walking/running on my treadmill and while I can't say that I felt great this morning, I could have done more. I even had to quash several thoughts of taking my run outside to see if I could run a mile on land This is encouraging despite the fact that I was feeling some pain going down the stairs into the subway after work.

One of the best things about running for me is the clarity that I feel about my life. This morning's thoughts were mostly about just feeling grounded, accepting the limitations of my aging body (However, I have no such acceptance tonight as I write this post but whatever...), and validating for myself that any kind of running or physical workout is good. I spun wonderful thoughts about getting back onto the tennis court and cracking the wicked big serve that I possessed once upon a time (it was probably a tad bigger in my mind) ....

I spent some time thinking that I really had to relax off of the weight thing during this first year of not smoking. And, most importantly, I validated the extent to which (despite it all) I am conquering my historically low self-esteem; that bad days or even weekend misadventures don't equate to a person who is less than. It doesn't get better than this.

Non-sequitur - watch Huff on HBO. The Movie Network in Canada. It is the new Six Feet Under.

Purgatory

I made some stunningly bad choices this past weekend for which I am dearly paying the price. I am not going to write about it much here because frankly it doesn't deserve the space. And difficult as it is, I'm trying not to beat myself up too badly as there is no point in crying over spilled milk. All that I can do is to accept that I made some bad choices. The worst of it is that I am just so horribly disappointed with myself. If nothing else, I am just grateful that I didn't smoke given as I put myself into a very dangerous situation where I so could have (21 weeks today). I just hope that my current struggles and general madness have some purpose as yet unseen or understood.

Moving on....

There is some good news to be shared. Before my unplanned sojourn into the evil gay black night up here in Sodom (Toronto that is) I had an amazing walk/run on my treadmill which isn't per se all that newsworthy. However, what is truly amazing is that two days hence I don't feel the pain at all in my butt/thigh/groin??

Stay tuned.