Painting my $800 Scion with SPRAY PAINT! (Pt 1)

Domain Expired

 My domain name expired.  I didn't care about it too much. 

www.ccplanet.net

I checked on it yesterday, noticed it was gone, then used the blogger tool to buy a new domain.  

www.ccollins.org

That seems okay.

Clearly I have an eating problem. After work this fine Friday evening I wanted to spend time with my dog, because he has not been feeling so well. I came home and napped for a bit. Then I awoke and ate four hot dogs. I popped on the latest "Mindy Project" and realized that the three potatoes I bought could roast in the already pre-heated oven.  Roast they did for :60 minutes. While roasting I had a cocktail....Bourbon and coke with a twist of lime.  As there was a bit of coke left over, I had a second cocktail. By then the three bakers were finished and with relish, and butter and sour cream I devoured one, then two, then three. Thank G-d there isn't a pint of ice cream in the freezer or I'd probably have suck that down too.

The old horrible expression, I eat until it hurts, is far to close to my reality.

Overt Racism

Today I met a person who lives here on my new street. He said "I don't mean to sound racist, but I'm so glad you are a 'white gentleman' who moved in here, and not a Puerto Rican."

It is late, I really don't have much more to add to this blog post, the new neighbor's words to me will just have to stand on their own.

Homeowner

I bought a house in Lebanon Pennsylvania. This is my first time buying a house. It was a drawn out and aggravating process. Scary too. Sitting at the settlement table with two real estate agents, a lawyer, the owner, and the ghost of all the other entities that poked and prodded me over the preceding several months I seethed in an acidic hatred for them all. After that day, I own the house and I've not seen or spoken to any of them. Good. Must it be this way? My g-d what a process.

I moved in about two weeks ago. So far, I'm behaving as if I'm camping. More accurately I've moved so frequently over the last ten years (really all of my life)  I've learned to show up at work looking normal, and being present and productive, even though my living situation is in flux and difficult. It's a hard act, yet for me it is what I do. I wonder what options are opened up to me as I live without having the understanding that pretty soon I'm going to have to roll on out of here. I'm not sure. I'm hoping there is a security and space to explore new things, new rituals and routines.

Last weekend I bought a gardening implement at a box store, then drove home and used the tool for about an hour. Now after the fact I can see the results of my effort, right there in the back yard. Why make the effort? Qui bono? Here in this house I'm able to just observe if subjectively I feel good about the whole act. It is a luxury which I only can express during times of security and calm.

Am I now calm and secure? What will emanate from me in this place, what are the things that I'll choose? Will I use care in choosing things that do make me feel good. My inner monk now has a tangible cell to revel in purity and peace, but squinting into the future there is a vision of being unaware and lazy, my house becoming as much the outside world that I pass through, and not a place for calm. I'm afraid of all the hard work and care it is going to take to own a home that provides me a place of calm. One the one hand I'm proud to have managed to have stayed alive this long with all that I've been though, this house being a culmination of hard work and effort (and privilege and luck). On the other hand a big part of me has very actively avoiding this domesticity, and that part of me failed. Will this failed Berserker take it well? And just as importantly will my newly preeminent householder step up and be dependable.

Green Smoothie

I just dusted off my old red, white, and chrome colored Oster blender and made my first green smoothie of 2015.

• 2 cup filtered water
• 1 bunch Italian parsley (flat leaf parsley)

Blend the water and parsley on high for about a minute or two until it is mostly liquefied. Then turn down the blender speed to low and begin adding the fruit.

• 1 banana
• 1 orange
• 1 cup of pineapple

The fruit liquefies quickly, so as soon as the last chunk of fruit goes in the blender, it only needs a few seconds and it's done. It makes about 30 oz of smoothie. A really big amount for the thirsty, or perfect for two. Serve and drink immediately because it'll start to separate as it sits. If you need to store for a bit, give it 5 seconds of blending before serving.  It doesn't really keep more than one days, so only make what you are going to drink.

The pineapple is the X factor. after you cut and dice about 1/3 of the pineapple, the rest of it only lasts for about 3 days.  So, buy a pineapple and have green smoothies three days in a row and you're golden.

Confusion

Today I realized how confused I am. I made the link between the difficulty of facing and trying to figure out all of the really hard stuff, and the ease of just ignoring it by eating/drinking/interneting/avoiding.

I'd rather face the confusing hard things and take them on while coming clear and whole. Within my confusion is a "don't know what to do" "don't know why to do anything" "don't know where to go." It's paralyzing. I'd rather face them but I feel stuck.

I do know that being fit feels good. I know how to get fit. I don't know how to stay fit, but that is another subject. I'm confused and don't feel good.

I'm going to get fit. That I know, and it feels right.

Workout schedule for Nov 5 - 11

Monday - N/A
Tuesday - Morning Yoga, afternoon walk
Wednesday - N/A
Thursday - Morning Yoga, afternoon walk
Friday - Morning run
Saturday - Morning Yoga
Sunday - Yoga Class

Feeling it

I am really feeling it.

2011 B2B

I believe today is the 2012 B2B. Here is another pic of me and Stu just prior to last years version..

Ping

Rebecca and I got together and played Ping-Pong. She beat me rather handily. I loved it.

Commuting to Work by Bicycle

This morning's commute to work was seven minutes. The bike ride back home was ten. It's a wee bit o' downhill on the way to work.

Today

After work I'm having dinner with my girlfriend.

Christmas in Oakland, 2011

Courtesy of Studio Ogalthorpe

Flyin' The Yoga Studio Colors - in B&W

Courtesy of Studio Ogalthorpe

Sometimes History is Irresistible, A ccplanet Op/Ed

A 1937 breadline

Michael Ferry

I Am Normal

Sometime in the last week or so my weight-loss put my Body Mass Index number below 25, which is in the green "normal range" of that chart.

A buddy of mine and I started last July 4th with a friendly 10 pound weight-loss contest. I began that contest with a starting weight of 234 pounds. That 234 pound weight had me in the red "obese range." As I wrote in my previous post, October 13, 2010 marks the date I oozed out of the obese range and into the overweight range.

My technique is really varied and multifaceted. One website though has been a key contributor to my weight-loss, it is a database to calculate nutrition and calories of the foods I eat.

Entering my foods is not the alpha and omega of secrets to weight-loss. I found value in the discipline and non-judgement with which I am required to accurately track what I eat. By this I mean, one binger has easily been enough to emotionally derail my enthusiasm and resolve to change, but marrying myself to this daily food diary practice, when I eat unhealthily, there is a sort of baptism from accurately and thoroughly entering in all the damage. Whatever my binge of choice was, I went home and entered it and that daily act went a long way in helping me get up the next morning feeling safe and capable of continuing along my plan. It is the hard way, facing the music as quickly and openly as I can, and then move on. Just like the millions of studies that show people who jump on a scale and weigh themselves everyday lose more successfully. After the first couple of weeks or months entering my foods, what was left in the daily practice is just some nutritional data, maybe a tiny manageable bit of regret or shame, and then the new day begins. It all stems, I repeat, it all stems from opening up MyFitnessPal daily, then accurately and honestly entering in beer, ice dessert, mochaccino, second helping, third helps, container of this, carton of that. Done, I've faced my choice, noted it, and then it is a new day.

I give myself one brownie point and a single pat on the back for entering green smoothies, vegetables, lean proteins, nuts, whole grains. I give myself ten brownie points and long heartfelt appreciation when I sit down and note that I just polished off 3000 calories of crap and topped it off with a pint of something. The daily practice allows me to move on with some dignity after an undignified overindulgence.

I count July 4th and that little 10 pound weight-loss contest as the date things began. Another very important date is last August 16th, when I started entering my foods into http://www.myfitnesspal.com

When I started MyFitnessPal I weighed 216 pounds, and now I am 161 pounds, that works out to 1.5 pounds per week for that last 38 weeks. Losing 1.5 pounds a week is a reasonable goal to shoot for, and one pound a week is good too.

My doctor and I have discuss a goal weight, or a weight where I would shift to a maintenance routine. At the rate I'm going I hope I'll get there right at the beginning of summer.

It feels good to have made progress so far. From what I've read, people excitedly cheer at a weight-loss such as mine, deservedly so, but what is difficult, unglamorous, and more deserving of praise than the initial weight loss is being stable at the new goal weight after the excitement of dropping pounds is over. My plan is to politely golf clap when I hit my maintenance weight, and with a huge red X mark the date six months out. Having my plan work and reaching my goal happens when I get to the goal weight and stay there for six months. The six months of maintenance date is when I plan to celebrate my success. Right now is just enjoying the journey.

Hooray! I'm Overweight

Yes, you read that title right, I'm overweight and ecstatic. You see the Body Mass Index (BMI) scale that we all know of and loathe. The one we call "Crude," and avoid like a brisk :30 minute daily walk, is in fact a very crude measurement tool. That is okay. I don't take it as gospel, but I do accept that by being a crude tool I can look at it and assume what it tells me might be five or ten percent off. By crude, it doesn't mean that I should presume it is probably wrong, it means it may not be precise. So, read it, think about it, consider its weakness, but don't dismiss it as wrong.

That disclaimer said, I plugged 58 inches and 196.8 lbs into my handy BMI calculator this morning and lo and behold I am now a member of "Team Yellow," my body mass index is below 30. Sometime in the dying embers of the last millennium, as I was drearily plotting my newly degree'd, post-Cal Poly existence, at some undetermined black day, presumably over a bowl of ice cream a nearby bag of chips and a beer sidecar I surpassed the line into being clinically obese. There I've remained for over a decade. Obese.

Today, with precision, accuracy, clarity, and a detailed record, on this, the thirteenth day of October, just as Chilean miners arise from their hellish depths, I too, emerge out of the black muck of obesity. Boy, does it feel good.

I've called out my desire to be on "Team Green," what the BMI chart calls "normal." And as always I am aware that it is a crude measurement. My feelings are if BMI is off by 7.2459% and I am 40% above whatever my mythical ideal weight is, I've more important things to concern myself with than the precision of the BMI charts.

Did I mention I was pleased? I am.

Job Hunting or "What do you want to do?"

I never was a high school dance type of kid. I've found it difficult and unpalatable to stand up and demand what I want. People can freak me out. (I'm seeking help with that one). All this said, I gotta go out and shake my ass and land a job.

"What do you want to do?" There I said it for you dear reader. I'd like to work with nice people who don't freak me out. I'm smart, I can be passionate if something strikes me as important or meaningful, I love love love some people and would do anything for them, a lot of folks freak me out and I'm have a screaming urge to run.

Oh, and a livable wage would be nice.

Well, there I've said. Let the ass shaking begin.

Life To Date In Review (from a fitness perspective)

I spoke with my old pal Jeff yesterday. He is back living in Cleveland, Ohio after a couple of years working on a remote farm in Hawaii. He is about three weeks off the farm, and told me he's gained a few pounds due to not running around the farm all day. While farming he had really leaned out, and remarked that he hadn't been at the farm-weight since he was fourteen years old. That got me thinking.

At age eighteen my buddy Chris, his sister Liz, and I began a daily trek to a Nautilus Gym. I'd always halfheartedly participated in sports but this was my first foray into being fit and healthy. It worked pretty well. I leaned out and from age eighteen to thirty-five or so I was usually pretty fit. Some times very fit, some times not so much. My weight from age 18 -to- 35 fluctuated between 155 lbs. and 190 lbs. That is right in the Team Green zone up to the lower echelons of the overweight range.

This idea of Jeff reaching the same weight he had at fourteen had me thinking. Before my age eighteen fitness kick I'd always be sort of soft, I wasn't skinny nor was I obese, just soft. I was probably overweight most of my childhood, but I didn't have any data. It occurred to me that at age 14 I played organized kiddie football and toward the end of the season I remember bumping up against the weight limit. I vaguely recall it being 155 lbs. Sure enough the league and the team "The Ventura Packers Youth Football Team" are still up and running and the limits for my age division is 155 lbs. That's it.

I weighed 155 lbs. just after turning age fourteen and I weighed 155 lbs. at age twenty-eight after getting out of the Navy. In that interim I had grown a couple of inches ... well maybe one or two inches. Even though I never obsessed over weight or thought poorly of myself because of my size, I did feel kind of soft and chunky, and in reality I was an overweight kid.

I'm not beating up my inner fat kid here, as a matter of fact in a weird way it is uplifting and motivating, that as I become a member of Team Green, I too will be back to my age fourteen weight.