February 12, 2006

The Comforts Of Life

Morning Workout
1 hour (6.9 miles)
Heart Rate Zone: Aerobic (Zone 1)

Main Set: 1400 meters of drills (ugh)

Random Commments: I've got to admit, I expected my legs to be really sore from the Palm Springs ride yesterday. They weren't. Sure they were a bit tired, in fact, my whole body was pretty darn pooped, but nothing hurt. So that's nice. All in all, it was a nice run today and what with the sun being out and the temperature hovering in the 70s, the swim outside at the pool was gorgeous. Exceptin' of course for the sunbather who periodically jumped into our lane and piddled about in her quasi-breast stroke, crossing our path every lap. She nearly kicked me in the privates once by mistake. Please tell me, who in their right mind sunbathes at a lap pool?! Silly silly people.


For the most part, I've always been a fairly thin person. I mean, I have the body given to me by my father's side of the family, which ain't the most chiseled looking thing in the world. But I also have the high metabolism of my family so I burn food practically before it's digested. I mean, sometimes I need to output the food before I'm even done inputting it, if you know what I mean. So, I've been lucky - I've always been fairly thin. But thin or not, I love food. More importantly, I love great food, whether it be the local deli or a five star extravaganza. Great food makes me happy. And so wanting to stay alive as long as possible, I tend to balance a fairly healthy daily diet with stints of great food outings. (I'm going to digress for a moment now, so keep this great food/healthy diet concept in mind. It'll help with the conversation later on.)

When I was a kid, I used to express my emotions through music. When I was angry, I played the piano. When I was happy, I played the piano. When I was bored... yeah... piano. Soon music took over my life. Then I started running and exercise slowly became my emotional release. First it was music and exercise. But as I realized I could get more of a physical reaction from exercise, thanks to my good friends the endorphins, music started to take more and more of a back seat. Suddenly one day I woke up and realized that exercising was my key to balance and sanity. Angry? I ran. Sad? I ran. Happy? I biked. And then ran.

Well now here I am, continuing to grow older, as it turns out. And as I grow and mature, I really think I may be beginning to see yet another shift in my emotional release. I'm not completely sure yet, but I think it's happening. I still love exercise with a passion. Running is my religion. Triathlon is my drive. But more and more, food has become a substitute.

When I found myself angry as a younger chap, I'd go out for a run and call it a day. Running would always quell my appetite, so food was never even a factor. Hell, I've been known to fast for an entire day by mistake. I'd actually forget to eat. Things have changed though. My how things have changed. Now, when I'm sad or bored or angry or melancholy... well, I must chew. So I start eating. And eating. And then if things get a little worse, I must delve into my comfort food. And let me tell you, Bob, my comfort food isn't that healthy crap - there is no chicken soup and hot tea to comfort me. No, no, you silly rabbit - I'll have none of that. When I want comfort, I want it big. Large pizza type big. With barbeque chicken and jalapeno. And pastrami rueben type big. And slap an extra helping of thousand island dressing on that sandwich, thank you very much. Oh, and make sure those fries are very well done. You don't want to give me under-done fries.

It's Sunday night now and I'm tired. Very content, but tired. Tomorrow starts a new day and a new week. I'm excited to resume my focus on figuring out what I want to do, searching for a job and creating new opportunity. But, alas, I've realized that I have work to do for the company tomorrow. Meetings, conference calls and other assorted tasks to eat up my time. Just the thought of it makes me feel a wee bit more stressed. It makes me want to eat.

Fortunately, Cat is in the kitchen cooking dinner now. Some type of apricot pork chop dish. It smells so very good already. With each whiff I can feel my troubles disappear into the distance. I don't want to play piano. And I don't want to run.