Recently in Rant Category

I'd intended just to bump something to the front page but here's a fresh entry, why not? I've finally reached Week 9 of Couch to 5k, in a mere 12 weeks or so. I can now run over 30 minutes at a time, tho I still don't appear to be able to go over 2.5 miles. At least not that I've tried to.

I feel pretty awesome now, aside from a nerve in my lower back that makes running really, really painful sometimes. I'm down to 161 from a high of 184, I don't wheeze when I run anymore, or not much anyway. I have a pretty sweet running pouch with a squeeze bottle and stuff and I know that there are some things I just shouldn't eat prior to runs. Looking at you, bananas.

I also know that the whole point of this was to try to get rid of the type-2 diabetes that's been the bane of my existence for the past 10 years now. Mission not so accomplished there. I'm not taking insulin anymore, which is great for my tanning and my overall moods. My sugars still hover around 200 tho, which is not so great. I feel awesome but I know it's just a matter of time before something happens. Hopefully that something is the sudden return of my sugars to normal or close enough. Dream big, right?

Anyway, Day 2 should be tonight. Hopefully I'll be able to do a straight 30-minute run without interruptions or equipment malfunctions. We shall see.

I'm a bit conflicted whether I should post this or not but here goes. If you don't want to know things about me of a rather personal nature, stop reading. Seriously.

So a couple of weeks ago I started Couch to 5k. Seemed like a good idea at the time, really. Seems that my body doesn't really agree with that assessment. I made it to Week 2, Day 2 but during that second week my right shin started hurting really badly. Now my right ankle has joined into the fun. When I was running on it, it felt like there was dead space between the shin and ankle. I've been told by my friends, some websites some other folks to shut it down for a few days, ice it down, wrap it up and rest the sucker otherwise known as RICE.

What really sucks is I'm motivated right now and this is just the thing that would typically demotivate me in a hurry. As I sit here typing this, all I can think about is getting back out there and running. That would be my inner Obsessive/Compulsive talking and I'd like him to stay in the conversation before the bipolar manic comes out and trolls my brain to death.

Guess I should go see a doctor but I'm hesitant. Not big into drugs and I'm afraid if It's more serious than just a sprain that it will totally derail me. Guess I need to dig my YRG (Yoga for Regular Guys) book back out and get back on it.

Getting tired of writing about death this week, ladies and gentlemen. Earlier in the week it was my good friend and colleague Virginia Wilcox, who we just yesterday said goodbye to in a very moving ceremony. Can't really say I said goodbye, cause I'm still fighting tears today.

Now it's a friend from my childhood in Corey Haim.

Now I never knew Corey Haim, not in the personal sense anyway. I knew him like every kid my age did, from License to Drive and The Lost Boys and whatever other hijinks he and Corey Feldman could get into. Doesn't mean he wasn't a friend. Friends make you laugh, make you forget about how life can suck sometimes, even for a couple hours.

In that they were both very good friends indeed.

I feel badly for Corey Feldman today because even now those two were very close, brothers even. In a statement, he said he was struggling to find a way to tell his very young child that Uncle Corey was gone. It's not hard to tear me up right now, so imagine what that did.

Some may say that he was just another Hollywood guy who OD'ed and doesn't deserve our sympathy. In light of the advice we received yesterday, I choose to look on the positive and say that I'll miss the guy. I hope the Feldmans can find some comfort, and I hope it comes to me as well. I think we both could use some right about now.

This is probably the hardest thing I've ever tried to write. I've been trying to write this for more than a day now, and even though I knew this was coming, it's no easier. My friend Virginia died yesterday after a fight with Cancer. It started suddenly, was allegedly in remission, then bang...it's in her brain, game over.

I'd sad, I'm pissed, I want to punch stuff and I want a hug. Most of all, I want my fucking friend back. Here's some people you may have never heard of:

Karen Dark
Tom Grimball
Sharon Olthof
Cyber
Lovine Moss
Virginia Wilcox

They may not mean anything to you, but these were friends of mine. Friends of my family. Some were closer than that. And one was my cat. You can figure that one out.

These are all people who had a terrible disease and fought the fight. One of them, Lovine, survived. That's 1 out of 6 of my friends who were able to survive, after billions in research and some of the smartest minds on the planet working on it. That's some serious bullshit, my friends.

What makes this one so much worse is that Virginia has a teenaged daughter, the wonderful miss Eliza Wilcox. I've talked to her today and she's devastated, as well she should be. She's thankfully got grandparents to take care of her, and a giant extended family that we'll make damn sure she knows is around. But it's still not right to be that young and have both parents taken away at such an early age. If cancer had a physical form, I'd kick it in the nuts repeatedly until it was a bloody puddle.

Virginia meant a lot to a lot of people. She was a friend to some, a mentor to others. She was that crazy lady that wanted to make beautiful Hollywood actors her personal slave, and certain other men around her as well. This doesn't even scratch the surface of the person she was, the awesome, awesome person who will be missed by many. And dammit she is missed,

Rest in peace wherever you are. You're in everybody's hearts, and you always will be.