Food, food, everywhere, but nothing to eat...

I can't eat. I can't eat normal food. Normal everyday food that normal people eat. I'm broken. I like food, don't get me wrong. A nice spicy pad Thai...a ginormous salad with all the veggie trimmings...tofu baked, fried, grilled, or flambeed...YUMMY! My tummy doesn't find it so yummy, though.

I basically pick at the same things day after day and can count them on all my fingers:

• oatmeal
• tofu
• broccoli
• black beans & rice
• fake eggs or egg whites
• pretzels
• apples
• oranges
• protein drinks & energy bars
• oh, and coffee, coffee, coffee

The crazy thing is, some days none of the approved foods on the list stay down. Other days, they are golden. What's the secret? What's the magic? Is there a pattern? Like string theory, it makes no sense to me.

Now this wouldn't be a huge problem except it's come to my attention that I need food as fuel. Why is this a novel concept? Food=fuel. No food=no energy. And it has reared its ugly head almost every day the past couple weeks in my workouts. My Coach has taken to nagging me to eat. He actually stops my lessons and makes me eat some kind of energy chews. I have been skating for months sans break during my skate. It's only a 50 minute lesson. I've run for 4 hours straight without stopping for energy chews. WTF? Why now? Here are some reasons that I've been given:

• you have more muscle now and muscle burns more energy, faster,
• if you go for a 50 minute run and then try to skate for an hour, that's two workouts, not a warm-up and a workout,
• you are burning calories so you need to replenish them before you burn them (does that even make sense???)
• maybe you just don't eat enough, period. (Huh.)

I do eat. Okay. I try to eat. Sometimes less successful than other times. I'm now told to eat SIX times a day. HOLY CRAPMOLY! I can't eat three times a day, let alone double that. "Six little meals." Is there even enough time in the day to do that?

I'm reading this great book called Marathoning for Mortals by John Bingham. He's a regular columnist in Runner's World and author of No Need for Speed (Coach wouldn't like that one.) He's known as, The Penguin, for his funny penguin-esque running gait. His motto is, "It's not that I had the courage to finish, but the courage to start." Anyhoo, here are some tips from his chapter on nutrition for long distance runners:

• Food is fuel. (Got it.)
• Eating well is part of your training program. (This one is new to me.)
• No diet is right for everyone. (Duh.)
• You need more than water to be well-hydrated. (Does coffee count? The Penguin would say yes. He's addicted to Starbucks, too.)
• Hydration is an everyday activity. (The more you drink the more you pee.)
• Too much water is as dangerous as too little. (This one is down right scary.)
• Use sports drinks. (Toughy. My Dr. told me not to drink them. Too much sugar in these drinks and I struggle with keeping my sugar at an even keel.)
• Get the fluids in you, not on you. (He says to just stop or walk when your running a race to drink. Funny. I have the same problem, only I don't spill it on me, I get it up my nose.)
• Eating after a hard workout speeds up recovery. (Also news to me. You're supposed to eat up to 400 calories within 30 minutes of finishing the hard workout.)
• Food is fuel that your body needs to perform. (Okay, this one must be important because he repeated it. I think I'm catching on.)

And The Penguin's "Absolute most important nutritional step to ensure success: practice." Practice eating before, during, and after long distance running to ensure you get it right. Oh. My. Gawd. That's a lot of eating. And likely in my case, vomiting!!!

Okay, see? How can I keep all this crap straight?

So after reading how important water and sports drinks are, and that I should be eating during any workout that's longer than an hour (WOW! REALLY???), he also says that you shouldn't eat a PowerBar/Gel and drink a sports drink. It's one or the other, but regardless of which one you choose, you need to flush them down with water.

It's really just too much. What happened to the good ole days when I went to a three hour softball practice, rode my bike to and from 6 miles, came home, ran around with the dogs, and ate a bowl of cereal????

This business will get out of control...

...it will get out of control and we'll be lucky to live through it.


This is my desk at work. WTF? How does it get this out of control? I don't even remember what's in those stacks o'crap. And I don't think I'm ever going to get to the bottom of it. In fact, I'm sure I won't. It just seems projects keep piling up and as I finish them more creep onto the piles...I have creeping piles. I wonder if an antibiotic would help. Maybe it's MRSA. Or bird flu. West Nile? Ugh...it just makes me want to vomit and then crawl into the fetal position and rock myself to sleep.

Try to find the following random articles of crap in my office:

1. Thank You notes
2. Bose speakers (okay, they are not crap, but they take up space on my desk)
3. Shredder...it quit working a year ago but I was told I couldn't throw it in the trash...
4. Small milk crates that my PC sits on
5. Souvie glass from Pucktoberfest hockey tourney
6. Picture of me & H
7. Binder full of my Board finance reports
8. Post-its, Post-its, and more Post-its reminding me of things I just must get done today
9. Hydration to stave off dehydration from the 110 degree heat in my office
10. Stack of requests that need my signature (this could apply to ANY of the stacks)

Trouble, that starts with T...and rhymes with B...

I got in big, fat, huge, trouble with my Coach this weekend. Thing is, I was mad at him but he turned it around and said he was really mad at me. What do you do with that? It's a good ploy. I'm going to use it in the future when I piss someone off. I'm just going to spat back, "Yeah, well, I'm pissed at you!" I tell you, if you are the first person pissed, you are going to be confused and speechless.

We had two of the worst refs in the history of hockey officiate our game on Saturday, and I use the word officiate only because that's the official word but says nothing for what these two bimbos did. One of them PLAYS in our league, in our division. Um, hello? Conflict of interest? She called 6 penalties on my team. We usually have between 0-3 penalties. The other idiot ref called NOTHING. Except the game winning goal by our opponent when our NET WAS OFF. In any other game, the goal would have been waived off. This other ref is an absolute beginner ref. She is timid, scared, and squeals when the puck comes near her. Yep, squeals like a piglet.

[My co-alt-cap't wrote an awesome letter to the Head Ref/Ref Scheduler about our concerns. His cookie-cutter reply, which we've received once before, was blah, blah, blah, not enough refs for women's games, blah, blah, blah, they are Level I USAHockey certified refs, blah, blah, blah, no ref, even himself, can call a perfect game. I swear to gawd, I could ring his scrawny neck.]

Coach thinks I let the refs get to me, which then rendered me useless. I say, yes, I was pissed on the bench and made some choice comments, BUT, when I jumped on the ice, my focus was on the puck, my linemates, and the opponent's goalie. Since he makes the rules, he won. Pulled goalie, 6 skaters, B is once again warming the bench.

Now, I don't expect favors. I take a ton of lessons and practice every day. He doesn't play favorites with my teammates (or me--even though he tells me I'm his fav, I think he says that to all the girls) who take lessons from him, clearly! But, I think my hard work and dedication have earned me a spot. (He picked a sub over me...) Not to mention, he keeps telling me I can skate and shoot. His reason for not playing me in the last 2 minutes: "You lost your mind."

Not until he told me that.

How can I convince my teammates that I'm the go-to player if my coach doesn't show them that he believes in me? He says he believes in me but he also says (on a weekly basis!) that he wants actions, not words. OKAY! ME, TOO! Actions. No excuses.

So he got pissed that I got pissed. What is that? I couldn't even watch the end of the game. I get benched and I thought I was skating hard all game. I was blinded with rage in the locker room and understandably did not want to discuss it in front of all my teammates, nor in the lobby in front of all the honeys and random people sitting there. Even at the bar, three shots and four double cocktails later, it was not finished. It took 24 hours to get us back straight...sort of.

Although, he did remind me in my lesson today, 37 hours post pissiness, that I made him really mad this weekend. He's normally a very calm, voice of reason. He's easy-going; doesn't seem like much would piss him off. Sometimes I just don't read people. "Wow, you're lucky. People surprise the shit out of me."

Thinking back on it, I may have a serious anger issue with bad refs. In my men's game on Sunday the refs actually told me to keep my mouth shut or they would toss me. Now, I didn't swear at them or yell. I got cross-checked in the chest and knocked on my ass by one of the jerky opponents. I got up, and tried to get the puck. Our goalie covered it. Whistle blew. I skated to the ref and asked how that was not a penalty. He said, "If it's a penalty, I'll call it and you keep your mouth shut the rest of the game or I'll toss you out." REALLY? SERIOUSLY?? I was very calm when I asked and I really did want to know. He was standing three feet from this non-penalty. Head down with shame: puck drops immediately following this repartee, and I slash the shit out of the back of the legs of the guy who cross-checked me. TWEET! Two minutes for me. My D partner suggested maybe I seek out anger management classes and my good friend Bug o' Death (also on my women's team) sat quietly with me on the bench, post 2 minutes penalty rest, and said, "B, please go to your happy place. This game is really important and we need to win it." Maybe I should seek out these classes before I'm ordered by a judge.

Stupid People

My good friend and college roommate, AnnaBanana, has a plan. When she becomes Dictator/Ruler of the World, she is going to create the Island for Stupid People and Smokers. Kind of like the Island of Misfit Toys in the great Christmas classic, Santa Claus Is Coming to Town.

The premise is simple, really. First and foremost, all smokers get shipped there. No questions asked. You smoke. You live on the Island. You are not allowed to come back to the mainlands until you are smoke-free. She would also ship all the stupid people there. I'm thinking this is going to have to be one ginormous island! Examples of stupid people - Go to the Island. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200:

• People who stay in the left lane by an on-ramp and don't let cars merge.
• Rude customer service people.
• People who say, "Irregardless."
• Managers who say, "Sorry, that's company policy."
• People who cut in front of the coffee line and act like they have no knowledge of this strange concept of "lining up".
• Cheaters. Even if they are pirates.
• Referees who are on a power trip or just plain ol' dumb asses!
• People who voted for the President even after his first four horrible years.
• People who don't vote.
• Doctors who think they know it all but clearly don't; then they wait to order tests until your disease has progressed to the incurable stage.
• People who expect something for nothing.
• People who are convinced their problem is the worst, most urgent, and most important.

Feel free to add your own to the list. The possibilities are endless for stupidity.

Mine, too!

Screw Graf and their little 705s, too!

So, once again, my Fool's Day Baby mo-jo works against me. (My daddy told my mama not to have me on April 1. He said I'd be cursed the rest of my life. It's about the only thing I agree on with him. Oh, that and his love for dogs. He treats them better than he treats people. I do the same.) I spoke/wrote too soon. Five weeks after ordering my custom Graf skates, the hockey shop calls me and tells me Graf can't make my skates. HUH? My arch is too high and the depth of my foot from the top of my ankle to the back of my heel is too great. HUH? THEY ARE CUSTOM!!!! CUSTOM, by definition, I believe means MAKE THEM TO FIT ANY FOOT. So the uppity Canadian Graf know-it-alls want to make me G70s instead of the 705s. Problem: G70s are plastic, not leather, cost $60 more (FOR PLASTIC INSTEAD OF LEATHER???), and aren't even off the production line so it will take at least a couple more months. So I'm supposed to pay $480 for plastic skates SIGHT-UNSEEN????????????????????????

After much deliberation with Coach and H, I decided to NOT get the Grafs. I'm going to buy TWO pairs of my current skates (they are on sale online for $150 now because they are 2007's model) and send them to some skate guru in MN to have the eyelets reinforced. That adds $90 per pair.

Maybe it was because I posted my joy for custom skates on Leap Day and that combined with my Fool's Day Bad Mojo led Karma to bite me in the ass. Or, my feet truly are a freakshow.

I think I have lost my mind.

J-ML: My Fav Av

MY FAVORITE AVALANCHE Player, although Super Joe and Little Kyle Cumiskey are a very close 2nd and 3rd....

John-Michael Liles #4

Position: Defenseman
Shoots: Left
Height: 5' 10"
Weight: 185
Born: Nov 25 '80 (Age 27)
Born in: Indianapolis, IN, United States
COL Season: 4th
NHL Season: 4th
Drafted: Colorado's 5th round choice, 159th overall, in 2000
Acquired:Colorado's eighth round selection (159th overall) in the 2000 Entry Draft

I aspire to play some day just like him. He's an offensive defenseman. He's quick. He's fast. He's powerful. He scored the game winner over the Canucks last night. WOO HOO!!! And his goal celebration is modest, yet excited. (More on those later...)

He is always ready to jump into any play. He mixes it up and doesn't take crap from anyone on the ice, even the big goons like Niedermeyer.

I seriously need to apply what I see him do to my games. Well, not the full-on checking part, but the speedy, offensive, quick-feet, quick shots business.

He was born in the good 'ole USA. He's really not Canadian. Hard to believe. Oh, and he's just plain fine to look at.

For a long time, and even now (sometimes), H mutters under his breath how J-ML is a terrible passer, has bad turnovers, and doesn't finish his checks. He knows this bugs me, yet he continues. I just sit back and enjoy the show. I have to say, though, I was having heart palpitations the few weeks leading up to the trade deadline. There were so many rumors that J-ML was on the block. (There's also a rumor Coach Q doesn't like Liles' play....rumors and mere speculation.) I just can't imagine going to a game and not seeing him flying down the ice. If the coaching staff were so unimpressed with My Boy's play, why did he see ice time in every PP last night, along with Sakic, Forsberg, Hejduk, and Stastny????? That is possibly one of my favorite lines EVER!

Secrets

I am addicted to Frank Warren's website http://www.postsecret.com/. People send in their secrets on postcards (yes, via snailmail) and he posts them on his website. Every Sunday they change and every week I see at least three that I could have sent in. I'm tempted. (I've got secrets I'm just itchin' to tell but not even to my best friends. It makes me feel almost evil and devious to keep the secrets and I like it. I thrive in it. But, I want to tell strangers for some reason.)

This week I just couldn't resist this one. It is SO true. Why do I want to be friends with my lame coworkers? Not all my coworkers and lame, but the majority, well....

And the culture at my employer is such that they believe, nay, impart their belief that we MUST have a best friend at work. Hey, I have best friends and they don't need to be people I work with. I like to keep my work life separate from my home life. Mainly because I live two lives, at least. Maybe more. I should change my name to Eve.

Frank has four books published of the postcards he's received. Go to B&N (or any big chain store, not the fabulous independents) and peruse them. Buy them from the independents...use the chains like a library but don't give them your $$$.

Skates, skates, skates

I love skating. Ice hockey skating, that is. I had some issues with skates when I first started (think: skates 4 sizes too big) but then I found a pair of Bauer Supreme 6000 (made in Canada) and they were like butta'. After four years, it was time to retire them. They had lost all their support in the ankles. Damn. So I went in November and got Bauer (now Nike crap made in China) Supreme 70 [picture on the right]. At first I LOVED them like my 6000. Then, one week into wearing them, I blew out the top left grommet on the right boot. Huh? $240 skates? (I wear junior sizes so I save $200 on them.) Bauer warrantied them and gave me another pair. Yep. One week later, same grommet. Same boot. Same problem. Bauer decided it was me, not their Chinese boot. They did "give" me another pair but told me under no uncertain terms that this was the last pair they'd "give" me. This one lasted two weeks. Shit. Damn. Fuck. (Can I say fuck on Blogspot?)

So the boys at PB, my fav hockey shop, convinced me to get custom Graf 705 skates [picture on the left]. All leather. Made in Canada. Craftmanship guaranteed for life. I did it. What did I have to lose, other than $420. On February 2, I spent almost an hour having my foot measured (very tickly) and now I wait. It could take up to 12 weeks. Sure hope that Chinese plastic holds up until then.

Quotes v.2

Coach: "B, you need to come across my face."

Me: "........"

Coach: "Squat and explode."

Me: "wow."

Coach: "Get in and get out. You need to come faster."

Me: "Really. Hmmmm..."