Before and After: Results in Pictures

I feel obligated to do this, since I've yammered on the past few posts about doing what it takes to lose weight. People want to see that these things I've talked about actually do work and that I'm not just making it up.

So, to that end, I went back into our picture archives (of which they are vast, what with having such a cute dog and all) to find a picture of me from near my high weight of 207 pounds. That proved difficult, since I don't usually go out of my way to be memorialized. The best I could do was this one, which is from last fall.  I was still north of 200, so it's good enough.

Ugh. That's a bit embarrassing. Misaki doesn't even want anything to do with being pictured next to her huge papa, turning her butt to the camera. Can't blame her, really.

So then I did all the things I've talked about in the past few blog posts. Worked out more. Tracked calories. Ate more balanced. Watched sodium intake. Tried to reduce stress and get more sleep. Changed my goal weight many times along the way, from an initial 185 down and down, 5-10 pounds at a time, until eventually, just a few weeks ago, I posted my daily weigh-in to my MyFitnessPal account and got this fancy schmancy little picture:

So yeah, it works. And now here's the big reveal:

I look different, yes? I sure feel different. Better. Happier. (Though Misaki still doesn't want to be in a pic with me, apparently.) This pic was taken about a month and a half ago on a hike up on Mt. Hood, so it was technically before the 50-pound goal was reached, but it's good enough for illustrative purposes. As I write this now I'm down 53 pounds to 154, something I honestly never thought was possible.

I would have loved to have a picture of me in the same clothes, but they are long gone. That's one of the things I never fathomed to think about: buying new clothes. I think only 3-4 things in my closet are the same as they were six months ago, and it's been expensive. I can't complain, really, because it's a good thing I need smaller clothes, but that doesn't make swallowing the credit card charges any easier.

All of my success has come because of the full support of my wife; I couldn't have done this without her help, her encouragement, and her love. Thank you, sweetheart! Also, Misaki helped too, with her six-mile-an-hour walking speed and her indignation to any stops not on her schedule. Thanks pups!

I should take this opportunity to apologize to someone, too. A few years back Wifey and I went and saw a nutritionist at a local clinic, hoping for some tips on eating better. We didn't really get any we hadn't already read, which was disappointing for the cost, but I think I probably put her off when I scoffed at the thought of my getting down to 165 (the medically approved weight for my five feet and eight inches). She was right, it was possible. So I'm sorry, wherever this woman is now.

Speaking of numbers, there are a few others to share. Yes, the big -53 is a huge one, but there are others as well:

BMI
30.7 --> 23.4

I may have mentioned this before, but I am not a fan of the Body Mass Index. While for most people it's a decent guideline, it's not a number that should be treated as any kind of holy grail; any health measurement that calls a professional athlete like Dwight Howard (have you seen this guy?!) obese is plain full of it. All that said, according to BMI I used to be obese for my height and now I'm smack in the middle of normal.

Metabolic Age
50 --> 20

I have a scale made by Tanita I use to weigh in every morning. It is somewhat fancy and allows you to store multiple profiles as well as gives you some other numbers, including metabolic age, bone density, muscle mass, fat percentage, and a couple others. Apparently it measures these things based on some kind of electric impulse sent through the body via the feet (you can't feel it). I have no idea how it works, really, or if it's super accurate, but according to my scale I've cut 30 years off my metabolic age. And really, I was at 50 before I reached 207 pounds, so I think perhaps it just tops out there. Is it true? Do I have the body of a 20-year-old? I don't know, but the number went down each week as I lost weight and clearly I'm healthier now, so presumably I will live longer maintaining this lifestyle.

Waist Measurement
36 --> 28

This number isn't from an explicit measurement; it came from the size of my jeans. When I began this process I had a pair of 34-waist jeans that were pretty tight and a pair of 36s that were a tiny bit loose. By the beginning of May I had lost enough weight my jeans were practically falling down and the belt I had was too big to do anything about it even on the tightest setting, so out of necessity I went shopping. To my utter disbelief I came home with two pairs of 31s. Seriously? I wore a 32 when I graduated from high school! As it turns out, buying jeans in May is a silly plan because I wear shorts - work doesn't care - almost all summer long. By the middle of August both pairs of jeans were falling off me - again - so it was time to go shopping again (and I'll just forget about the money I wasted on those jeans I really didn't get to enjoy). This time? I came home with two different brands, one a 28 and the other a 29. And you know what? These aren't tight either; in fact, they may be a tad loose. It's a shitty thing to bitch about, but the reality is when a guy has to find jeans smaller than a 28 it's kind of impossible. Great. It's not bad enough so few companies make jeans short enough for someone who is 5-8, but they also rarely make jeans smaller than a 28 waist. Again, a crappy thing to bitch about, I get that. But still.

Fat Percentage
26.0 --> 14.7

This is a pretty telling stat, too. At 207 pounds my scale told me my body fat percentage was 26.0. Math tells me that's 53.8 pounds of my body was fat. Yeah, that's a bit nauseating. At 154 pounds that total has dropped to 22.6 pounds. Here's what I don't get and why I don't put a ton of stock in that scale: I've lost 53 pounds, but only 60% of that has been fat. What was the rest of it?!

I am very close to being satisfied, close enough no newer picture will show the difference. It's been quite the journey, a long one, and now the real test begins: can I keep it off?

I believe I can and will. I've learned enough along the way that I know how to properly balance my food, exercise and lifestyle decisions to stay at a healthy weight. It's been a hell of a journey to this point and I hope it's one that never truly ends.

This is Kind of Weird...

When you see yourself in the mirror every day, even with seeing the numbers drop on the scale and the fit of your clothes changing, it's harder to see the scope of the change. And coworkers, who see me every day, don't see the scope. However, when you don't see someone for awhile and they appear 50 pounds lighter, sometimes you wonder, right?

I had a few people I know somewhat well but don't see all the time in the past couple months cautiously approach me and ask if I was okay. It was all I could do not to burst out laughing while I assured them that, yes, I am fine. Better than fine, actually.

And unexpectedly I've had a couple people tell me I am inspiring. What? Really? Me? I'm floored. I had one coworker - who I don't know very well at all and see only occasionally - be really interested in how I did it and said I was an inspiration to him. I shrugged it off with a smile like it was no big deal, but really? Well, thank you. And you're welcome?

I Used to Think...

Story time.

I'm a huge sports fan. I've watched professional and college baseball, basketball and football since I was in fourth grade, collected trading cards for years, and spent almost 9 years as a sportswriter covering the NBA as a second job. Part of that time included actually spending time in NBA locker rooms.

That's all to say I've spent a lot of time analyzing professional athletes.

As I crept past 190 I routinely became surprised whenever I would see a pro athlete weigh in at less than me, but be eight inches (or more) taller. That probably should have been a bigger warning sign than it was in retrospect. Now where I am there are very few pro athletes smaller than I am - and that's a good thing.

About 10 years ago, not long after Wifey and I started dating, I signed up for a boxing training class with her. She'd been doing it for awhile and I wanted to get in shape and it sounded interesting. That was a tough class, but it was fun. We stopped going after a while because...well, I'm not sure why. Anyway, it was mostly just technique and training - I never stepped in a ring - but part of that was teaming up in pairs with someone your size. One person would hold a punch pad while the other would practice throwing hooks and jabs with the proper footwork.

Sounds pretty straightforward, right? Well, this was also my intimate introduction into the differences between your average person (me) and someone who had trained seriously as an athlete.

Most of the class was women, with only a few men. Of those men, most were either older or still teens and there were only two of us in our early 20s, so by default we were matched up. I outweighed Thomas (I think it was Thomas) by about 10-15 pounds so you would think I'd be able to handle his punches.

Of course, he was 3-4 inches taller than me and had recently graduated from Portland State, where he played football (wide receiver, I think). Now, while sports fans may snicker at the small school football player, I have to say it doesn't matter where you went to school to play football because no doubt you spent a crapload of time in the gym and on the field, staying in shape.

There was not an ounce of fat on this guy's body. And to top it off, our boxing coach called him T-Bone. Why? I found out. You don't usually want to find out why the guy punching your gut is named T-Bone, because there is probably a good reason.

Dude could punch. Holy shit could T-Bone throw a hook.

You don't truly understand what it means to box until you have a guy taller than you, lighter than you, and in better shape than you throwing punches at you. Want some appreciation for what it takes to do that sport? Go try that out for a bit. I had a punch pad and he was wearing training gloves, but I was still so sore the next day I could barely move. I can't imagine what it would be like to actually be in the ring with the man and have him connect with my rib cage.

Again, that probably should have been a red flag to me, too, but it took me a while to really figure it out. It's funny how you can look back after (nearly) reaching a goal and, even over the course of 10 years, point to specific moments where you think you should have figured something out much earlier. This was one, but there were many others.

Maybe I should think about a boxing class again. That might be fun, now. Hmm...

The Secret to Success

You know how sometimes you make a change in one part of your life and it unexpectedly bleeds over into another part of your life when you are least expecting it? I'm there, right now.

For me the biggest key to finally getting into shape was the lesson of moderation. I (or anyone else) really can eat anything, as long as it's in moderation. Ice cream? Sure, but just have an ounce and a half. Biscuits and gravy at a restaurant? Sure - eat half and take the rest to go.

Apparently it's taken me almost 35 years to realize this was possible.

And it's funny, because I can look back over my life and see in many places where, perhaps, a little bit more moderation may have been helpful. From when I was little I've always been a tad obsessive about collecting things. I think it all started in 1987 with baseball cards. This was back before the internet, back when putting together a set of 792 Topps cards was a serious challenge, because eBay wasn't there to satisfy all your needs instantly. I spent quite a hours/days/weeks pouring over that first set and wondering how I was going to find that one missing piece (which just happened to be a Mark McGwire rookie card, the most expensive in the set to buy individually, of course).

That set - that card, actually - started me down a rabbit hole. A friend worshipped Eric Davis at the time, so turned me on to this idea of amassing a giant collection of cards of a single player. I decided Rickey Henderson was my favorite player and became focused on collecting all of his cards. Again, this was pre-internet days, so that mostly involved acquiring all Henderson cards my friends had.

This went on for a few years, and then as high school happened collecting cards fell by the way side (though I still have them all), in favor of hanging out with friends and music. Yep, I started collecting CDs. By the time I graduated from college I had a collection of about 350 CDs and counting (which, yes, are now in boxes taking up space and collecting dust in my attic). Don't ask me where I got the money to get all those, some of them used but most of them $14-$18 at places like Sam Goody and Camelot Music and Music Wherehouse (all of which I'm sure don't exist anymore).

Then I went through a phase of collecting books, which for me is pretty silly because I so very rarely go back and read a book a second time. Yep, most of those are in boxes in the attic, too.

After I moved on from the subsistence-living job to one where I actually had some spending money, and with the full power of the internet (and eBay) unleashed, I got back into card collecting for a few years. At the time the industry was hitting a peak of releases and as the bubble burst, eBay was heaven for a casual collector like me, who really just wanted all of the Chad Johnson cards in existence.

Now I still have all of these collections, and even more.

I want to read all of the books. My Kindle is filling up with these free downloads that look good I may never get to because I have an ongoing list from the library of newer, better stuff (maybe, maybe not) and I don't have enough time to read them all. That's in addition to all the physical books I have and the many that come out every week I keep adding to an ever-growing To Be Read pile.

I want to try all of the beers. That's not meant to sound alcoholic, there are just so many different flavors our there. I find one I like and buy a couple extra. Being in Portland, every time I go to the grocery store there is something new and different from one of the local breweries. Then there are the special releases aficionados look forward to every year, like Deschutes' Abyss or Pelican's Mother of All Storms - you have to pick up a few of those. And if I happen to go to a bottle shop, like Belmont Station or John's Marketplace, it's almost impossible to leave without 3-4 bottles of stuff from all over the country. I usually only drink one a week...so, um, yes, there is quite a collection growing.

I want to eat at all of the restaurants. I want to sample all of the ice creams. And all of the bakeries. If you have followed this blog or me on Twitter or on tumblr for any length of time you know how I feel about the local food. Portland is so full of great options, with more opening all the time, that not only can we not keep up but we almost never get back to places we loved. Just about the only place we get back to with any kind of regularity is The Sugar Cube, which only shows you how freakin' awesome it is and how you must go there all the time.

It's kind of funny - before the decision to change our diet we'd spend our weekends hitting up various spots for meals, desserts, tidbits, drinks...and then we'd bring everything home and eat it over the next couple days. We still do this, but the problem now is we don't eat it nearly as quickly. The freezer is full. The cupboards are full. The fridge is full. We still haven't reconciled our shopping habits with our new eating habits; that's something we still need to work on.

It's a long-term process, that's for sure.

Pulling this all round full circle, at one point there was a certain stress associated with this obsessiveness that, while not clinically debilitating, was a bit of a drain on focus and brain power. I truly believe the secret - if there really is one, which there must be because I keep getting asked about one - to my personal success with weight loss has been coming to terms with moderation, and then embracing it. I'm okay with having just a little bit of something.

The result is I'm pickier about what I do eat, which is worth my time. I'd rather wait than eat something I won't truly enjoy. I'll go without beer if I don't like my options somewhere, even if I want one. I used to never quit on a book, ever, but in the past year I've decided at least three weren't worth the fifth or sixth chance to improve. I have a finite amount of time and plenty of options, so why force myself to read a crappy book?

I apologize if that simple word - moderation - isn't the secret many want to hear. When I tell people in person they say, "Oh." And change the subject, like they are disappointed. It's not magic, unfortunately; it's just a mind set and it takes work, it takes focus. And really, for me, it almost feels like I had to give myself permission to be moderate in my choices. For a culture that values so highly the drive for perfection, accepting less can sometimes make one feel like their are a failure, or that they are accepting a life of mediocrity. That's not what's happening at all. At the risk of sounding like a motivational speaker, it's about striking a balance point.

Now, if I could just apply this idea of moderation to my writing: I don't have to write all of the words now, just an hour's worth of them. Or a half hour. Or ten minutes. If I could be okay with that, I might have had another book done now, rather than not started with just words and ideas bouncing around in my head.

It's a process!

After Three Months...

It's been a little over three months now since I began my quest to lose weight and get healthier. I'm down to 171 pounds, six away from my goal and 36 down from where I started at 207. Obviously I'm thrilled with how this has gone, even if I can get snarky on Twitter about having to buy new clothes or whatever. No one cares about that.

Apart from just feeling better, key numbers back up the fact that I am now healthier. Here's a highlight of numbers from when I initially had my blood test back in late February:

   Cholesterol - 163
   HDL (good cholesterol) - 32
   LDL (bad cholesterol) - 100
   Triglycerides - 156
   Cholesterol/HDL - 5.1
   Glucose - 91

For reference, here are the targets for me:

   Cholesterol - 125-200
   HDL (good cholesterol) - >= 40
   LDL (bad cholesterol) - <130
   Triglycerides - <150
   Cholesterol/HDL - <=4.5
   Glucose - 65-99

Most of these numbers were not that great and some were downright bad. Work needed to be done.

Two weeks ago I went in for a physical and had the same blood tests done, at that point down about 32 pounds from eating a balanced diet and getting proper exercise. Here were the results:

   Cholesterol - 123

   HDL (good cholesterol) - 34

   LDL (bad cholesterol) - 76

   Triglycerides - 64

   Cholesterol/HDL - 3.6

   Glucose - 99

The glucose level is higher than it probably should be in the second set because I didn't know I was having blood drawn that morning and no one told me I needed to skip breakfast, as they usually do. Oh well.

Across the board everything improved in three short months, all of these indicators that are generally accepted as indicators of physical health. The drop in some, especially the LDL and the triglycerides, in such a short time blew me away. I do still need to get the HDL up.

Well, Almost Everything

When I went for the first blood draw it was just with a lab and my blood was taken by a nurse - no doctor ever saw me or the results. The nurse did take my blood pressure and it was way too high, 158/89. That number, more than any of the others, is really what got me to take this weight loss thing seriously because doctors had told me before to lose some weight and get that number down.

So when I met the doctor two weeks ago, I fully expected to see that number to have dropped to normal ranges. Instead my BP was recorded at 152/84. Obviously this was a concern, since losing over 15% of my body weight had barely a negligible effect on it.

My doctor asked me about my family, asking to see if I had a history of high BP in the family. I don't, not that I'm aware of, and despite my inquiries I'm told my neither of my parents do. A couple grandparents have high BP, but they are also in their late eighties with other medical issues. I have no way of knowing if they had high BP in their 30s, like I apparently am. My doctor is convinced I must have this history, but there is no way of saying yes or no; it's definitely possible, maybe even likely, just not something I can say for sure.

Just like that I'm on BP meds. Lisinopril, the tiniest dose he can give. I now have to take one of these tiny little pills every day. And since they seem to be working I will probably be taking them for the rest of my life. I checked my BP on my home machine and recorded a 117/72. I went back to the doctor to have it checked after being on the pills for a week and they recorded a 117/64.

It's interesting to me that it seems - with multiple doctors I get this impression - that when a patient presents with high blood pressure and is overweight, they seem to discount it as long as the patient says they will lose weight, as if the assumption is the BP is high because they are fat. Probably 90% or more of the time this is true (I mean, that's what I expected was the cause, too) and they don't go to a prescription unless the patient is unwilling or unable to lose weight for whatever reason. Until I lost the weight and proved that wasn't the cause of the high BP, drugs were never mentioned.

Not good or bad, just interesting.

I didn't want to take the drugs at first. Part of it was just not wanting to have to rely on them for the rest of my life so I don't die for something completely out of my control (unlike the weight, which I can control), but there were other reasons too. I was a bit down, because it was depressing to me that the main impetus for my starting the losing weight ultimately wasn't related to the weight at all. It seems silly, but there was a moment when I thought it was a waste. Just a short one and Wifey helped set me straight, but it was there.

Another point was the discussion of side effects. The doctor told me a possible side effect of the drug was a dry cough, the kind that never goes away, and could just get worse and worse. He said if I couldn't sleep to stop taking the drug. Um, pretty sure I'd give it up well before then. Then the pharmacist didn't help either. She used words like "probably" with regards to the likelihood of the development of this cough, saying if I got one any time in the next 30 years this would be the cause, implying it could happen even if I stopped taking the drug.

Well that's fun.

In the end I have no side effects - so far - and it's working. It's annoying to have to take this pill every day at roughly the same time. I now have more sympathy for those who have to remember birth control pills.

A Little This and That

Here's another smorgasbord of learnings and observations from the past three months on the topic of health and weight loss.

• If you are going to eat crap - i.e., empty calories like sweets or alcohol - the earlier in the day the better. Beer for breakfast may not fit the meal, but my personal experience is there is more of a negative impact if those kinds of things are consumed later. Maybe it's because they can't be worked off before sleep? Not sure.
• Yoga is awesome. Just last week Wifey and I started doing yoga workouts from Jillian Michaels and Bob Harper with these DVDs we have. Both of us had the best weight loss week we've had in a long time, which is a rarity after three months of a program. (Note, these are workout yoga DVDs, meant for weight loss and sweating, not finding inner peace.) One theory Wifey has about this is because the workouts include stretching phases, something we didn't do before. We both found that when we were sore - muscles full of lactic acid - we didn't lose. With the yoga stretching is included so despite an intense workout the soreness is minimal.
• Eat your last food three hours or more before bed. We are bad about this, but the results are obvious when we hit the mark.
• It's not necessary to remove items from your diet. Well, anything processed should go as much as possible, but I still have a beer once a week, still eat cupcakes every so often, still eat pork, go out to restaurants, visit bakeries...I didn't take anything out. The key is to be aware of what the impact every item is to your daily calories and adhere to that goal. Theoretically you can lose weight on a diet of beer and chocolate chip cookies if you limit the intake to something like 1800 calories a day or less. You'll feel like crap and you may die, but you would lose weight. Hmm...maybe I can write a book extolling the virtues of that diet. It would be entertaining and just as helpful as many of the others.
• A lot of people have asked me what I have done to lose weight. That's how it works. When someone finds success at something, others want tips. I tell them, I have no secrets. All I did was choose a calorie goal, track my food intake with MyFitnessPal on my phone, try and get a little more sleep, and work out 4-6 days a week for at least 45 minutes. It's not rocket science, but it is work. You know what? Most people don't want to hear that. They want to hear about the magic, that I eliminated a certain food or I found a magic workout. Unfortunately, it just doesn't work that way. My way was not sexy (well, I suppose it depends on how you look at it), but it is effective. I have had more than one person just shake their head when I tell them that's all I did...and then they comment that's a lot of work. It's not work; it's a matter of priorities. Mine changed.
• I admit, I want to help. I want to tell people what they are doing wrong and how they can be better. (Isn't that what happens when you lose weight? How many Biggest Loser contestants have we seen turn into trainers?) I won't become a trainer, but I can offer thoughts and suggestions, whether that be to family or friends (or, I suppose, here it's practically to strangers). I'm cautious though, because I don't want to be a jerk about it. I've read and been told that unless people want to make the change, to make the commitment, then it's really none of my business. That's 100% true. Ask me for suggestions or a specific question and I'll offer up some thoughts, but I'll do my damnedest not to offer it unsolicited. I don't need to be that guy.
• In my mid-thirties I now feel like I'm in the best shape of my life. I have ribs! And veins! This is a good thing, but also mildly depressing. Maybe if I had this focus and work ethic on the subject 20 years ago I'd be a millionaire professional athlete. Nah, probably not - my depth perception sucks.
• That saying of "Eat like a king for breakfast, a prince for lunch, and a pauper for dinner"? It's true. Follow that guideline and you'll go far. Also follow the one about everything in moderation, but disregard the addendum of "including moderation." Don't moderate that.
• As I get closer and closer to my goal I've spent some time thinking about how the switch from weight loss to weight maintenance will look. It's daunting, because I think I need to still track my calories in the same way. My intake may go up a tiny bit, the exercise down a bit, but I don't think it's a good idea to stop tracking the food. I can't look at food and know how much it weighs and the caloric value yet, especially at a restaurant.
• I don't believe in a "cheat day" or "cheat meal." All that does is set you up for failure. If you instead practice moderation and aren't denying your taste buds things it may really want (hey, it IS possible to eat just one Oreo...) the cheat meals are unnecessary. I truly believe this concept, combined with diets that are extremely restrictive, are the main reason people lose weight and than gain it right back. These make maintenance almost impossible.
• Sauces and dressings will ruin you - be careful about the calories (and sodium!) in them, even in homemade ones.
• Cooking veggies brings out a lot of flavor. We've done a ton of roasting, adding just a dash of olive oil, salt and pepper to things like zucchini, broccoli, cauliflower, asparagus...really anything. Making stir fry with veggies, a protein and a little sauce over rice can be very, very low calorie and filling (think meals of 250 calories or less!).
• You don't have to start with a badass workout. Take a walk. Walking for half an hour or something when you are sticking to a calorie goal WILL lead to weight loss. If you own a dog this should be easy - Misaki says dogs need the same walking! (On leash, please, always on leash...) Fresh air and sunshine help.
• Buy scales. Weigh yourself daily and record it. Weigh your food as it goes on your plate. You will not lose weight every day. There will be days you gain. Overall, though, you will see the downward trend on a graph. Trust the process, even when you don't.
• Set small goals. Five pounds, ten pounds. Set rewards for reaching those goals, but don't make them food. (Or do, but it still has to fit in your calories...)
• Don't drink your calories - it's a waste and you'll end up hungry, so you will eat more. If you do drink calories, make sure they have some kind of value, like milk or 100% juice. Still, minimize it.
• Alcohol doesn't have much redeeming value, research into the benefits of red wine aside, when you are losing weight. If you want a beer, fine, just remember the number of calories is directly tied to the alcohol percentage. Otherwise it's just flavored water. Most of the beer I like is 8% or greater - Mother of All Storms is 12%, I think, and Bourbon County Stout is almost 14% - but that's a crapload of calories. Try for ones in the 4-5% range if you want one. (Suggestions: Session (by Full Sail) black, Bitter American by 21st Amendment....there are tons of others but I usually make the choice to allocate calories to the higher % beers. Another option is to drink half a bottle and save the rest for the next day.)
• Snacks are a good thing. Fourth meal, as Taco Bell calls it, is a positive - as long as it's not at Taco Bell. As with any of the other things, plan for it. Know an ounce of peanuts is 170 calories and plan the rest of the day accordingly. 
• Change up the workout routine every so often. We started with just cardio, then we went to a circuit training routine with weights for a month, and now are in the middle of a yoga phase. Keeping it fresh not only keeps you interested and excited, but it challenges the muscles in different ways and helps work the total body.
• Make sure you've got at least one person on your side for this journey whether it be a friend, family member, or even a stranger to help you and encourage you along the way (especially on the days you don't feel like working out or you want to give up). It seems like most people (whether it's on purpose or not) discourage your efforts. What do I mean by that? Well, when you tell them you aren't done yet, they say things like, "Oh, you don't need to lose anymore." The reality may be they are being nice or they truly believe it, but only you can decide when you are done. If you have that person right by your side each step of the way who believes in your goals as much as you do, you won't get distracted. (Love you, honey!)

Comments? I'd love to hear them!

(Also, this is what happens when I don't write for six weeks - 2800 words! Even the book took a back seat during this journey until just the other day when I got back into the editing. Fourth draft will be finished...soon.)

What I've Learned Losing Weight - So Far

The losing weight thing is going pretty well. So far I'm down 23 pounds and weigh less than Wifey has ever known me. Haven't been this little since my senior year in college, which was...um...crap, 13 years ago? When did THAT happen?!

I have about 20 pounds or so left to go, which if I reach that point I'll weigh what I did when I graduated from high school - 165 pounds. According to the brilliant measurement of BMI that's where I need to be to not be considered "overweight." Then again, I feel any measurement which does not take into account muscle mass is a bunch of crap, but that's a personal opinion.

Over the course of the past couple months I've learned some things about myself and my body. Some of these things are not flattering and really piss me off. You've been warned.

Losing weight is expensive. I'm not talking about spending the money for better food or anything like that; I'm talking about the results. This is a crappy thing to complain about (and really, it's not a complaint), but I have to go shopping now. My pants are falling off me and my belts are too loose to do anything about it. My button down shirts look like they belong to my big brother who plays offensive line. Even my T-shirts are baggy. I've been wearing XL tees since midway through high school, first for style and then because that felt the most comfortable, but now it's back to Ls for me. Like I said, it's been 13 years since I weighed this amount, so I don't exactly have some clothes to go back to, ones that used to fit.

Plus, right now I'm at an odd, in-between size. All of my clothes are clearly too big, but I'm not close enough to my goal to justify a new wardrobe. I have to decide how much I really should spend for clothes that, if all goes well, will become too big in a couple months.

I see a trip to the Woodburn Factory Stores in my future. Nike, Under Armour, The North Face, Calvin Klein...I need some of everything. And a belt.

And not just clothes. You know what else happens when you get skinnier? Your fingers get thinner. That wedding ring you got seven years ago when you were at 205? Well, it doesn't fit on your hand the same way at 184. I've caught myself almost losing the ring in the sink a couple of times already now, plus a few other times had it almost fall off. I guess I'll have to get it re-sized, which will probably cost me money.

Speaking of designer labels... I used to be adamant brands like Calvin Klein simply didn't make clothes that fit my body style - specifically my legs. They were, I would argue, too thick, muscular. Simply put I was fooling myself with a pile of bullshit. It's amazing how losing a few pounds suddenly gives you more clothing options.

Eat soup! Soup really is the perfect meal. It almost always has vegetables in it and if it's broth-based the calories are likely to be low. But, stay away from the crap in the cans. That's full of sodium, plus it usually tastes like, well, crap. Both of the grocery stores we frequent, New Seasons and Whole Foods, have a pretty good selection of fresh soups that don't have preservatives. Add a slice of toast or some crackers and it's a complete meal. The creamy soups, like a clam chowder, are higher in fats and calories, but still - relatively speaking - not bad for you. This has been my lunch for the past month during the week and the variety of soups keeps it from getting boring. I do wish there was a great soup restaurant in Portland where I could grab quarts to go.

I'm cold. I have no idea if this is directly related to having less padding on my body or what, but I've been freezing the past month, ever since I dropped under 200. I'm cold at work, cold in the car, and cold at home. Nothing with the temperature in those places has changed nor have I changed what I'm wearing. The only thing I can point to is there being less of me. I used to think it was odd people were cold when I thought it was still plenty warm, but now I get it. I wasn't hot - I was fat.

Use a food scale. Buy one. Use it. Measure servings. Those numbers on the side of the package? They mean something.

Keep the food journal. I can't say enough about how using the MyFitnessPal app on my phone has helped me on this journey. I resisted it for so long because of the work involved in tracking everything, but the app made it easy, especially since my phone is always on me anyway. And holy shit is it eye-opening. It becames apparent very quickly where you have been going wrong when you see exactly what you get for 400 calories. Or how much a simple cheeseburger can cost you. When you are targeting to net about 1,500 calories on the day it's simply not worth spending 800-1000 on the burger.

Sidenote: We have this Tanita scale that tells all sorts of fun little tidbits about your body that it can apparently measure simply by you standing on it (I have no idea how this voodoo works). One of the things it tells you is an estimate of how many calories you must consume on a daily basis to maintain your weight. It routinely would give me a number north of 3,500 and I would routinely think, "No way I eat that much food." Well, guess what? I kept gaining weight, so apparently I was fooling myself. Again. Maybe, just maybe, if a scale is telling you that you need to eat 3,500 calories to maintain your weight, and you know you are overweight, and then you keep gaining...maybe you're doing something wrong. Just saying.

And no, I won't lie - I still eat it. Occasionally. I still have a beer - once a week. I still eat chocolate - a couple times a week. I've eaten cheesecake and some other things that aren't "diet" food. But you know what? I planned for it and worked out the rest of my calories for the day in advance. I'm figuring out how to have treats and still stay on target. If I can't do that, then this will never work.

It's really all about the excuses. This sounds cheesy, but it's just like this year's season of the Biggest Loser: No Excuses. We've watched every season and many of the things they show or talk about on there we've learned along with the contestants plus gone and done our own research. But still, I was way too heavy. All those excuses I've had before...it's all bullshit. There is literally no excuse for not doing this. It's not rocket science, it's not difficult, it's not a quick fix - it's just get over yourself and do what you need to do.

At the same time you can't do it if you don't want to do it. You can't help someone, even yourself, that doesn't want to be helped. It has to become a priority, otherwise it won't happen. And to make it a priority, maybe you have to give up something else.

I'm rambling now, so perhaps it's time to end this...for now. I'm sure there is more learning in my future.

Time to Quit Screwing Around

There are times when you know something to be true, but heaviness of that truth doesn't really make an impact until someone points it out to you in plain language. Then you stop and think about it and wonder how the hell you've let it get to this point.

For me, I knew I was overweight, but it wasn't a priority to deal with it. Later, always later. Two jobs, working on a book, and all that goes with that, it just didn't seem like the most important thing. Just recently a few different things happened that changed my mind.

I suppose I first have to give some credit to my day job. This year as part of our health insurance we were given an incentive of $480 savings on our 2013 insurance contributions if we took a Personal Health Survey and took a biometric screening test (cholesterol, triglycerides, all that). I did the survey, which was kind of silly because you get the incentive just for taking it, regardless of the results and with no need to create some kind of plan that is tracked based on those results; basically it's free money. 

Then I went in for the blood draw for the biometric test. This just happened to be the day after I clocked 207.4 on the scale, which for someone a dash over 5-8 is, well, too much. Again, I knew this, but it didn't seem to really register (I guess). I've been higher over the past 10 years or so, but been able to get it down to the 200 or so mark (still - too high) with focus on exercise and diet for relative short periods. Of course, at the screening facility they don't weigh you naked and I was actually recorded at 212. I guess it was a good thing I was wearing just running shoes and not my hiking boots, since this is the number they used to calculate my BMI (thanks for that inaccurate number, by the way). 

Next up came checking the blood pressure. Over the past few years it's been checked at various times and it's always been a tad high. It was one of those things that wasn't quite a worrying number, just at the point where I could tell myself, "Hey, this will come down when I lose a few pounds." And then it was forgotten.

When I came home that day, my wife asked me what my numbers were. Um, 159 over 89. "Holy shit!" she said. And that's when it hit me. I knew the numbers were bad, knew I should do something about it, but until I heard the intensity of her concern at the number, it wasn't real enough. Regardless of the outcome of the biometric testing I needed to start making changes. (The biometric results came back with slightly high normal bad cholesterol, very low good cholesterol, and slightly high triglycerides. Nothing horrible, but not great either.)

The first change I made had to do with sleep. I routinely would stay up until midnight during the week, sometimes later, despite the fact the alarm goes off at 5:30 am. We pledged to each other we'd be in bed by 11. On the morning side I pushed the alarm back to 6. I was leaving the house at 7am every day, but much of the time was spent reading during my breakfast. Since that usually amounted to 30-45 minutes, I decided the sleeping time was more important and so far have managed to cut half an hour out of the morning routine with the only fallout being reduced progress reading whatever novel I'm in the middle of. Simply because of that I've noticed I am more awake in the morning, which means I need less coffee to get going. 

Next I decided to reduce my number of commitments. I have a day job that pays all the bills, but I was also the editor of a sports news website. Being a news editor, no matter the assigned hours, is an always-on type of job simply because of what it is. News does not sleep, so articles continuously have to be reviewed, edited and placed in the correct location on the site. I decided the extra check wasn't worth the stress on my day, so I gave up the title and went back to being just a writer. Giving up that responsibility went a long ways towards lessening my workload in the evenings and feeds into my ability to get to bed earlier.

The last major thing I did was start tracking my calories. At the endorsement of local chef Ken Gordon (of Kenny and Zuke's fame) I downloaded the My Fitness Pal app from iTunes to track everything I put in my mouth on my iPhone (there is a corresponding website which I have never used, but makes it available not just to iPhone owners). Every dietitian will tell you a major component of changing your eating patterns is keeping a food journal and this app, with me everywhere, makes it easy. Another byproduct? At least for me, the simple act of keeping the journal changes what I eat because I want to be eating healthier if I'm tracking it. I decided I wanted a goal of eating 1800 calories in a day, getting that down to 1400 or so after workouts, and have been tracking my food for two weeks. I'm eating healthier, feeling better, and really feel like these changes are ones I can live with. Heck, I can even have a beer if I like, as long as I work it into the day's calories. (For those of you who care, here is a nice guide to calc the number of calories in a 12 ounce beer - it's based on the alcohol percentage. Hat tip to @obeyshiba for the link.)

I only made a slight change to my exercise schedule, adding in more walks to one that included the treadmill. Since Misaki is on a restricted diet herself to cut off a couple pounds this works nicely - we both get the extra burn we need.

I'm working less eggs and more seafood into the diet to work on the cholesterol imbalances, more fruits and vegetables and less grains in general, more chicken breast and minimal pork and red meat, and trying to manage my dairy intake a little closer. The hardest part of this is the less eggs and milk. I've loved dairy my entire life, but now I have to be more careful about how I consume it to balance the fats and calories. And eggs? Well, instead of two eggs for my daily breakfast I'm now down to just one a couple times a week. We're adding new things to our diets too, like quinoa (actually pretty tasty) and, just recently, cauliflower.

Another very difficult thing for me is recognizing when to eat what. The idea of having your big meal for breakfast, average meal at lunch, and a small meal at dinner - with a couple snacks mixed in - is a total mind shift. We've taken to having soup for dinner, which we get fresh at New Seasons or Whole Foods, because it's low in calories and usually very good for you (the fresh soup don't have the sodium issues the canned ones do - and taste a ton better). I'm still trying to get my head around having what I think of traditional dinner food for breakfast, such as a rice/chicken/vegetable combination instead of eggs, toast and cereal. The concept just feels wrong, but the results are so damn right.

So far I'm down nine pounds in two weeks, which is a phenomenal (and unexpected) start. I'm not going to expect this pace to continue - that would be crazy - but I have a few things I can do when I do start to level off. Lifting weights is one, longer and more frequent walks is another. Or more time on the elliptical. And every day I see how my foods add up in the calorie counting app and I find something I could do better (holy shit peanut butter makes an impact!).

This time I believe the changes will stick. I really don't have any other choice.

Should I Correct Someone Else's Kid?

Let me start with this: there is no dog I would trust more, ever, with an unknown child than Misaki. In fact, I'm willing to bet she's a better and more trustworthy babysitter and caregiver than most day cares, but that's another topic for another day.

We are lucky with her. We know that. She loves people and will go out of her way to meet them. She isn't pushy, unless you count the nosing of legs, but she'll go over to people and stand expectantly at their feet, tail wagging (happy, effusive tail wagging, not the wary, anxious kind - we know the difference) and looking up with those chocolate brown eyes, until the person acknowledges her, preferably with skritches. It doesn't matter what age, gender, race - she's excited to meet people. (We joke she'd do whatever she could to help out someone robbing our house if it meant getting loved up.)

A lot of dogs aren't like this. We know this too, because of our experiences with Ruby the Akita. In fact, way back when in the early days of this blog I posted a plea to other dog owners about keeping their dogs on leash specifically because of what we dealt with her. If there is a spectrum of how well a dog gets along with strangers, Misaki is on one end and Ruby almost the polar opposite. She thought she was excited to meet people, but then would get so freaked out she'd pee on the floor. She would jump and bark at the slightest sound (Akita barks = earthquakes). A ringing of the doorbell on TV would put her on edge for hours. We deliberately kept her away from people - and absolutely other dogs - because after trying to get her over her fears it just wasn't happening. Instead, we gave in and decided to keep her within her comfort zone, for better or worse.

With Ruby we always told the neighborhood kids they could not pet her. Most of them were scared of the 90-pound Akita, ripped with muscles and a mouth full of sharp teeth. With Misaki? We don't worry in the slightest. Provided the kids ask politely we let them, because how could you resist this?

You can't. No one could. She puts up with a lot too. Most kids don't know how to properly approach a dog, which is somewhat darkly comical considering most of them freak out over a spider while the dog could rip their face off with one bite. She wouldn't, but she could. She lets them roughly pet her, give her kisses, put their face right up to hers, and her tail will wag wildly the entire time. The worst she might do is sniff their face and huff at them, possibly blowing a little spit on their cheeks.

We trust Misaki, but we know her. These kids? They shouldn't be so trusting. Chances are if they approach her like this that's how they approach any dog. If they had tried that with Ruby they might be dead. Heck, other Shibas wouldn't necessarily respond as pleasantly as her. I can probably count on one hand using three fingers the number of kids who have approached Misaki - a dog they do not know - in the right manner. (This is where I link to this fantastic Huffington Post piece by Sophia Lin regarding the proper way to approach a dog and how to recognize anxiety and fear reactions - hat tip to The Misanthropic Shiba for posting on Facebook. This should be required reading for everyone: parents, children, adults, old people, whomever.)

Every time another kid puts a hand on either side of her face and gives her nose bumps, which she enjoys, I think I should say something. I feel I should say they shouldn't do that, it's not the right way to approach a strange dog. I feel like I should show them the proper way.

But I don't. It's not my kid. I don't have kids, don't plan on having kids. This is something their parents should be teaching them, right? (And no, the parents are never around - not on the sidewalk and not at the park. Yes, they SHOULD be, but they aren't, and the fact they should be is a completely different discussion. Unfortunately the parents aren't in this equation.) And also, most parents don't like strangers correcting their children, even if they are right. The last thing I want to deal with is have some kid go whining home to their parents about how this guy yelled at them for petting his dog, and then at some point that parent wants to have a discussion with me.

On the flip side, if that kid gets his face torn off by the next dog he tries to approach that way, will I feel guilty when I see the story on the news? Do I have an obligation to correct these kids? Should I start? Do I have to take the time to explain to them the right way to approach a strange dog, even though all Misaki wants to do is smell their face?

This is where I turn to you, Internet. I'm going to post this on Facebook, my Twitter account, and Misaki's tumblr blog, and I'm hoping the Shiba community - and the dog community as a whole - can give some insights on this topic. Has this happened to you? Do you say something? How do you do it? Do you feel a societal obligation that you should say something?

Please, leave comments and start a discussion - I want to see where this goes. And thank you!

New Year's Day Bombs

Wifey and I aren't big celebrators of the New Year's holiday. Maybe age is catching up with us now that we have hit mid-thirties, but staying up until midnight to see a ball drop has lost all of it's appeal to me. Not that it was ever all that appealing; most of the time New Year's Eve ended up seeming like a waste of time to me.

I mean, really, all we are celebrating is buying a new calendar, right? I have no cultural or religious ties to the symbolism of a new year and nothing seems to change on that day anyway - hey, it's a holiday, stuff is closed - so I don't see the big deal.

Which makes celebrations of the new year that much more crazy to me. When, exactly, did blowing shit up become a thing for the new year? It makes even less sense than the traditional celebrations on the Fourth of July and increasingly, in my neighborhood at least, the differences between the two holidays are becoming minimal.

This year Wifey and I went to Mirakutei for dinner on New Year's Eve. We got there early and stuffed ourselves with sushi, gyoza and ramen, and were back home by 7ish. The rest of the evening was going to be for a movie and catching up on the DVR. When we got home, though, our cute little puppy was a little freaked out.

When we go places we can't bring her Misaki stays home in her crate, closed in to avoid any possible fights with the cats we can't police. She doesn't mind this at all and is usually pretty stoked to go in there (mostly because it also includes treats). And this one, she is most absolutely not shy. Not in the least. But when we got home Misaki the Shiba was super clingy.

She jumped at sounds, even little ones. She didn't want to go outside just to go to the bathroom. As you can see from the pictures she curled up to Wifey and didn't want to let go, which is something she very, very rarely does. Not this Shiba; this Shiba can take care of herself.

Then we heard the bomb go off.

No, it probably wasn't ACTUALLY a bomb, but close enough. They were going off not long after we got home and then intermittently until after 2am, so I'm sure they started while we were gone. Maybe it's because we weren't home or maybe something louder happened, or maybe it's because it makes no sense to be blowing stuff up on New Year's Eve, but Misaki did not approve at all. (And really, if the Shiba doesn't approve it should not happen. Am I right Shiba owners?) The Fourth of July doesn't bother her at all.

And aren't these fireworks/bombs kind of expensive? I don't exactly live in a neighborhood where the household incomes typically would allow for the spending of hundreds - or thousands - on this kind of crap, but I suppose it's all about priorities and some people apparently have the priority of freaking out my dog. She would never admit it, but we could tell; her normally stoic facade was cracked.

That's how when midnight came we were both laying on the floor with Misaki, skritching her ears to keep her relaxed, away from the television or even a clock. We only knew midnight had come because the blowing-shit-up people started blowing shit up at a more rapid pace. Yay - thanks drunk people with explosives!

But you know what? It was one of my better New Year's Eves. Just the three of us, cuddled up on the floor, with Misaki's Shiba purrs rumbling between Wifey and I.

Moral of the story? Ridiculous amounts of bombs being set off by drunk people celebrating random times (not midnight) are bad, and Shibas are awesome and sometimes even they need a few extra cuddles too.

Dear Netflix: Thank You

Dear Netflix:

I changed my plan on the website today, downgrading to a cheaper option. It was something I've been meaning to do for awhile, I just hadn't got around to it. Then, not more than a couple hours later, I read this article on CNN about how you lost 800,000 subscribers this past summer and I felt I needed to explain a bit.

See, the fact of the matter is I changed my plan because of that initial decision by your company to split apart the Instant streaming option from the disc options, but it's not out of anger or annoyance. No, it's because I'm glad they are now two different things and I don't want to pay for streaming.

This is Misaki's Twitter buddy, Taro the Shiba, nomming on a Netflix envelope.

See, streaming just doesn't do anything for me. I understand the point, but I don't use it. I don't watch video on my computer, my phone, or my iPad, nor do I have any intention of beginning anytime soon. I own a 46-inch television which I like very much, but it's not a streaming device. Sure, I can use my PlayStation3 (and have), but every time I go to stream something I have to re-synch the device to my account or download some kind of update. After I finally get that done, then I have to wait for the movie to download and most of the time there are still hiccups.

On top of that, it doesn't download in the same quality of video as a Blu-Ray disc. It's a hassle, and whether or not it's my setup (I doubt it) or my ISP (maybe), the fact of the matter is it just doesn't work for me.

And that's fine, I'm sure. I understand Netflix's plan all along has been the discs were only a bridge until they could go all streaming. Unfortunately infrastructure just doesn't support that yet, nor are people ready for that. And then there are people like me, who sit in front of a computer all day long and really want to relax on the couch and enjoy that wide screen Sony they bought. Maybe if my computer monitor was nicer, or my office chair more comfortable, I'd change my mind. But they aren't. Add in the fact I watch a movie at most once a week (usually less) and it's not like I'm going to run out of first-run movies (that aren't available for streaming anyway) to watch.

So all of this is just to say when a dollar amount was finally attached to streaming and the opportunity there to choose to not include streaming and pay less, I was very pleased.

Yes, there were hiccups for Netflix, PR-wise, but I get it. I totally understand the thought process behind coming up with Qwikster, even if you aren't sticking with it. It makes sense because that's not your core business, that's not what is going to carry Netflix forward. The price changes make sense too, since I have read about how the studios, some of whom gave you a sweetheart distribution deal in the beginning, are now squeezing you. I know your costs are about to skyrocket, and you know what? Even with raising the price, your service is still cheaper for me than any other service.

Netflix, I get it. And yes, I did change my plan, and as a single number in a spreadsheet which says I downgraded and am now paying you less money per month, it will look like I made the decision because I'm unhappy, but I wanted to make it clear that's the furthest from the truth. I am, in fact, very happy with Netflix's service and made the change because of that.

Thank you for finally giving me exactly what I want. I appreciate that.

Sincerely,

The MyNWX Family

My Personal Energy Report

Apparently NW Natural Gas and Portland General Electric have decided to go out of their way to make me feel guilty about the amount of energy we use here in the MyNWX household.

Each month they jointly send out something called the Personal Energy Report. They mail this to me, rather than sending it via email, despite the fact both have my email address on file and were adamant they wanted to send my bills electronically about a year or so back.

I never asked for this report, but it just started appearing in my mailbox sometime in the last year.

What it does is tell you how much energy I use in this index they created that combines eletricity (kilowatt hours) and natural gas (therms) into a single measurement. They then take this number, put it on a bar graph, and compare your household to 100 neighbors that have a home similar in size and also have gas and electricity service.

This bar graph has three lines. A green line indicates how much energy the most efficient 20% of neighbors in the group uses.

The gray line in the middle is an average of all 100 neighbors.

The blue line at the bottom is your usage rate. Then, in big, bold lettering they give you your rank among the 100 neighbors.

Apparently my house is not very efficient, or I'm using way more juice than everyone else, because every month this report calls out my rank of 75 or lower in the group of 100 and then proceeds to detail ways for me to be more efficient.

I have no issues with pointing this information out. On some level, it's helpful. However, it also lacks complete context. The value of my home is right about average for my neighborhood, which is about as average middle class as it gets. However, my house has air conditioning, which I run from roughly June through September. Yes, it uses significantly more juice than a house without it, which doesn't bother me one bit - I will pay for A/C in my house and not feel a shred of remorse.

However, homes with A/C are not common in the greater Portland area, especially on homes in similar size and value as mine (I'd like to say it was my idea to put it in, but the house came with it, thankfully). I'm curious: How many of the 74 homes who are more efficient than mine have A/C? There could be some, sure, but I'm guessing not many.

Of course, the people putting together this report have no idea if I have A/C or not, or if anyone else does either. They don't know if I have a gas stove or anything else - this entire report is based simply on the fact I and 99 other people in houses of similar size have both gas and electric service.

Again, send me the report if you must, but give it context. My home should only be compared with like homes (i.e., ones with A/C). By ignoring a key point of information, this group is inadvertantly making a blanket statement that the only thing that matters is your energy bottom line. If I simply opened my windows and laid on the floor sweating heavily when the thermostat topped 95 degrees, I'd get a gold star.

The end of the report has something called Action Steps - things you can do to reduce your energy costs. Again, a great idea. But are they helpful? Here's the three things:

1 - Hang laundry to dry. Sure, I could do that, I suppose. That might save a tiny bit of electricity - in those same four months I use my A/C. Not really sure what they expect their customers in Portland to do the other eight months of the year...

2 - Remove your second refrigerator. I'll keep that in mind, if I ever buy one.

3 - Use solar outdoor lights. I'll keep this in mind, also, if I ever start using outdoor lights.

I gotta say, getting this report every month never fails to simply annoy me. It feels a little bit like a personal attack, even though it's really meaningless. It's not like my rates are going up or anything, it's simply a statement of what NW Natural and PGE consider facts.

And I still can't get over how they can't just email this to me...

Not So Lucky This Time

Last fall I got pulled over for speeding in Hillsboro and inexplicably did not get a ticket. I mean, that's great, I don't want one, but it always surprises me (not that it happens all the time or anything) how subjective the process is.

To me it's pretty clear. Officer records driver speeding, officer pulls driver over, officer writes ticket.

So why do they sometimes not write a ticket? Or why do they sometimes pull a driver over in a given situation, but then in an identical situation not pull them over? Why is so much left to however the officer feels in a given moment? (I have no answers for these questions, only weak suppositions having to do with how much sleep the officer got the night before or how motivated they may be feeling - kind of like me every day I go to work.)

A few months ago we drove out to the coast for the day. We go to Cannon Beach a lot (that's where I proposed), so that means taking Highway 26 straight west from Portland to Highway 101 and heading south a few miles. Highway 26 is a beautiful drive, twisting through the Coast range, hitting a summit of about 1600 feet, with forests and tiny, tiny towns dotting the route. It crosses back and forth over rivers and streams, mostly on two-lane roads with the occasional passing lanes, and about the only negative is having to see some of the clear-cut forests desperately trying to recover.

And it's a smooth drive. The posted speed limit is 55 and generally people follow it, but often they drop to 50 and sometimes even lower. I pass those people whenever I can, because I'm more likely to be hitting 60-65. I love the drive, but it's still 70 miles to the coast and even at 8am I'm in a hurry to avoid the rush and make sure we get a parking spot, either in town in Cannon Beach or one of the beaches near the town. (On a summer weekend if you don't get there by 10am you will have great, great, great difficulty finding a parking spot anywhere on the coast.)

There is a stretch of road heading west, coming down from the summit, where it widens to four lanes as it twists down the mountains. It passes by the one rest stop on the way (so if you need to go, you can't miss it) and eventually bottoms out near the turn-off to the north to head to Saddle Mountain (a hike we have done once and need to do again, but it's not an easy one). Coming down the mountain the road curves in lazy turns and cars just about always hit 70. I do. Sometimes it's planned because I'm passing someone who inexplicably drives 50 when there is one lane but hits 65 when there are two, but others it's just a product of enjoying the smooth drive and coasting downhill.

Coming out of one these curves, a couple miles east still of the Saddle Mountain turn-off, about half the time a state trooper is sitting there gunning the Portlanders heading to the beach. I've seen him many, many times. I've panicked many, many times, wondering if I'm going to get pulled over. I've driven past him at 72 miles an hour, and not been pulled over.

Saturday I was not lucky. I came out of the curve at 71, saw the police car, and hit the brakes, but of course once you see the car it's too late - your speed has already been recorded. As I passed him, down to about 63 by that time, I saw the lights come on and swore. I pulled over before he barely made it on the road and had my license and insurance card waiting for him. Not a lot you can say, right? Nothing to argue.

The officer was polite, but he did give me a ticket ($190, ouch). He must not have been a dog person, because Misaki gave him her best puppy dog eyes to no avail.

Like I said, I can't complain - I was speeding. What really bugs me is I know there is always an police car in this exact spot, but I wasn't paying close enough attention to anticipate that. (Yes, sure, the other option is just always keep it under 65 - I know.) Not only do I have only myself to blame for speeding, but I have only myself to blame for being stupid and speeding without paying attention to my exact circumstances.

One of these days I'll learn, I suppose.

Good thing I don't have a car that really would be conducive to driving fast, like a BMW or a Porsche. I'd be screwed then.

No, My Dog Is Not For Sale

Yesterday Wifey and I took Misaki for a walk around the neighborhood and to the local park, like we try and do daily. Usually we don't run into anyone, but on this day there were three girls, probably about 9-13 (I'm horrible at estimating, so give that a +/- of 5), who saw her from the other side of the street.

We could hear them talking about Misaki from a ways away, with one of them saying "That looks like a fox!" and then another one saying the same thing.

"I already said that."

Oh lord. Predictably the girls crossed the street and then asked if they could pet Misaki. At least they asked first. The following conversation actually happened.

Girl 1: Your dog looks like a fox!
I just smiled.
Girl 2: Can we pet your dog?
Girl 3: Can we pet your fox?
Me: Sure, you can pet her.
Girl 1: Wait, is it really a fox?!
Me, incredulous: No, she's a dog.

Quick aside: How many suburbanites have ever seen a fox? I'm guessing not many at all. Yet still, every time we go out people crack jokes about how Misaki looks like a fox. Really? Could you pick a fox out of a lineup of Shibas? Where do people run across foxes in everyday life? I grew up in a rural area outside of Portland and saw a fox exactly once, early on a very cold morning, and even then it was in a field far away from people. I blame Disney.

They pet her, oohing and ahhing. Misaki loves the attention, gladly allowing herself to be loved up by three erratic young girls at the same time. One of them, the youngest I think, put her face up to Misaki's muzzle and looked her straight in the eye, which was right about the time we decided it was time to go. Apparently no one has ever taught these girls how to be around a dog. Hell, I wouldn't do that with most dogs ever, let alone dogs I don't know. (Misaki I do, but she's the sweetest thing ever.)

Then the following exchange also really happened.

Girl 2: Can I buy your dog? This is my new dog.
Me: Um, no...
Girl 2: How much would you sell your dog for? I'll buy your dog.
Me, getting the hell out of there: She's not for sale

First off, crazy girl, you can't afford her. I'm pretty sure you don't have a million dollars socked away in a drawer. Secondly, who DOES that? Just tries to buy a dog from someone off the street?

I suppose I could blame the parents, but I don't think I can because they probably don't know any better. Hard to teach something to kids you don't understand or do yourself, I'm guessing (I don't have kids, so I'm hardly a reliable resource on the subject). The parents would probably do the same thing in the same situation.

So someone, somewhere, at some point decided this was acceptable practice. That person is insane.

Yes, you can pet my dog. She's a sweetheart. If she weren't, I'd tell you no (we usually told people no with Ruby). Please keep your face away from hers.

And don't ask me is she's for sale or intimate in any way you want to take her. That's rude...and really, really creepy.

What Really Scares Me

I have a confession to make: vampires don't scare me. Neither do ghosts, werewolves, zombies, or pretty much anything in the paranormal realm. It doesn't matter if the character/being is being spun at me all sparkly and with feelings by Stephanie Meyer or with fangs dripping blood bent only on imminent in something concocted by the crazy mind of Stephen King.

It doesn't scare me because it's not real. I don't believe in the existence of any of these things/beings outside our own imaginations, so how could I be scared of them?

That's not to say I completely discount their possible existence. Who knows? The world is a crazy place and unexplained occurrences happen all the time, so maybe at some point I will be shown some kind of proof, but until then I'm just as happily agnostic about the paranormal as I am in the existence of a higher power.

Some say there is crossover between the two; I don't want to get into that.

I just can't find myself getting scared by this genre in a book or a movie. Sure, I may get bothered or shocked out of my skin, but scared? Nope. (This is not an invitation to the world to go out of your way to scare the shit out of me. That would just be rude.)

What does scare me is scenarios with truth in them. A time and place where something happens to a person and I think, hey, I could see that happening to me. And what would I do in that situation?

Getting caught in the middle of a store robbery.

Getting in a car wreck with a drunk driver.

Being stuck on a plane with malfunctioning engines.

Finding myself as one of the unfortunate pieces of collateral damage in a terrorist attack.

Stuck in the crossfire between two gangs in an urban neighborhood.

Wrongfully accused of something and being unable to prove it.

Losing my job and running out of money.

THAT shit scares me. THOSE are the kinds of things that keep me up at night.

The late night ringing of the doorbell.

This one actually happened a few weeks back. Wifey and I were in the office, her studying and me working on the novel, about 9:30 or 10 at night, when the doorbell rang. Odd. Who rings a doorbell that late? That's never good, right? Misaki didn't even bark, just looked down the hallway towards the stairs and then back at us.

After debating for a couple seconds, I decided to answer the door. "Be careful," Wifey called as I walked down the stairs.

Think about that for a minute. We are sitting in our own house, minding our business, and the simple action of a doorbell ringing after dark necessitates a reminder to be careful. What does that say? And yes, I was a little freaked out. Should I grab a knife from the kitchen, just in case? Do I even open the door?

I debated this as I walked down the stairs. Then I did what most people do in these situations: I chose to believe the 99% probability this would be completely harmless. That other 1%, though, is where I get totally freaked out about.

I answered the door after flipping on the porch light and a man, who had made it back to the sidewalk at this point, hurried back to my door. I tensed, unsure what to expect, until I recognized his face as my neighbor. Then I relaxed, mostly (not completely - we don't know them that well), and asked what was up.

"I have to tell you something," he said. Um, really? Now? Okay, what?

Neighbor proceeded to point out a house just up the street on the next corner, a house with a family I don't know, and said that a couple days before - he just found this out - the mom woke up early in the morning, about 5ish, and went to the kitchen to make some breakfast. She saw a man in her backyard. Here Neighbor made a point to say the man didn't belong there, but in my mind I'm thinking well, what man does belong in any backyard at 5am?

The man saw her and ran off. She didn't get a good look at his face and had no description, but a patrol car did come out and take a statement, then pledging to up patrols in the area a bit.

The end result of this story had Neighbor urging us to keep our doors locked and our eyes open. He thought we should know. I said thank you, I appreciated that, and didn't say I was more freaked out by the doorbell ringing late than this story.

But it is disconcerting, to say the least. Backyards are not secure by any means. When you really think about it, neither are houses. Or cars. Or really much of anything. Locked doors are more of a deterrent than they are really about keeping the bad people out, the presumption being why make it easy for them, and if it's not easy, they will look elsewhere.

But this, this is the shit that scares me. The little bits of every day life that could so easily go horribly wrong. Or the events with a broader impact, like a terrorist attack, and getting stuck in the middle of a fight I have no dog in (which, really, is a horrible, horrible phrase - dogfighting? really? that's a metaphor?) and being forced to deal with the situation in the way I best know how, which may not be very good at all.

In the story I have written, part of the main sequence of events is under the control of the main characters, but the biggest flashpoint of the story is not - they are forced to react with something they never saw coming and go from there. To me the story is not necessarily in the event itself, though the events are fun to write and work through, but in how a given set of characters reacts to those events.

For me, a story will always begin with the phrase "What if....?" and go from there. Maybe it's an exercise in learning about myself, about preparing myself for the unexpected, or maybe it's simpler than that. Or more complicated. Or simply just is.

I do know that this is the shit that keeps me up at night. This is the shit that scares the holy hell out of me when I think about it too much, too deeply.

Vampires and werewolves? That's just entertainment.

Where Did They Go?

Life is full of mysteries. Items in our lives inexplicably disappear and are found with no explanation, leaving you standing there scratching your head with a look of utter confusion on your face.

This is one of those stories.

Longtime readers of this blog may know we are in love with the milk from Lady Lane Farms. Milk, chocolate milk, half-and-half, cream - anytime we need any of that, we get it from them, either at the Beaverton Farmer's Market during the season or at New Seasons out of season. Their milk comes in glass bottles - half gallon, quart, and pint sizes - for which we pay $1.50 deposit each. When we return them, to the booth or New Seasons, we get the credit.

We drink a fairly decent amount of dairy for two people, so when I go back to the grocery store I usually have three or four of these to return. After rinsing them out, they go out to the garage, and then I carefully place them in the back of the Escape - nicely padded with towels so they don't bang together - for the trip back to the store.

Yesterday we brought Misaki with us and planned to stop at a park on the way to the store for a quick walk, so when we went out to the garage I had one hand holding Misaki's leash and Wifey went to get the mail. With my other hand I lined up the empty glass bottles on the bumper, planning to put them in the back when I had two hands after putting Misaki on Wifey's lap.

You see where this is going don't you?

I put Misaki on Wifey's lap, walked around the back of the car past the bottles on the bumper, got in, put on my seat belt, turned on the car, backed the car out of the garage, closed the garage door, backed into the street, put the car in Drive, and headed off towards the store.

When I got to the store I went to the back of the car to grab the bottles, opened up the back door...and found zero glass bottles. Um. What? Oh. Damn.

Shit. Oops.

Apparently six dollars worth of glass bottles were lying shattered in the middle of the street near home. Yay me.

I hurriedly did my shopping and we stopped for a quick walk and bathroom break for Misaki on the way home. When we did get back home roughly an hour had passed. As we drove into the neighborhood, about four turns and three stop signs from the house, I slowed down, both of us keeping an eye out for broken glass I felt obligated to clean up.

Two turns from home we found the first bottle, the pint size, laying on the asphalt completely fine without even a crack. Interesting...but I stopped and put in the back of the car. One turn from home there was a nice pile of glass in the street, but not nearly the two half gallon and one quart bottle's worth of glass I expected. We pulled back into the driveway...and saw no other glass.

We quickly packed the groceries away and grabbed two dust pans, two brooms, gloves, and a Home Depot bucket to clean up the pile of glass we had seen in front of the neighbor's house. We hurried down to the corner, slipped on our gloves, picked up the big chunks (which included the top, clearly a half gallon bottle), and cleaned up the glass as best we could.

When we finished we looked in the bucket, then at at each, and both asked, "Where's the rest of it?"

See, the glass in the bucket looked like it came only from the half gallon - it wasn't very much. That means another half gallon and a quart are inexplicably missing. Where could they possibly have gone?

I have some theories.

1 - They didn't break when they fell and someone else picked them up. Or they did break and someone cleaned them up. In either case, thank you neighbor, whoever you are.

2 - They fell off and rolled under a parked car (I didn't get down and look under every car).

3 - They didn't fall off until much later, which means they were bouncing around in much heavier traffic. Whoops.

4 - A raccoon took them away to barter them for drugs from a coyote (everyone knows coyote's have the best drugs).

That's all I've got; some may be more likely than others. Either way, those two bottles have disappeared without a trace, which to me is just crazy. Meanwhile, I screwed myself out of six bucks, which is almost an entire gallon of gas, which would mean I could drive to and from work one more day. Does this mean I get a day off now?

Any of my three dear readers have any ideas on what may have happened to them?

Careful With Reviews

Amazon.com product reviews crack me up. I do look at them a lot of the time before buying something (which, if groceries were sold on Amazon, I'd never have to leave the house to shop again), but I've usually decided to make the purchase by then. If I've got that far, I'm just looking for an obvious reason NOT to buy something.

So instead of looking at the 95 of 100 reviews who think the product is awesome, I want to see why the other five didn't like it.

Almost always this do very, very little to sway my buying decision. And it's not because these people have issues with the product I deem as low risk or unlikely to apply to me (although, the person who complained about their network attached storage server not being able to work off a Linux server from a remote site was once instance where, yeah, it didn't apply - and I made half those words up), but it's because the complaint literally is not valid.

I pre-ordered a book once, can't recall the name, but it was still three months from release. One person had given it a negative review because they didn't like the author's last book after it was turned into a movie - or maybe it was because they were turned down for an autograph. I can't remember and both are about as relevant. Or not relevant, as the case is here.

Before I decided to read Hello Kitty Must Die, I read the customer reviews and they cracked me up. One person didn't like the book because it didn't have enough sex. (I don't recall seeing a promise of a ton of sex, either. However, read the book, it's fantastic.)

None of those things have anything to do with the quality of the writing in the book. They aren't concerned with how it was written or anything like that. And yet these comments contribute towards the overall rating of the book in a negative way, despite not really having anything to do with the book. Drives me crazy. I suppose the only way to counter that is to write positive reviews of my own? Sure, like I have all day to do that...

Perhaps my favorite negative review had to do with someone complaining about how Amazon is horrible because they had a delayed shipment on the book (or whatever it was). The reviewer explicitly said they love the book and would give it five stars, but gave it one because of the shipping issues.

What? How is that relevant to the product itself, which is the only think those stars are attached to? How is it the product's fault Amazon made a mistake? (For what it's worth, I have always been quite pleased with Amazon's customer service.)

Context people, context...

Simplify, Simplify, Simplify

There are times in my life when I wish everything was easier, simpler. One of those times is the annual going through of stuff to decide what is no longer necessary and can be sent off to the Goodwill or some other charitable entity. Or, if no other options, can be used as garbage can filler.

These are the same times I look at a pile of stuff and wonder what the hell was I thinking when I spent good cash on it?!

I don't want to make it sound we are pack rats or anything, we really aren't. And over the past few years we have become much, much better at not buying stuff we don't need or won't use very much. Still, it happens.

It's hard getting rid of things that cost whatever dollar amount, even if you really don't use them. I try to rationalize by telling myself the money isn't coming back no matter what, it was spend x amount of months ago, so it really doesn't matter anymore. That may or may not make sense, but it's good enough for my conscience.

One example is compact discs. I have a box of about 400 or so of these things. They have been ripped and put into iTunes and I have only twice in about four years gone back out to look for something. And I've bought two CDs in the past three years, both of them albums I wanted that just happened to be cheaper from Best Buy than they were digitally (and there was a third, which wasn't offered digitally at all).

Now I have this box of CDs, taking up space in my attic. And that 400? Wow...that represents a lot of cash spent, most of it at least seven or eight years ago. Some were bought used, some were gifts, some were free from Columbia House (though, as we all know, nothing is truly free from there), but most of them I bought. Heck, conservatively putting a $10 cost on each of them totals $4,000...and that's probably too low.

Now? Now these discs are practically worthless. And those VHS tapes and VCR I have, both which haven't been used in five years or more, are completely worthless. Heck, most of the DVDs we have are close to worthless too, in this age of streaming video via Netflix to the PlayStation 3 or straight to the PC.

I ask myself, do I really need to keep this stuff? How about the collection sports cards I have accumulated over the years? As they sit in boxes, am I getting anything out of them? Or is it time to downsize those too?

Ooh, kitchen gadgets. We love the kitchen gadgets. In the end, though, these single use items aren't necessarily better than the multi-use ones - or just a knife - and we may use them once a year. But still, they take drawer space and our kitchen isn't very big. How much do we really need?

And this idea of simplification running through my head isn't limited to stuff. I'd like to simplify my commute, so I don't spend 1.5 hours of the day driving 14 miles each way to work and back. Imagine working only 10 minutes away, what I could do with a whole extra hour!

I have this absurd ideal in my head of living in a small town where everything I need is in walking distance, but I know my tastes are not small town tastes. That town in my head probably doesn't have 12 different lunch options and stores that specialize in things like salt or olive oil or beer.

I'd like to be able to walk to the grocery store, perhaps daily if I like, and find high quality goods. I'd like to be able to walk or take a quick bike ride to work, or simply work at home. I wouldn't mind a smaller home if it was planned properly.

It's interesting how my point of view on life has changed in the past few years. It seems more often than not now when presented with an option I ask myself if something makes our lives easier, if it's really, truly worth it. I've started to ask myself if I really need it.

Do I need to BUY that book? Or can I get it from the library?

Do I need to BUY a disc, or should I just stream or download it?

Do I need to ATTEND a game, or am I fine watching it on TV from my couch?

I don't think this is an admission of laziness, though it could probably be construed that way. Instead, it's figuring out what really matters, what's really important to me, and embracing it in any way I can. It's why I've decided to write a book. It's why I feel the way I do about my job (predominantly the location). It's why I've given some thought to living somewhere else (though that's a ways down the list, unless finances suddenly make Maui affordable - not holding my breath).

Asking one's self "What's better for me?" isn't always taking the easy way out of something; sometimes it makes everything else more enjoyable.

Apparently It's Been Ten Years

When the calendar turned to the first business day of 2011 I officially became a member of the 10-year club at the day job. At my place of work that comes with a couple nice benefits, such as a single share of stock (which will prompt quarterly dividend checks in the pennies), a lunch at some point for all employees having an "anniversary" this year, and an extra week of vacation.

Well, the week of vacation I get for this year. Then in the next four years I don't get it, then it returns permanently in year 15. Yeah, it's weird.

So I got this letter in the mail just before New Year's from our company's division president, a form letter (that he did personally sign - maybe eBay will be interested), congratulating me on my "accomplishment."

That word stuck with me, because what does it really mean? What is my accomplishment, really? I managed to go ten years without leaving for something better or different and didn't piss anyone off enough to fire me?

Yay me.

It's at points like this in one's career where we tend to stop, to take a look back over wins and losses, and then to look forward over our expectation as to what will come next.

I gotta be honest here - such introspection doesn't exactly fill me with joy looking in either direction.

I'd like to think I've done my job well. The benchmarks used for my particular job are very positive in my time in the position. But as I look forward, do I see a future where such a thing is rewarded?

Not sure I do. Perhaps this is a beginning stage of a mid-life crisis, but I'm not old enough for that - and I prefer to think it as healthy analysis. I've been in one job long enough to recognize the cycles in process, to accurately predict how things will play out, and be able to call the things that will annoy me in the life of a project before they even happen, because it's always true.

Perhaps that sounds jaded, but at the same time if it's true...

Part of this also is, I believe, my standards for what I consider a good life have changed. The paycheck is still important, but it's not the top thing on the list anymore (rest assured, it's still high). As I've grown older little things, items that weren't important at 22, are now much more so. And how I want to spend my time has changed.

Hell, I've committed myself to writing, which can be hard when you come home from work drained from fighting battles both unnecessary and fruitless.

Where does that leave me? I suppose the proper word with regards to work life would be "unsatisfied."

Ten years in, this "accomplishment" sure rings hollow. Hopefully the next ten years, whether at this job or somewhere else, leave me feeling more productive, valuable, and satisfied.

In the meantime, it's time to go take more pictures of Misaki and the cats.