The Insanity of Triathletes

This is the first in a series I would like to title "Things I Will Probably Never Do In My Life."

A couple weekends ago I drove down to middle-of-nowhere Virginia -- no, Rye, not Rocky Gap -- to watch my bro-in-law, Ben, compete in a half-Ironman Triathlon. There were various incentives for going, but the most enticing was Ben's promise: "If I finish, I'm going to tattoo the Ironman logo on my butt." (I reminded him that since it was a half-Ironman he could justifiably get half the tattoo now and finish it up when he did a full one next August) As creepy as the prospect of seeing another man's pale white cheek normally is, I couldn't pass up the opportunity. I hopped in the car after work on a Friday and headed south.

Inking aspirations aside, it was impressive to think about what's involved in a half-Ironman triathlon: a 1.2-mile swim, 56-mile bike ride, and 13-mile run. Ben ended up doing quite well and we were proud of him. Granted, he wandered aimlessly for about 30 minutes after the race, mumbling stuff like "I don't feel good" and being nonresponsive to simple queries like: "What do you need? Water? Powerbar?", but all in all it was great.

Since I have never trained for or even considered doing a triathlon of any sort, I wouldn't know where to advise you on how to get ready for one. I am, however, an expert spectator, so I have done the courtesy of providing a list on how to best prepare to spectate such an event:

• Get used to cheering for people you don't know. Along with that, refrain from calling participants by name. They prefer whatever number is written in sharpie marker on their arm/leg;
  
• Bring a lawn chair from which you will have ample time to -- in between the sporadic and short opportunities you have to cheer for competitors -- contemplate your own laziness;
• Sunscreen;
  
• Prepare yourself to see girls with larger shoulders than you. This even applies to you, men (exception: Casey Tanner);
• Bring a tolerance for men in speedos. I will not offer advice on how to prepare for this aspect of spectating, and will leave that to your own discretion;
  
• Bring a defibrillator. Believe it or not, strenuous exertion for 5+ hours in mid-Atlantic summer humidity increases a person's chances of randomly collapsing at or near your feet;
• Bring a reluctant willingness to use your middle finger. This is reserved only for use on the spectators who feel that since they have previously completed a triathlon they somehow have license to make fun of those who are struggling or may not have all of the 'right' equipment. ***(In no other aspect of life do I endorse this action)***

Some memorable quotes from the day:

From Ben before he got in the water for the swim:
"Josh, I wish I had some words of wisdom for you right now..." *long pause as he begins to walk towards the beach* "...well, see you in 30 minutes"

Some random guy (#45, I believe) talking to his friend during the swim-biking transition:
"That's a long-ass swim"

Mad props to those who have the discipline and guts to train for crap like this!

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"Leave Nothing"

I'm sorry, but has anyone seen this commercial?

Why did it take so long for the normally genius marketers at Nike to combine football, an amazing movie soundtrack ("Last of the Mohicans"), a freak-of-nature LB (Shawn Merriman), and one of the best, current RB's (Stephen Jackson) into a commercial?

I would have liked to see the casting calls for the extras... "Football commercial" OK, I can handle that; "must be willing to dress in uniform" Tights and pads, I can handle that; "must be willing to sign injury waiver" naturally; "must be willing to be hit and / or run over by professional football players over multiple takes" maybe I'll wait for something else to come along.

This gave me the chills. It's obviously football season, isn't it?

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Dietary Scapegoats

Whether we like to admit it or not, we are subject to the influence of what 'experts' tell us. In some ways we have to be; none of us has the time (or interest...or patience...) to be an expert in everything (even though I know we've all met those people who talk so much they've convinced themselves that they do, in fact, know everything).

I've found that this is the case with food and nutrition. Do we really understand what all of these vitamins and minerals that we are supposed to be getting in our daily diet really do for us? Phosphorus? Iron? How many Vitamin B's can there be? Should we place a cap of 12 on Vitamin B's and form a Vitamin F category to simplify things?... So many questions...and because most of us are too lazy to figure it out, we're keeping GNC in business just to fill our daily quota.

Another thing I've noticed, though I haven't been around too long: The FDA seems to find a new nutritional villain every couple of years -- I'm not one to conjure up conspiracy theories, but I think it's just because someone at the FDA is getting bored and feels like shaking things up. The following is a roughly chronological list of nutritional stuff I've noticed over the last couple of decades that have more or less been deemed evil by the nutritional community:

• Fat / Sugar: These were always pretty obvious to us. Fat...well, made you fat. Sugar was the obvious culprit of rotting teeth and increased weight.
• Cholesterol / Sodium: As far as I can tell, these became the scapegoats in the early 90's as a result of increased awareness of heart disease.
  
• Nutrasweet: Oh, the irony of creating a substitute for sugar that ends up being a suspected carcinogen. I heard somewhere that this is also responsible for male infertility.
  
• Carbs: I've never seen something condemned as quickly as carbs were after the Atkins' revolution came about. Carbs have slowly worked their way back into our hearts, but the initial blow to the relationship indicates that it will never be the same.
  
• Trans Fat: This is the current hot topic. If you even mention the word in a restaurant the place is immediately evacuated.
  

I have a couple of predictions for the future:


Well, I think the lesson to be learned here is just try to eat healthy and don't worry about percentages.

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Football by the NUMB3RS

I love this time of year. It starts to cool down a bit, the leaves are changing colors, the chaos of summer vacation and travel are winding down. It's the perfect time to kick back and really enjoy what fall is all about: College Football. Yes, my friends, the greatest 4 months of the year are already upon us, and I hope you're enjoying it as much as I am. Granted, I could be in Provo for BYU home games, but I've got the next best thing at my place: A sweet bachelor-pad setup that allows me to view two football games simultaneously.

Since a pasttime of college football fanatics is looking at the box score and all the numbers after the game, let's breakdown the setup in my condo by the numbers:

84: The combined number of inches of viewable television screen between the two TV's in my condo. The specs: 52-inch ol' skool rear-projection TV with a 32-inch HD-LCD placed on top. We call it "Picture-on-picture". And lest we forget, this coincidentally is also the year that Lavell's passionless scowl and our troops donning midriff-revealing 80's jerseys brought home the National Championship.

2: Number of cable boxes in my apartment; # of X-Box's (one ol' skool and one 360); # of speakers taller than 6 feet

7: The presumed number of remote controls in my living room.

4: The amount of remote controls in my living room that can be found at any given time.

8: Number of speakers hooked up to our surround sound. What is it with us (guys) and surround sound? We have to have it because it "enhances the experience," which I find ironic because we spend most of the game complaining about how we would like the commentators to just SHUT UP with their idiotic, uh, commenting.

65: Percent chance that I will have an epileptic seizure based on sensory overload thanks to the continuous combined exposure to the aforementioned devices.

Some approximates:
~35-40: The estimated number of years that are shaved off of my life expectancy every time BYU has a close game. (Yes, I should be dead by now...but Asians have a long life expectancy)

~48: Cubic feet the love-sac is occupying in front of the TV.

Some inequalities:
<0: Probability that I will not be plopped in front of this sweet setup watching college football on a Saturday between the months of September and January; also, the amount of time left on the clock when Harline caught "the answered prayer" in BYU v. UT in '06 (Yes, I know that a probability of less than 0 is impossible... Asians aren't just good at math, we can use literary devices like hyperbole as well)

>5: Number of times I swear during a close BYU football game.

>200: Number of times I stop myself from swearing during a close BYU football game.

3: Number of hours spent in repentance following a close BYU football game.

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Presidential Aspirations

These are the bobbleheads we got at the Nationals-Mets game. Check out Abe's scowl. Abe isn't angry because of racism, or the South's rebellion... He's upset that every history textbook inevitably precedes their chapter on him with "although not particularly good-looking, President Lincoln was known to..."

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