A post not about running, training, P90X, cross-training or any other super searchable words

So let me tell you how things work in my house.

My wife told me the tank on our toilet seemed to be sloping backwards.  I took a quick look at it and tell her it's because it's an old style toilet with only two bolts.  These things sit up straight because the rubber seal between the tank and the bowl has four little feet on them and after awhile they get squishy and it slopes forward or back.  "I just need to replace it," I say, "Only take fifteen minutes."

"We'll stop by Lowe's after church," she said while brushing her teeth.

We get into Lowe's and walk around to the plumbing supply area and I can't find the part I want.  I start describing it to the guy (there's always 'the guy' at Lowe's) and he says, "Yeah, that's an old toilet. We'd need to order that."

Debbie pipes up and says, "Let's just get a new toilet."

Fine.

So we cruise around two aisles and pick out a new one.  On sale!

"Hey," Debbie says, "We've talked about remodeling the bathroom anyways.  I hate that shower unit."

The Old Shower

"Sure," I chime in.  "We can tile the walls, get a nice tub and new fixtures. Let's see if we can find a tub that will match the toilet."

So we walk around the corner and immediately find a great one on sale because it's a display model and they were discontinuing the model.  There were only two left and we grabbed the left hand drain one and put it on one of those big ol' trolleys, leaving the toilet on it's own little one.  Fortunately, the designs of the two looked remarkably similar so we were really pleased with our luck.

From there we hit the flooring department to look for tile, and went to the piles of them they had on clearance.  There were several different kinds and I had figured we only needed about 60 tiles.  We narrowed it down based on color wanting to keep it fairly neutral in case we decide to sell or rent the place in the future.  The tiles we settled on were only 58 cents a piece which is just ridiculously cheap, so we decided we'd bump up the design a little bit with some sort of accents.

Normally in showers where I'm doing 12 x 12 tiles I'll go about 5 feet (tiles) then rotate the tiles at 45 degrees.  Makes a nice look.  In this case we also picked up some cool glass accents that I'll use to create a 3" divide between the first 5 tiles and the angled ones at the top.  It's going to be really nice.

So we haul everything home after miraculously getting it into the Equinox I'm driving right now.  Then from there I got it all upstairs.

We decided to just set it all in the guest room because it was going to take me a bit to get all this work done since I was only going to be able to work at nights and on weekends.

Notice how that one box of tiles is opened?  Bottom right of the picture there.  Well Debbie pulled some out and carried them downstairs.  I get down there and she's laying them out on the foyer floor.

"I really hate this old slate in here."

"Only because it's hideous," I reply, "So what are you thinking?"

"How much would it cost to tile the downstairs?"

"I figure we've got just under 790 square feet down here, so not even $500!  I'll call Lowe's and see if they've got enough of those tiles left."

They did and delivered them two days later.  41 boxes of 'em.

While waiting for the tiles to get there I made some attempts to get the slate up.  No dice.  They were installed into a bed of wet cement as opposed to be glued down to a slab.  The kitchen has tile that would pop right up, but then I'd have to level that floor with the foyer.  Same was true about the ugly laminate we have in the dining and living room areas. The laminate was glued down, so it wasn't going anywhere and was a nice flat surface. I checked the bottoms of doors and measured the dishwasher and decided I could just go right over the top of everything.  Not the best way to go about things, but sometimes the most cost-effective.

From there we talked about the layout and snapped some lines to follow to ensure the pattern matched up perfectly from the foyer and around the hall and kitchen.  Then I started removing doors and hauling stuff out of the kitchen, like the big hutch full of dishes, cookbooks and glassware.

Now our house looks like Oscar Madison's place.

 

Dishes on every flat surface

 

Tools on the table and floor

 

 

 

Everything shoved out of the way for the layout work

 

Doors and tile all over

 

Well, since I didn't have any of my tile saws up here I decided to get started doing all I could without cutting anything or putting myself in a tough spot to get a tile under a door jamb when I go to put those pieces in.  I've done that before and it's a big mess and pain in the butt because those pieces have to slide under the cuts I make in the jambs so I've got to leave room to slide the tiles.  And this way I could get that critical layout work done as well as get the dishwasher out of the way.

 

I got a long way prior to going to Manteo for the weekend and coming back with a saw which I needed to use to get things finished under the dishwasher.  Once that was wrapped up and put back together I got to get all the dirty dishes out of the sink and cleaned up at last.

 

So here's where I am right now:

 

Kitchen Floor

 

Foyer Floor

 

Connecting the two in the Dining Area

 



And here's where the toilet is that started it all:

 

... sigh.

 

"It'll take about fifteen minutes."



Twizzlers

Bob -

I am sitting here eating Twizzlers and contemplating the last few weeks.  The bag says they are a low fat snack.   It also says the serving size is three and each serving is 120 calories with total fat at 0.5 grams.  I have a 12.4 ounce bag and there are supposedly 10 servings.  My question to the bag would be as follows...who the hell could just eat three Twizzlers?  I wouldn't even bother opening the bag to eat three.  In fact, I expended about 350 calories opening the bag and 500 walking into the Dollar Store to buy them.  That means I would be in calorie depletion mode just getting to the Twizzlers.  So,  10 servings is 1200 calories and that is about what I ate.  Plus, I'm a runner and an eater.  One reason I run is so I can eat, which gets me to the true point of this story.  Yesterday I did a half marathon.  The Philadelphia Rock and Roll Half Marathon.  I signed up for it a long time ago as part of my training program for the full marathon.  As I have complained many times before, I do not feel my training has gone that well.  I have bonked on many occasions on my long runs.  My running partners mock me and call me Sissy McBabypants because I cry a lot.  I now have that on my forehead.  It says, "Hi, my name is Sissy McBabypants, kick me."  I have a rather large forehead and I can fit lots of verbiage upon it.  It is not a thing I am real proud of, but it came in handy in the fifth grade play I was in.  The play was about Abraham Lincoln and the Gettysburg Address.  The person who played Lincoln could not remember the whole thing, so they had me play the role of a podium and they printed the whole think on my forehead.  It took hours and it hurt after awhile, but I think that pain readied me for the pain of training for the marathon.  I cried as I prepared to be a podium and I cry as prepare to run, but I still do it.  That is one thing that I have learned.  I can keep going through the pain.  Most of it.  Sometimes I quit, but I usually find a way to make up for it and cause myself pain.  Like riding a bike up a bunch of hills or running up and down stairs.  I truly feel that cross training plays a huge role in training to run.  Running long distance requires enduring some pain over long periods of time.  I feel beating the crap out of my legs in workouts other than running can really help my running.  Which may bring me back to my original point.  We ran 10 miles on Friday.  I could barely move on Saturday.  I did 1.5 miles and felt like I was going to die.  I seriously thought about not going to Philly.  Why drive an hour and a half to go feel like crap for 13.1 miles.  I can do that at home.  A good friend said, "you paid for it, you will be fine, you should just do it."  No pressure, but those words made sense and since there were other friends going there, I thought it could be fun.  But, I was not expecting much, just to finish and get a good workout.  I got up a four a.m. to drive down.  What started as a bit of dread turned out to be a good ride down.  Dark, no traffic, good music on the radio and just some alone time to be in my head.  Then I got to Philadelphia which is mostly a beautiful city.  The day was perfect.  There were thousands of people and bands playing and the aforementioned running friends.  I was still not expecting much and a bit nervous, like I always am before a race.  I have the same thoughts of not being able to finish, even though I have run these distances a bunch of times now.  When the race started I decided to go slow, or at least what I thought was slow.  I rarely look at my Garmin when I run.  I go at a pace my body allows.  I have gotten to the point where I can tell how much I can take and if I am going to burn out.  After a few miles, I noticed that I was passing many people, not many were passing me.  I felt so much better than I thought I would.  I looked at my watch and decided I was probably going a bit too fast and that maybe I couldn't keep it up for the whole time.  So, I backed off a bit and then found myself picking it up again.  At the 10k mark, my time showed that if I kept it up I could possibly get a pr.  I had to tell myself that I still had a long way to go, not to get carried away.  To run smart, which is not my strong point.  I kept feeling good.  I actually thought about picking it up more to bust out a great time, but I'm glad I didn't, because at mile 9 things started to hurt.  I took a GU at that point.  I always have to resist the urge to yell, "Guuuuuuuuuuuuuu!" at the person handing that stuff out.  I did that at a triathlon once and while I found it very funny, they apparently didn't.  I got blank stares and I think someone called 911.  There was a group of cheerleaders and someone with them dressed as Mickey Mouse.  I high fived Mickey.  Mickey and the GU gave me some energy and the next few miles were good.  Then, the last mile.  The longest mile ever!  It wouldn't end.  People are cheering and I knew the finish line was looming, but it never seemed to loom.  I felt a twinge in my calf and thought I was gonna cramp up.  Thoughts of being that poor guy that cramps up and crawls to the finish line were in my head.  Except in my case, I was sure that instead of being inspirational and worthy of a YouTube video, I would just crap and pee my pants and lay there in a disgusting heap while children cried at the sight.  Luckily, nothing happened.  I finally made it to the finish line and looked at my watch.  I not only made it to the finish, but I had a new pr.  I really and honestly could not believe it.  Overall, I felt good.  In all, I am just amazed at what hard work can do.  To make it 13.1 hard miles without my legs dying is something I would not have thought was possible a few years ago, maybe even a year ago.  As hard as running is, this is fun.  To see how your body can react to training and mileage.  I am intrigued to see what I can do.  How fast I can get at a somewhat advanced age.  I also can't believe that in a few weeks I am going to be going twice as far as I did yesterday.  I cannot wait to get to that finish line.  I hope I can.  Now, back to those Twizzlers.

Perspective

Bob -

I like to think that I don't complain too much.  I have normal aches and pains that someone my age typically would have, I have some aches and pains that come with my job and I have others that come with the running.  There are days when they are worse for whatever reason.  The funny thing is, that once I warm up and start running, they typically feel better.  I limp around a lot when I walk.  I can't jump for shit anymore.  I have only taken up "serious" running in the last 3 to 4 years.  I used to play tennis or basketball or racquetball to stay in shape.  Actually, it wasn't even to stay in shape.  It was because I loved to play these sports.  In my younger days, it was football and rugby and competitive track.  I loved the fact that I was quick and fast.  Age and my job started taking the speed and quickness away.  Actually, I will blame it mostly on my job.  Repetitive climbing and kneeling and lifting stuff for years, along with gaining weight, took a toll on my knees.  My left knee especially.  It would lock up.  While walking the dog, it would almost buckle if she pulled me too quickly.  I am not tall, but I loved to play basketball.  My shot was a fade away jumper.  I could get that shot over people.  When my knees started to give me trouble, that shot went away.  Playing with my teenage(at that time) sons was especially humiliating.  I would try to take that shot, get like an inch off the ground and they would just stuff me.  And then rub it in.  "You suck dad!", or something to that effect.  I took up running again around 2007.  I could barely run around the block but I wound up signing up for the New York Marathon with the Lance Armstrong Foundation.  The reason is a story for another day.  So many people told me that it would ruin my knees.  How many of us runners have been told that running is bad for our knees?  All of us?  I have been told that as I have been running.  Once I ran by a guy who was eating a giant hoagie and he told me how bad running was for me.  I wanted to tell him how bad standing around and eating a giant hoagie is for you.  For those of you in different parts of the country, a hoagie is a hero is a submarine sandwich.  Around these parts, it is a hoagie.  And he was eating one and telling me I was being unhealthy.  As I write this, I am thinking you all have a picture of how slow I am.  I am running by a guy and conversing about a hoagie.  I'm here to tell you that it was not actually a conversation.  He said it, I grunted and kept  moving on.  It just left an impact on me of how exercise is looked at by certain people.  At any rate, there were times that the knee did hurt, but I typically knew it would warm up over time.  I also knew that there were times I should just stop.  That is just was not a good day.  Over time, the pain went away.  The feelings of it locking up, clicking,  that it needed oil all went away.   This is my experience.  It may not be every one's, but my knee got better due to exercising and running more.  I still can't do the jump shot I used to be able to do or chase down a tennis ball the way I once could, but I can run.  And I can tell you it wasn't easy, it was painful at times, but it was so worth it.  Now for the perspective.  I was telling this to a new member of my running group a few years ago.  He was an intense guy.  Super nice, but intense.  Ironman Triathlons, Ultras and other pretty extreme stuff.  We were just talking and I was feeling kind of tough for overcoming some of the stuff that I had and he told me his sister died at age 30 of colon cancer.  That he had colon cancer a few years back.  That he almost died.  That he had a colostomy bag.  That he spent a year feeling sorry for himself and then realized that was bull crap.  I have had so many awesome runs with so many incredible people, but I will never forget that run and that conversation.