TACHYCARDIA

Just got out of the shower. A cold-er shower. Went running/jogging/walking again. Only 10 laps like the previous week. While I was at my hotel in RI last weekend I jumped on this sophisticated treadmill that measured all kinds of things like lap time, heart-rate, sweat flow-rate, digestion, percentage of ionized species, and IQ.

What concerned me was my maximum heart-rate. Actually, I'm really hoping that I didn't max-out the machine so that it was telling me its maximum value allowed as opposed to the accurate value of my beating heart. (Some may argue that my heart is not beating.) Anyway, I peaked at 195 bpm. I think this was off the chart on what I saw in that fitness room. Wow, am I really going to die? My resting heart-rate right out of the shower is now 90. Gah.

According to this web-site, a 27 year-old HR "Beginner" calculation should have the following:

Maximum HR: 193
Min Training HR: 115
Max Training HR: 154

Although when I enter values for their "Advanced" calculation (with resting HR of 90):

Maximum HR: 193
Min Training HR: 151
Max Training HR: 172

I guess this means that I was over-exerting myself? I swear this stuff is voodoo.

I think I'm slightly improving though. Also, I think I've lost weight in the past couple of months. I don't know exactly what to contribute this to, but I'm down to 198-lbs. For my height I should be around 175 according to our government. Although they thought Iraq had weapons of mass destruction, so I don't know what number to believe.

PLYMOUTH CROCK

I drive about 1 hour to the east today into Massachusetts to the historic ville of Plymouth. Let me just say that The Plymouth Rock is one of the most over-dramaticized objects in the world. It's a gray stone perhaps 5ft in diameter (measurement is a bit hard to tell for many reasons both physical and psychological) that is housed in a little fenced-off area with a columned structure protecting it from the elements. Honestly, the rock which marks Jack London's resting place in Sonoma makes The Plymouth Rock look like a pebble. What the hell am I doing here? It's obvious I need to go home if I'm driving around looking at rocks.

SCROD!!!

This is kinda-sorta a continuation of yesterday's blog entry. I'm finding that there really isn't much here in R.I. except seafood. Today I drove from the north edge of the state, Woonsocket, all the way to the southern county and ocean edge, Wakefield. I have to say that it's a pretty boring and brief drive. Took about 45min and the only memorable parts of the cruise were the sloped/shaved rock that the freeway is carved through and the fact that people don't know how to stay in their lanes. Seriously, R.I. drivers use the lane separators as car-centering guides.

After work we ate a late lunch. We, meaning myself and a representative of the client I'm working with. We ate at this place in East Manwocketshiretonspoonlikhatchee or something. I honestly don't remember the name of the town, because it wasn't even a town, but the restaurant's name was Capt'n Jack's. In the great words of Billy Joel, "Captain Jack will get you high tonight." These words are true if he meant high in cholesterol. Basically Capt'n's is a house of all things local fried. Except for the chowdah. I had clam cakes, which are like unsweetened donuts with strips of clam randomly embedded in the dough, some clam chowdah, and some fish 'n chips that included a gigantic filet of 'scrod'. Scrod being the generic white fish that people in New England enjoy regularly. It's flavorless really, which is why they serve it fish 'n chips style where the batter outweighs the meat by a factor of 10:1. I could only eat about half and left a giant heap of soggy breading material on my plate with about 90% of the fries. I did eat the 'slaw' though. Nice to have some veggies besides the potato in the chowdah.

So I was thinking that a genius marketing idea would be to open a micro-brewery somewhere over here and have a brew called the Boston Lobster Chowder Lager. Reason being that it would be pronounced Bahstan Lahbsta Chowdah Laga. I would enjoy those commercials.

Today I received a comment of, "Ya ahnt fram 'rahnd here ah ya?"

LOBSTA ANYONE?

That's right, I'm in New England right now. Specifically I'm in The State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations. I'm not kidding, that's the official state name! Somebody was being ridiculous.

Plenty of lobsta ta go 'round. Tonight I had some in my risotto. Entire claws taken out of their shell and draped across the top. I was too full to finish it all even though it was the only meal I ate all day. Aside from that, the state's fauna is lush and the weather is pleasant.

Sunday I probably won't have to work much, if at all, and so I was trying to figure out what to do. After looking up Quahog (from The Family Guy fame) and discovering that it's an entirely fictional town, I immediately lowered my expectations. There are real towns with real interesting names though. Such as Woonsocket, where I was today, and of course Pawtucket, etc.

So, it looks like my plans right now call for eating more seafood. Some chowda maybe. I do like seafood.

ONLY WHEN CHASED

From Real Genius:
Professor Hathaway: You still run?
Chris Knight : Only when chased.

Ah yes, so I started running again. Today, June 12th, for no reason other than to build my self-confidence and improve my body image. I have nil endurance right now and my cholesterol is high (or at least it was last time I was tested). I figure that I'd better start getting some cardio done during any free-time that I have or I'm going to die of heart disease, if I don't die from something else first. Might as well cover all of my bases the best I can.

This new hobby, or at least I hope it to become one, has inspired me to shop for a heart-rate monitor. Perhaps a Polar? I don't even know the model numbers but I do love to shop at REI so this will be more fun than shoe shopping at Macy's, which if you don't know me, is one of the most miserable experiences in my life. Hate the shoe shopping. Although I have had good experiences with the right person by my side.

I could try to do a lap-by-lap breakdown of my run, but I'd have to split it into a 1/2-lap breakdown since that was the smallest unit, and not a lap:

Lap 0-1: Run! - Not too shabby.
Lap 1-2: Run - Painful body aches.
Lap 2-2.5: Walk - Heart-rate still probably maxed-out.
Lap 2.5-3.5: Run - Blah.
Lap 3.5-4.0: Walk - Until Ipod track changed.
Lap 4.0-4.5: Run - Half-lap made me taste blood.
Lap 4.5-5.0: Walk - Felt pretty good actually.
Lap 5.0-5.5: Run - Teeth hurt now.
Lap 5.5-6.0: Walk - The break in running prevented me from vomiting.
Lap 6.0-7.0: Run - Had to keep pace with the hot girl who was wearing the same color scheme as myself.
Lap 7.0-7.5: Walk - She hasn't lapped me yet. Red shorts, white shirt.
Lap 7.5-8.0: Run - Another half-lap and I passed her because she's taking breaks like I am.
Lap 8.0-8.5: Walk - I do like this walking.
Lap 8.5-9.5: Run - This stint almost became the death of me. But ending it felt so good.
Lap 9.5-10: Walk - Cool-off and celebrate. Fists pumped into air, people staring strangely.

Then I had some stadium steps to climb up and had to take another cool-off around the parking lot. But overall this experience was a success. I hope I can keep the motivation.

QUESTIONS ARE unIMPORTANT

-Outside of my hotel there is a handicapped parking sign. Apparently there is a fine of $50 to $300 for illegal parking in this spot. So I'm wondering, what determines the amount that they fine you? Is it based on duration? How large your vehicle is? Perhaps if you just have one wheel over the line you get a minimal charge? Maybe if you have a broken leg and claim a false-handicap they fine you even more for being an unethical bastard? Stew on that.

-Why do they pronounce St. Louis, "Saynt Loo-is"? Shouldn't they be using the French form? I think the same problem comes around when discussing Nee-yu Or-leens. Make up your minds people. Montpelier? San Leandro? Taft?

-There are California Pizza Kitchen restaurants in many states in the US. How can you have a California Pizza Kitchen in Missouri? MPK or MouPK so as not to confuse it with Montana Pizza Kitchen. I mean the kitchen really doesn't travel people.

-Coffee is getting smaller. Now in hotel rooms they have these little "pod" style coffee machines. The coffee is still terrible and is most likely recycled tobacco ash and sawdust, but there was all this equipment upgraded in hotels so as to make a single cup instead of a 4-cup pot. I say boycott this crap nevertheless. I see the trend coming to the pods being filled with sugar and the sugar packets filled with coffee.