All About the Nuts

I should probably change the title of this blog to Shut Up and Rehab, (thanks, Rick!), but whatever. Yesterday I was in the pool running for 53 minutes (not that I’m counting minutes). Today the bike trainer and I had a date for 62 minutes. I’ll top it off with 60 minutes of yoga tonight. After a village of massage therapists, physical therapists, yogis, doctors and blog encouragers, the hip is feeling a bit looser. Progress!

I also got a free Starbucks for waiting in line so long, a dollar off at the wine store for knowing the cashier and a boatload of Athleta stuff in the mail. Life could be worse. Way worse:

(the design to the right is what’s on the jacket)

Moving on. I noticed a theme going on around here. If you don’t remember what a theme is from high school English class you’re a moron - a theme in literary terms is, “an implicit or recurrent idea.”

The implicit or recurrent idea I am facing this week is nuts. If you prefer, you can say balls, but no teabags allowed here.

Nut #1:

I struggle with breakfast. Nothing ever seems to satisfy. Eggs give me the runs. I get looked down on if I eat donuts. Oatmeal is just that – oatmeal. And don’t get me started on toast. I finally found my new favorite breakfast, and it is this:

I know. They are so 70s. Grape Nuts have been around since I was a fetus. I’m pretty sure they were served on the Mayflower. That was the best joke ever.

I can’t eat just an ordinary bowl of Grape Nuts because it hurts my jaw. Way too much crunching going on, and certainly not a grab-and-go kind of thing. Ever tried to eat a bowl of Grape Nuts quickly? It’s impossible. My solution has been to warm up my nuts.

1/2 cup Grape Nuts
1/3 cup milk
1 t brown sugar

Put into a bowl and microwave for 1 minute. You get nice, soft, warm nuts. That’s what she said.

Nut #2:

My brother is coming to town next weekend from D.C. My nephews are determined that we will all go out for Rocky Mountain Oysters. I have no problem with that. I love a good entrée of deep fried bull testicles. You could deep fry a dog wiener and it would taste good too.

Nut #3:

This week it was Ken’s birthday. He turned 21 (plus 24).

He doesn’t ask for much, so when he mentions an item he might want, I pay attention.

This month Runner’s World reviewed some classy underwear - the Men's O Series BoxerJock® 3" Bottoms by Under Armour.  Ken said he wanted some pairs. I know not why these are called the “O” series, but if the “O” refers to that kind of “O” then these should be selling like hotcakes. Guaranteed “O” with purchase. (Ken loves these by the way. That’s my review).

In trying to find these babies, I did the logical thing and went to the Under Armour website. That’s when things got a bit pornographic. Nuts/package galore:

Hello supersize! I mean, seriously? What crawled in there, a softball?  A rocky mountain oyster or two? And who modeled for this? (keep the Kovas jokes to yourself).

My questions for you. Please answer all or none:

1. Ever had Rocky Mountain oysters? What types of testicles were they? Prairie dog, sheep, bull, Under Armour?
2. Do you use a specific workout when you’re on the trainer?
3. What’s your go-to favorite breakfast food?

Going nuts,

SUAR

Bathroom Tip Jar

Yesterday's run started off well enough. I was in my bright green Under Armour, looking like a young gay boy. The fog had lifted (not my hangover fog, but the literal fog covering Longmont yesterday). The air was a crisp 29 degrees and I was listening to Shots and Barry Manilow something cool in my ear.

It was about mile one where I got the cramp. Not a runner's muscle cramp, but an intestinal contraction. This is a very familiar feeling for me. Unfortunately this contraction foreshadows a cleansing of my lower intestines (aka big messy dump). At mile two I started wondering if I should make a pit stop at the general store at my half way mark (mile three). These cramps are tricky. One moment they are upon you with such a vengeance you fear you'll be Jeff Daniels in Dumb and Dumber and the next moment you're thinking, "No big deal. I can make another ten miles without so much as a fart."

As I near the general store, I knew I should seize the moment. I always feel badly about going into places and dropping a big one and not even buying a piece of gum. This particular store is in the small town of Hygiene (ironic, eh?). It is a cyclist's haven being the jumping off point to many popular scenic and long rides. I know this store gets lots of bathroom activity. I'm sure they're sick of it. But when the urgency is at the door and it's either that or contaminate my new running capris, I know what I need to do.

I walk in the store, and no one is there. Score! I notice something I have never seen before. There is a glass jar outside of the bathroom with a sign on it that says, "Bathroom tip jar." This means one of two things:

1. So many people come in here and use the facilities and don't buy anything, so their contribution is a little monetary tip, or
2. So many people come in here and take massive dumps and ruin the sewer system and use so much toilet paper that even if you buy a case of Gatorade each time you visit, it doesn't offset the cost of running the lavatory.

All I know is I couldn't be bothered with those details at that moment. Something was honking for the right of way. I did my business, it never takes very long, and headed out. The cashier was back by then. She was sweet, just gave me a look and said, "So how are YOU today?" As if she was looking for some major disclosure. So I said, "I'm FINE. I just took a ginormous dump and I don't have any money on me but I'm planning on making a non-cash donation in the way of air freshener and Charmin next time I'm in these parts to make up for what I did in there." Well, I didn't say that, but I felt I should have. Some day I will walk into that store and put a 20 spot in that jar just to compensate for my actions on February 1, 2010.

The next three miles home sucked. The cramps got so bad at one point I yelped out loud. I thought I should wear a bumper sticker that says, "I run so fast because I have to poop." I made it home in one piece and only had some mild clean up to do of the under garments in the shower. No one would have been the wiser if it wasn't for the panties hanging on the bathroom door to dry.

How was your run today? Don't lie if you messed yourself. It's okay we all do it.

Drinking: Starbucks Verona coffee