PenteKing’s BodyBlog

Today is the 234th birthday of the United States Marine Corps. First founded in a tavern (figures, eh?) in downtown Philadelphia, the U.S. Marines are the oldest, and longest-lasting, branch of the military. I am a proud Marine veteran who served eight years under the emblem of the eagle, globe and anchor. I served as a door gunner on a CH-46 helicopter operating out of Marble Mountain, DaNang during the Vietnam War, and was lucky enough to return home physically unharmed. (The psychological damage…well, that’s another story). Yet, despite the trauma and the boot camp, and the endless drilling and hours spent on the obstacle course and the rifle range, I look back on my years of service with pride and wonder. I was (and still am in many ways) a United States Marine, a member of the finest fighting force this world has ever known. So, here’s a birthday wish to all my Marine brothers and sisters. Semper Fi; do or die. The few; the proud; the Marines.

We Marines have a saying about our emblem. The Navy gaves us the anchor, the Air Force gave us the eagle, but we took the world.

From the halls of Montezuma, to the shores of Tripoli, we will fight our Nation’s battles, in the air, on land and sea. First to fight for right and freedom; next to keep our honor clean. We are proud to claim the title of United States Marine.

In my last post, I lamented the fact that the elapsed time between entries has grown longer and longer. I also vowed to do better. Obviously, I have not adhered to my promise. Why not? Well, for one thing, the job hunting process is diverting a LOT of my time and attention. It’s been said before, but it bears repeating, "Looking for a job is harder work than actually working." Why is this so? You have to be "on" ALL the time. When you’re out there selling yourself, you can’t afford to have any bad days. You can’t dress a little more informally; you can’t be too tired to engage in idle chit-chat; you can’t not smile; you can’t grouse and complain when people don’t return your phone calls and emails. You can’t do any of those things because unless you’re confining your complaining to your family, you never know whether what you’re saying will get around to the wrong person. In this environment (hell, in any environment), it seems that the degree of separation grows continually smaller. It used to be six degrees. I read yesterday that the separation number is now reduced to four. Word travels faster today than it did even five short years ago. And once it hits the Internet, it NEVER dies. A careless remark, made in the heat of the moment, can come back to bite you in the butt years down the road. It’s a scary thought. So one has to be upbeat, pleasant, and engaged at all times, and that is TIRING work. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.

I’m still working out; still training for my upcoming triathlon, so in that respect, I’m good. I’m just not as consistent about visiting this site and updating my blog and visiting with my bodybuilding brothers and sisters. I’m not certain my absence has been missed, but just in case it has, my heartfelt apologies to one and all. I will try (notice that this time, I did not say ‘promise’) to do better. Given my circumstances, that is all I can do at the moment.

Keep lifting the heavy iron. It’s good for the muscles and it’s good for the soul.

For someone accustomed to writing every day (in one form or another), it shocks me to realize that I haven’t posted a thing to either one of my two blogs for nearly three weeks. This must mean that I am either: a) extraordinarily busy; or b) depressed beyond all human reckoning. If honesty counts for anything, I must confess that the second option is the primary culprit.

Yes, of course I’ve been busy. Moving across country; getting re-settled; attending to all the little connections that make up one’s life (and trust me, there are MANY), these have kept my mind occupied, but depression has played a major part in my silence. Today marks the sixth (!) month that I’ve been unemployed. I know the economy is doing badly; I know that more than 15 million people have lost their jobs; I know things are tough. But those are all intellectual observations. They have little connection to the emotional side of being unemployed. MEN HAVE TO WORK! Our entire self-worth is wrapped up in how we earn our crust. Even the lowliest of occupations has worth and meaning to the person performing the duties and responsibilities associated with that job. For better or worse, it defines us as human beings. We are a species that was meant to strive, to achieve, to build and sustain something larger than ourselves. Being removed from that isolates us. It marks us in ways that we can barely acknowledge, much less articulate. It is the reason why so many unemployed men take to drink or drugs. We are attempting to blot out the pain of facing our failure.

The fact that I’m writing this is - believe it or not - a good sign. When I am depressed, I don’t write at all. When I’m happy, I write about depressing things - probably as a way of expelling the residue of those painful and debilitating emotions. Taking that into account, one would infer that I am happy, and I am gratified to report that I am. I cannot say for certainity why this is so. I only know that I am. I have confidence that I will find work. I am energized and ready to throw myself back into the fray. I’m lifting weights regularly; I’m riding my bike; I’m trying to become a better swimmer. My discipline - lax for lo these many weeks - is back with a vengenace. I can’t point to any one occurrence that has caused this turnabout, nor do I think I want to. I only know that I have weathered a dark and stormy time in my soul. I’ve survived and am ready to continue my journey.

Wish me luck.

It has been more than two weeks since my last blog. During that time, I have procured a new apartment, sold off a bunch of stuff that I no longer needed nor wanted, packed up all my cares and woes, and moved from one coast (the West) to the other (the East). I’m still not fully settled in my new digs, but I am now living in the people’s republic of Cambridge, Massachusetts, home to both MIT and Harvard. I’ve signed a one-year lease, so for the next twelve months, this is where I will be. I have high hopes that the move back to my Eastern roots will prove both beneficial and salubrious.

Rather than fly, I decided to drive cross-country. The route took me from San Diego to Yuma; from Yuma to Flagstaff; from Flagstaff to Santa Fe; from Santa Fe to Denver; from Denver to Lincoln; from Lincoln to Cedar Rapids; from Cedar Rapids to Chicago; from Chicago to Toledo; from Toledo to Cleveland; from Cleveland to Erie; from Erie to Albany; and then from Albany to Boston. I drove steadily, but without haste because I had no job waiting for me at the journey’s destination. I hope to find gainful employment in the Boston area (where the economy seems marginally better than in other parts of the country), but I have no expectation that finding said job will be an easy task. Hundreds of thousands of people are out of work, and we are all looking at the same small pool.

I will write in more detail about my trip, but wanted to share some high-level observations. We grow an awful lot of corn in this country. Never have I seen a more abundant crop. It was like kudzu - growing everywhere, seemingly without requiring the aid of any farmer to plant or tend the crop. It is no wonder so many products contain high fructose corn syrup. If not for that, the country would be buried under an avalanche of unhusked ears of corn. It was truly an impressing and mind-staggering sight.

Iowa has the cleanest highway facilities in the nation. They are models that the other states should emulate. Not only was free Wi-Fi offered at every rest stop (!), but the vending machines offered choices that did NOT include Coca-Cola or Pepsi. I was stunned to discover that I could actually purchase fruit juice (albeit from concentrate) during my sojourn through Iowa. Kudos to the state for its efforts in that regard.

In Lincoln, NE, I discovered the two pound (!!!) King Kong burger. That’s right - you read that correctly. It is 32 ounces of beef captured between two highly processed hamburger buns. The whole conconction is slathered with lettuce, pickles, ketchup and mustard, and is served with an obscenely large order of French Fries. All this for the low, low price of $4.95. May God have mercy on everyone who chows down on this monstrosity.

Chicago was its usual bustling, energetic self. I spent the day at the Art Institute, and was dismayed that I had only a few hours in which to peruse its treasures. It would take a dedicated individual at least three weeks to see all the treasures housed within its walls, and I have a solemn promise to myself to return when I have more time to spend there.

 All in all, the trip was an adventure. We live in a big, beautiful country. Driving across it has given me a new appreciation of all that I have to be thankful for. We may have our problems, but there’s nothing that can’t be resolved if we put our minds to the task.

 I’ll write more later. Until then, keep lifting the heavy iron, my brothers and sisters.

Those of you who read my blog know that I have a fantastic training partner. Here name is Julie, and I’d like to take this opportunity of publicly proclaiming my belief that she is the BEST training partner anyone could ever hope for. She loves biking as much as I do, and is willing (nay, enthusiastic) about accompanying me on some of my wilder jaunts around San Diego, including my trip from downtown to Oceanside and back. She was my partner during the 156 miles MS Bay-to-Bay bike ride, and was alongside me during the century ride to benefit the American Diabetes Association. She has done a double century (200 miles in one day!) and is planning on doing the 175 mile San Francisco to Napa Valley ride to benefit MS. We rode together today for what will in all likelihood be our final ride together. The movers are coming tomorrow, and as soon as the moving truck is loaded, I’m heading out. Julie promises to get up to Boston, but I don’t hold out hope. It’s not that I don’t believe her. I do. Her intentions are pure, and I know that if there is a way for her to get to Boston, she will do so. But I’m also pragmatic enough to know that getting to Boston is not high on her priority list. She’s attending school, has a full-time job, and is trying to start a new relationship. Those are all laudable goals, and I don’t begrudge her her goals one tiny bit. If she does make it to Boston, I will be the first one to welcome her with open arms. Until that happens, let me say this - Julie; I love you. Of all the people that I’ve met here in San Diego, I will miss you the most. Good health and good fortune, my friend. You will always have a place in my head and in my heart. 

Okay; it’s official. I am permanently leaving san Diego in less than three weeks. After five years, it’s time to move on. Many of you will probably consider me crazy for abandoning San Diego’s fantastic weather. In this, I must agree with you. However, that being said, I must also add that there is more to an area than an average mean temperature of seventy degrees.

I am returning to Massachusetts, to live in the Republic of Cambridge. I’ve found an apartment near MIT and just across the river from downtown Boston. I hope to find gainful employment with one of the area’s employers. I believe it will be easier to find work in Massachusetts than here in San Diego. At least that is my hope. I have a whole coterie of people who are willing to help me find work. (I did, after all, live in Boston for more than 25 years.) My new apartment has a gym, along with a lap pool, so I’ll be able to continue my triathlon training. Adjusting to the weather won’t be easy (I HATE the cold), but as I said, there’s more to a city than an average mean temperature of 70 degrees. Wish me luck.

I’m looking to replace FitDay. While it has proven useful in the past, I find that I’m moving past it. I think I need something more.

I found a website that considers DietMaster 2100 to be the best of all the programs reviewed, with NutriNote a close second. Does anyone have any experience with either of these programs? If so, drop me a line and let me know what you think.

I achieved a new personal best today. I swam 560 yards. I can’t begin to tell you how psyched I am about this achievement. I mean, we’re talking about a guy who could barely make it 50 feet without laboring like a beached whale. Today, I went 560 yards. Granted, this isn’t even close to what I need to do in order to compete in October’s Triathlon, but it’s a huge leap forward. I actually felt like a swimmer today. There was very little thrashing about, and even on those occasions when I temporarily lost my rhythm and swallowed some water, I didn’t panic. Instead, I concentrated on what my instructor told me. I slowed down, rolled to one side, cleared my mouth, took in a new breath of air, and kept going.

Man, I feel like a kid on Christmas morning. I’m so happy, I could bust.

Okay, it’s now been officially four days since the start of my routine/attitude (whoa! hold the presses! Four whole days!) and I’m here to report that so far, I’ve adhered to my promised activities. My diet has been super clean. I’m eating only fresh, unprocessed food, and have eliminated bread, pasta and wheat from my meals. I’m substituting brown rice, barley and quiona (which doesn’t taste half bad, if the truth must be told). I’m lifting religiously and so far this month, have been in the water 3 out of the 4 days. I’m gradually getting more and more comfortable in the water. Of course, it helps knowing that at any time all I have to do is stand up and I’m out of danger, but still…For me, this is huge. I mean, we’re talking about a man who has never learned to swim. Even though I live in San Diego, I visit the beach maybe three time a year, and when I do, I play volleyball or lay in the sun, working on my tan.

I haven’t weighed myself yet. I plan to weigh myself every Friday morning, immediately upon waking. If I weigh myself any more frequently than that, I’ll become obsessed about my progress (or lack thereof) and lose focus on what I’m trying to accomplish. Sooooo, as the old saying goes, "So far; so good."

To snap myself out of this funk that I’ve been in for the past week and a half, I’ve decided to mix things up a bit. I have made a personal commitment to myself to lose approximately 10 pounds this month. I’ve been struggling to get below the 200 pound mark for about a year now, and it hit me that the only thing standing in the way of my achieving my goal is ME! In the timeless words of Strother Martin in the film, Cool Hand Luke, "I haven’t got my mind right." I’ve been eating pretty clean, but I can do better. I’ve been exercising pretty hard, but I can do better. I can. I will. As of today, there are no ‘ifs’, ‘ands’ or ‘buts’. No excuses will suffice. I will not cut myself any slack. None. Today is a new day. My mind is right. Let’s get it done.