About This Blog

As time permits, in-depth musings on myriad subjects will be posted. Abbreviated adages will be announced via Twitter.

Sunday, June 29, 2014


We like to think of wicked as being something far away or otherwise distanced from ourselves and our lives. But wickedness comes down to what we do between breakfast and bedtime.

The above is a gross botching of a couple of lines from either Wicked or Son of a Witch, both by Gregory Maguire. It's been a while since I've read either, though I hope to remedy that in the very near future. Something else I hope to will remedy in the near future is being wicked.

In 2011, I finished my second Ironman race, shaving almost an hour off of what I had done two years prior. The day after, my wife & I learned that we were pregnant, and we were beginning a whole new chapter in & definition of endurance.

The combination of having a newborn, finishing graduate school, and working took a heavy toll on exercise. Additionally, given increased levels of stress from the aforementioned factors—and with no exercise with which to combat said stress—my diet suffered. I began consuming increasing volumes of junk food (Reese's peanut butter cups are were at the top of the list), losing sleep and gaining weight.

Three years later, the trend has somewhat slowed, but I still—in my opinion—take in too much junk food (Nestle's new Butterfinger peanut butter cups have not helped matters any) and have not made as wise of choices as someone of my age and education should. In short, I have grown wicked. And I need to stop.

Cold turkey is not a likely option, given its repeated failures in recent times. Rather, as with any race prep, it will need to be tapered. Making more conscious decisions about what I put into my body, I know, will allow me to get more (positivity) out of myself, physically and mentally.

Thanks for reading.

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