<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32040762</id><updated>2011-12-14T21:12:03.241-06:00</updated><title type='text'>differentbeat</title><subtitle type='html'>The penguins made me do it.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Wallace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15352688468434417854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>19</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32040762.post-626601029845477681</id><published>2008-12-11T08:23:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T13:53:27.400-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Dedicated Follower</title><content type='html'>My desire to blog has come and gone many times over the years. I have been in a down turn in that cycle for about a year and a half now. I barely even remembered that this place existed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twitter has changed that for me. I use twitter constantly now, and find myself wanting more at times. 140 characters only goes so far. In light of that, I'm going to give this place a little more attention. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Google Analytics tells me that I have a visitor that stops by everyday. Someone in the Kearney Nebraska region. After dedication like that, I thought she deserved a special shout-out. So here you go:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey Liza. Good thing I have the Flickr and Twitter updaters in the toolbar, huh? Otherwise, this would have been painful. Here's to more content!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32040762-626601029845477681?l=differentbeat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/feeds/626601029845477681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32040762&amp;postID=626601029845477681&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/626601029845477681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/626601029845477681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-didicated-follower.html' title='My Dedicated Follower'/><author><name>Wallace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15352688468434417854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32040762.post-899030385967240930</id><published>2007-06-05T18:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T00:58:23.998-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice Surprise</title><content type='html'>I love my iPod. I use it every chance that I get. I really want to get into more podcasts, but for now my audio bible and music supply keeps me happy. This, however, is not a post about my iPod specifically. This post is about the audio devices that I have used with my iPod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started off using the earbuds that were supplied with the iPod. Bad decision. The reviews are right, the iPod is the premier mp3 player, but the buds are second rate at best. I purchased a decent pair that crapped out fast, and I have been bouncing between spare stuff that is laying around the house ever since... until this last week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While shuffling through Wal-mart I decided to grab a simple pair of earbuds to use to knock down on the wind noise while riding my bike. It was an impulse buy. I wanted a par now, and I didn't want to shop around. What's the danger in dropping down $20 on a pair of earbuds to get my by until I put the time into a decent pair? There are 6 other people in this house, someone is going to use them. Anyway, I grabbed a pair of  &lt;a href="http://www.jvc.com/product.jsp?modelId=MODL027848&amp;pathId=110&amp;page=1"&gt;JVC earbuds&lt;/a&gt; because they fit the bill. No planning, research, or thought behind it. The tag matched my pocket, and the buds fit my ears. I have never had an impulse buy work out so well in the past. I love them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vj6Y0aVyr_o/RmX0-9c4vII/AAAAAAAAAA8/n4e6V1gUZic/s1600-h/Picture+1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vj6Y0aVyr_o/RmX0-9c4vII/AAAAAAAAAA8/n4e6V1gUZic/s200/Picture+1.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072729917787520130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They are comfortable. They knock out almost all ambient noise. Most importantly, the sound quality is 4x better than the buds apple sent with my iPod. I know that there are a ton of high quality buds out there that would blow these away. For those of you out there like me, that destroy earbuds like toys, have a ton of kids that get their hand on everything, and don;t want to sink $200 on high quality earbuds for a $350 iPod. Give these a try. They are cheap, so you won't cry when they break or end up in the toilet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32040762-899030385967240930?l=differentbeat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/feeds/899030385967240930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32040762&amp;postID=899030385967240930&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/899030385967240930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/899030385967240930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/2007/06/nice-surprise.html' title='Nice Surprise'/><author><name>Wallace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15352688468434417854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vj6Y0aVyr_o/RmX0-9c4vII/AAAAAAAAAA8/n4e6V1gUZic/s72-c/Picture+1.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32040762.post-9156819151670484135</id><published>2007-05-15T09:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T00:58:24.121-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Open Letter to the Guy in the Blue Taurus.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vj6Y0aVyr_o/RknGkPFxyjI/AAAAAAAAAA0/7-qsKIPoEC0/s1600-h/turtlesnail.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vj6Y0aVyr_o/RknGkPFxyjI/AAAAAAAAAA0/7-qsKIPoEC0/s200/turtlesnail.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064797581783190066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to start off by taking a moment and saying Congratulations! I know that it was not easy, and that it probably took years of preparation. World Records are not easy to obtain, but you did it! So, tell me, how does it feel to be the newly crowned "Worlds Slowest Driver"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew that you were special when I first met you on the road many months ago. I did not realize your full potential, however, until that famous morning when I watched a &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;tractor&lt;/span&gt; pass you. Nothing says "Worlds Slowest Driver" like being passed by farm implements. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that the pleasantries are out of the way we can get down to the real reason for my letter. I am sure that you are quite proud of your accomplishment, but you need to stop rubbing it in. You're getting a little cocky. We all know that you're the record holder, you can stop rubbing our noses in it. Every morning you are crusing down the road flaunting your title for all the world to see. We get it. You're 'Da Man'. It's time to move on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't see MJ shoving his 6 rings in everyones face. Joe Montana doesn't have a billboard outside of his house that reads "I'm a SuperBowl Winner". You don't see that tiny oriental guy that eats all of those hotdogs wearing a shirt that says "I'm the tiny oriental guy that eats all of the hotdogs!". They are winners and they know it. They don't have to remind everybody every morning. Every. Single. Morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32040762-9156819151670484135?l=differentbeat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/feeds/9156819151670484135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32040762&amp;postID=9156819151670484135&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/9156819151670484135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/9156819151670484135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/2007/05/open-letter-to-guy-in-blue-taurus.html' title='Open Letter to the Guy in the Blue Taurus.'/><author><name>Wallace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15352688468434417854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vj6Y0aVyr_o/RknGkPFxyjI/AAAAAAAAAA0/7-qsKIPoEC0/s72-c/turtlesnail.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32040762.post-5216514430496979935</id><published>2007-04-11T22:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T22:09:05.167-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I wonder....</title><content type='html'>Why aren't there more fruit drinks featuring the yummylicious cantaloupe? We are going to have to talk with someone about this...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32040762-5216514430496979935?l=differentbeat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/feeds/5216514430496979935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32040762&amp;postID=5216514430496979935&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/5216514430496979935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/5216514430496979935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-wonder.html' title='I wonder....'/><author><name>Wallace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15352688468434417854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32040762.post-115720805749215925</id><published>2006-09-02T09:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-02T09:40:57.506-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Long-time-no-see</title><content type='html'>Sorry for the silence lately. Things have been quite busy. As I am sure you remember, I had a really bad cold. It’s still not totally gone yet, but it’s getting there. On top of all of that, I had 2 job offers materialize out of thin air within a few days of each other. Both looked good, but one required relocation, which the family was not excited about. Anyway, it all worked out for the best, and I accepted one of them. I am starting my second week of my 2-weeks-notice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work has been nuts. The moment I turned my notice in they locked me in the training room and have been parading people through for me to train. They have always known that there were a lot of things that only I knew how to do, and despite my repeated warnings and offers to train they never cared… until now. I even had them ask if I would continue to wear my business cell phone for a few months after I leave. Of course, I had to decline. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does all of this have to do with my weight-loss routine? Quite a bit, actually. I had lost a total of 7 pounds before all of this started a week and a half ago. I have put one of those back on. Bummer. I have been burnt out from work because of the constant attack of meetings and stuff all week. Final budgets are due at the end of September, and they want me to have them as close to done as possible before I leave. My evenings have been spent doing the normal things, but my mind has been preoccupied with the things that I am going to have to do at the new job. Couple that with the cold snap and I totally derailed my exercise routine. Not exercising alone isn’t the worse things in the world. You can actually lose weight by diet alone. That went out the window because I haven’t been sleeping again. When stuff like this goes on, my body just won’t let me sleep. I go to bed about 11 or 12 at night, and I get up at about 2 for about an hour, then again at 6 for work. The whole time I am in bed I toss and turn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that said, I still exceeded my weight loss goal for the first month. I was targeting 4 pounds, and I lost 6. Cool. Now I need to get it all going again. Actually, if it were not for the cold, I am sure that the bike rides would have helped me clear my head during all of this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32040762-115720805749215925?l=differentbeat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/feeds/115720805749215925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32040762&amp;postID=115720805749215925&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115720805749215925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115720805749215925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/2006/09/long-time-no-see.html' title='Long-time-no-see'/><author><name>Wallace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15352688468434417854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32040762.post-115617715419315713</id><published>2006-08-21T11:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-21T11:19:14.203-05:00</updated><title type='text'>*sniff*sniff*</title><content type='html'>No exercise at all for 2 days now. I have a cold of sorts that's making my head feel like it’s going to explode. I have some amazing sinus pressure going on. I broke my nose a few times when I was younger and never had it set properly, so whenever I get a cold it makes my eyes feel like they are going to explode and my brain run out of my eye sockets. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really stressed the first few weeks about not wanting to miss any days. No matter how hard you try, life throws things at you that just get in the way. Sometimes it’s just a busy day and you can’t make the time, sometimes it’s a cold. I have had both slow me down now. There is something to be said for rest days though. I have noticed on several occasions that I am able to ride with a renewed vigor after a day off. I have wanted to start a schedule and do specific exercises on specific days, and even plan in the rest days. The problem is that I have to adjust what I do based on what is going on that day. Plans change constantly, and so does the exercise routine. The good news is that I don’t feel bad about taking a rest day. I have seen some progress in my weight loss, and I have seen the benefit to resting your muscles. I initially turned my nose up at all the articles that said you need to take rest days every 3 or 4 days. I thought that I would get out of the flow and not start up again. I trust myself a bit more now. I want to stay aggressive though. I want to beat the 10 month deadline. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I might load up on some Sudafed and Tylenol and try to ride again today.  I feel marginally better, and I don’t want to sit around for too long waiting for this to pass. I’ll just have to stuff a few tissues into my pockets before I leave.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32040762-115617715419315713?l=differentbeat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/feeds/115617715419315713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32040762&amp;postID=115617715419315713&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115617715419315713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115617715419315713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/2006/08/sniffsniff.html' title='*sniff*sniff*'/><author><name>Wallace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15352688468434417854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32040762.post-115586980969047697</id><published>2006-08-17T21:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-19T20:44:57.643-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Motivation</title><content type='html'>There are a lot of familiar faces on my bike rides at night. Though the crowd is always changing, there are a few people that I see almost every day. People of all ages and sizes. All sweaty. All making strange faces. There is one man in particular that has caught my attention over the last few weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trail around Kearney is more than 10 miles from one end to the other. I have seen this man on every inch of the trail, sometimes coming, sometimes going. He caught my attention because, although not obvious at first, he is clearly in his 60's. He is never riding at high speeds, just a methodical ride with his legs pumping at a cardio pace. This guy is 'rip' too. He is obviously in great shape. One day, when I noticed him about a quarter of a mile ahead, I slowed to his pace and shifted into the lower gears to match his cadence. It was very low resistance, very heart-pounding, and obviously for guys with a longer attention span and greater focus. I like speed, and that style is obviously not about speed.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5719/3494/1600/151445_cycling.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5719/3494/320/151445_cycling.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I have been inspired, and a lot humbled, to see a guy of 'his age' in such great shape out pounding the pavement day after day. He fills an image in my mind that I have tried to hold on to for the last few weeks. This exercise routine, and healthy lifestyle, are a necessity for me. If I wish to make it to his age successfully, I have to do exactly what he is doing. It has been almost poetic for me to see him day after day. Inspiring and motivating don't quite cover it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I decided to ride the trail until it ended. I discovered that the trail went farther than I originally thought by looking at it on satellite a few days ago. It actually extended about 3 miles farther than I thought. It ends (at least for now, plans are in place to extend it almost 10 more miles over the coming years) at a nice little monument and bridge at the doorstep of the Platte River Archway Monument. When I arrived there last night, I stopped to stretch for a second and was startled by a voice right beside me. The gentleman that I mentioned above was there sitting on a bench by the monument. It started with a random pleasantry, but it turned into a short conversation. We talked about the trail, and the future plans to extend it. I decided to take the opportunity to tell him that I have found his presence on the trail to be an inspiration. He thanked me, and asked me what got me riding, because he has only seen me for the last few weeks. I chose to skip the whole N.A.S.H. explaination, and just tell him that I wanted to lose weight. He asked me where I start riding at, and we talked about length of rides and stuff like that. He complimented me on my progression over the last few weeks. He complimented me on my new-found dedication to exercise, and he threw in a few other encouraging comments along the way. I mention that he complimented me for a reason. Not to toot my own horn, but to praise him just a bit more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He obviously had the 'upper-hand' in the conversation. He is clearly more fit, he is obviously more dedicated, he rides the trail in its entirety it seems,  and he is twice my age! I have told many people time and time again that our society has totally lost sight of what it means to be a man. We have left chivalry, respect, courtesy, and many other things in the dust in exchange for an image of manhood that more closely resembles gorillas.  Chest thumping, 'I'm-the-man' attitudes rule the day. This gentleman was in a situation where the conversation started out with me bowing to him, and he chose to encourage and compliment instead of puff out his chest and swell his pride. Rarely found anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I respected him as a cyclist, today I respect him as a person.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32040762-115586980969047697?l=differentbeat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/feeds/115586980969047697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32040762&amp;postID=115586980969047697&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115586980969047697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115586980969047697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/2006/08/motivation.html' title='Motivation'/><author><name>Wallace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15352688468434417854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32040762.post-115584072178609523</id><published>2006-08-17T13:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-17T14:04:51.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>17,500</title><content type='html'>What is 17,500 calories? 17,500 calories is the amount of fuel hiding in about 30 Big Macs. You don’t like Big Mac? 17,500 calories is also about the same as 66 candy bars. Or how about 70 Pepsis (20oz bottles). 1,200 cups of coffee, 400 apples, 165 bananas... they all equal about 17,500 calories. Now don’t forget, 3,500 un-burned calories amounts to 1 pound of added body fat. Simple math tells us that 17,500 calories equals 5 pounds of body fat. The good news is that 17,500 extra calories burned equals 5 pounds of fat &lt;I&gt;lost&lt;/I&gt;. That, my friends, is exactly what I have finally accomplished. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah! Sweet! Woot! (I had to throw that one in for my web friends). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a bit skeptical about what the scale tells me. So, I only weight myself when conditions are as close to my set of rules as possible. Here are my rules:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5719/3494/1600/apple.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5719/3494/200/apple.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;- I only weight myself in the morning. I wake up and go through my normal ‘self-maintenance routine’. As soon as I have toweled off I step on the scale, in nothing other than what God sent me here in. &lt;br /&gt;- I never weight myself if I have had anything to eat or drink within the last 6 hours. &lt;br /&gt;- I always weight myself after ‘taking a ride on the porcelain bus’. &lt;br /&gt;- I never weight myself unless it is a typical morning, and I got up at my usual time of 6:30. &lt;br /&gt;- I always re-zero the scale before each use. &lt;br /&gt;- Once a week I put a ‘test weight’ on the scale to check for accuracy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why go through all that trouble? I don’t like inconsistent or inaccurate data. I want to remove as many variables out of the equation as possible. I know that is impossible to do, but sticking to my little routine above, I feel a lot better about the results. As a final precaution, I average my weight over a running-3 days, and use that number as my ‘official current weight’. I know I may be going to far, but I don’t want to get excited about weight loss that is not real, or part of a normal fluctuation. Anyway, I've gone from 240lbs to 235. My wife claims to be able to see a difference in my face. I don’t yet. If not for the scale, I wouldn’t believe that I had lost anything at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 pounds down, 35 to go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32040762-115584072178609523?l=differentbeat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/feeds/115584072178609523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32040762&amp;postID=115584072178609523&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115584072178609523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115584072178609523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/2006/08/17500.html' title='17,500'/><author><name>Wallace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15352688468434417854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32040762.post-115557219039433017</id><published>2006-08-14T11:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T11:16:30.406-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Classification</title><content type='html'>I was at the library this weekend getting a few new books and decided to take a look at the magazines. I do this from time to time, just for kicks. Anyway, I decided to borrow a copy of &lt;a href=”runnersworld.com”&gt;Runners World&lt;/a&gt;. I have been having problems with skin-splints, and a few other things after I jog, and thought I might find some helpful information in there. Mostly I did it just for the fun of reading something different. You never know when you are going to stumble across some useful information. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was reading a particularly interesting article on how to setup a training routine, which is right up my alley. There was a special section of the article dedicated to runners over 200 lbs. With me being 240, I was reading rather intently. There were all kinds of useful tips on how to avoid injury and how to pace yourself, you know, because you are &lt;I&gt;so heavy&lt;/I&gt;. That was all well and good. The part that got me was the special name they use for runners over 200 lbs. They call them &lt;I&gt;&lt;b&gt;Clydesdale Runners&lt;/I&gt;&lt;/b&gt;. Seriously. Ouch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;I&gt;&lt;b&gt;Clydesdale Runner&lt;/I&gt;&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gives a whole new meaning to “pounding the pavement”.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32040762-115557219039433017?l=differentbeat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/feeds/115557219039433017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32040762&amp;postID=115557219039433017&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115557219039433017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115557219039433017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/2006/08/new-classification.html' title='New Classification'/><author><name>Wallace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15352688468434417854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32040762.post-115499368364549935</id><published>2006-08-11T18:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-12T20:14:53.520-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Google Earth</title><content type='html'>I have seen a very colorful array of sports equipment being used by people over the last few weeks. Various wraps and supports, special ''wicking" clothes, shoes of astronomical price, and (I still laugh when I see one) those silly side-view mirrors on helmets. Personally, I prefer to have as little on my when I am out as possible. &lt;i&gt;Get your mind out of the gutter, you silly rabbit&lt;/i&gt;. Of course I am fully clothed, I just don't like the have a lot of other things on my person. I have, however, found several items that have become invaluable to my new weight-loss routine. Over the coming week, I will post on each and every one of them, starting with my current favorite, &lt;a href="http://earth.google.com/"&gt;Google Earth&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5719/3494/1600/earth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5719/3494/320/earth.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Actual physical results are so hard to see week-by-week, let alone day-by-day. Setting goals for individual work-outs provide me that sense of accomplishment that is key to keeping yourself going. Like I said, time and distance goals are key for me. I have used Google Earth to map out several main courses that take me by water fountains and get me the main amount of miles that I need to hit on my rides. When I come to the end of which ever one of those courses that I am on, I go freestyle a bit. I ride wherever I feel like riding. When I get home, I use Google earth to measure out the length of the course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that there are all kind of programs that allow you to map out distances on roads, but so far only Google Earth has provided fairly up-to-date satellite imagery of the Kearney area that I can use to measure the distances of the trails, parking-lots, and other various places that I ride. I hate riding on the sidewalks by the roads, and will ride on virtually any other acceptable surface that I can find. The ability that Google Earth gives you to measure distances by snapping points absolutely anywhere on the map means that I have the freedom to go anywhere that I legally can and accurately know the distance.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, by this point I am sure you have thought to your self, "&lt;B&gt;&lt;I&gt;"Why doesn't he just get one of those cheap bike attachments that measures distances as he rides?"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; I'll tell you why. For me, those things have the same effect as that stupid clock does on my desk on Friday afternoons at work. They constantly draw my attention, and sap the fun out of the ride. I prefer to 'take a mental voyage' on my bike rides, or occupy my mind in any one of a thousand other ways. Not only that, Google Earth lets you plan courses ahead of time, and make adjustments before you are out on the road. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click on the image below to get a larger view of my favorite course. The mapped course below shows you the Kearney Hike-and-Bike trail starting on the left at Cottonmill, and ending just outside of the Archway Monument by the interstate. Provides a lot of 'traffic free' miles. So, if you are wanting to do some off-the-track running or riding, Google Earth can be an amazing tool for mapping distances. So far, it is my favorite exersice tool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5719/3494/1600/course.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5719/3494/320/course.png" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32040762-115499368364549935?l=differentbeat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/feeds/115499368364549935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32040762&amp;postID=115499368364549935&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115499368364549935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115499368364549935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/2006/08/google-earth.html' title='Google Earth'/><author><name>Wallace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15352688468434417854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32040762.post-115531399689349047</id><published>2006-08-11T11:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-11T11:33:35.656-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Calorie Explosion</title><content type='html'>I decided at the start of this process that I was not going to be one of those annoying calorie-counting people. I refused to fuss and fret over the caloric content of everything that I put in my stomach. We all know someone that makes a big production out of his or her new diet. &lt;I&gt;&lt;b&gt;”Oh, no thank you. I’m on a diet. Those things are just packed full of calories. You go ahead and have it.”&lt;/I&gt;&lt;/b&gt;. Annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have, much to my distain, taken an interest in exactly that. You see, the problem is that there is no way to gauge how beneficial the exercise is unless you know how many calories you are consuming. That realization hit me yesterday as I was grabbing a little afternoon snack. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been coming in to work quite early for a few days now. It gives me the opportunity to work with the evening shifts a bit, and to spread some training around. I do my best to not adjust my eating schedule during those days, but it’s not easy. I make it all work by having breakfast when I wake, a ‘snack’ about 4 hours later, and then my normal meals for the rest of the day. Moving your day 5 hours earlier throws a wrench into the works a bit. Anyway, I grabbed a Dew for some pick-me-up, and a snickers to calm my stomach.  I do realize that it was not ‘the snack of champions’ or anything like that, but it worked in a pinch, and you only have so many options out of a vending machine anyway, that is, until you read wrappers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Based on my age, height, and all that, I am supposed to need about 3,000 basal calories a day. Basal calories are the calories that you need to maintain normal body functions. It’s a ballpark number, but that is close to what I am supposed to eat. They say not to drop your caloric intake below suggested levels for weight loss reasons, or you just end up attacking your muscles to make up the difference, which is really bad. Anyway, that Dew and snickers bar total nearly 25% of the total number of calories I am supposed to stick with. Wow. I didn’t realize that they were &lt;I&gt;so high&lt;/I&gt; in calories. Now I find myself wondering about everything. I do not intend on making a big display out of it or anything, but holy cow, I had no idea how high in calories pop is. What other foods am I eating that are almost single handedly blowing my caloric intake through the roof? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loathe the thought of ‘calorie counting’, and I will do it in a very discrete and private way. I will say this; This will not be one of those weight loss routines that fail. I will lose all of the weight. I will hit my goal. I am determined and stubborn like that. Even if that means focusing on calories for a few months until I can trust myself to properly monitor my caloric intake.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32040762-115531399689349047?l=differentbeat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/feeds/115531399689349047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32040762&amp;postID=115531399689349047&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115531399689349047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115531399689349047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/2006/08/calorie-explosion.html' title='Calorie Explosion'/><author><name>Wallace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15352688468434417854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32040762.post-115505460485488815</id><published>2006-08-08T11:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T19:19:16.743-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Picking up speed</title><content type='html'>I have continued to learn a lot during these first few weeks of biking. I was concerned at first about distance, but what I have been realizing is that distance is not important if you don’t factor in time. For example, a one-hour bike ride at between 12 – 13.9 mph burns about 674 calories. A one-hour bike ride between 14 – 15.9 mph burns 867 calories. Of course, that’s based on a guy my size, but that’s still almost 30% more calories in the same hour. You see, at first I was setting goals like &lt;I&gt;”I want to make it from my house to the archway and back”&lt;/I&gt;. Although that is admirable, it’s very important to do it within a set time frame. Logically, I always knew that the speed mattered just as much as the distance, I just didn’t realize how much. You simply can’t separate time and distance when you are setting goals. Seems glaringly obvious now, but that wasn’t the case during the first week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=www.fitday.com&gt;Fitday.com&lt;/a&gt;, which is where I keep my exercise journal, classifies speed like this:&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5719/3494/1600/speedometer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5719/3494/320/speedometer.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 – 11.9 mph = Light&lt;br /&gt;12 – 13.9 mph = Moderate &lt;br /&gt;14 – 15.9 mph = Vigorous&lt;br /&gt;16 – 19.9 mph = Racing with drafting&lt;br /&gt;20 mph = Racing without drafting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that those speeds sounded a bit low, but after a few rides, I realized that I was wrong. I can hit 30 mph in a straight sprint on my bike, but we are talking about sustained speed over the course of one hour. Go 30 mph all you want in a dead sprint on a flat stretch, but I dare you to maintain that speed going up a 30-degree hill, or into a 15 mph head wind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first few rides were averaging 11-12 mph. So, I plotted out a 14-mile course, and set a goal of traversing it in 1 hour, thus raising myself into a higher calorie category. To my surprise, I made it. I would have never made that ride a week ago. I have been stunned by how quickly my body has been strengthening up, and how much more I am able to do as the days go by. I was very, very pleased with myself. My body is responding wonderfully to this whole routine. I felt great at the end too. It is the first time that I have felt anything close to the ‘runners high’. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been noticing all kinds of small physical improvements. I have been breathing deeper and slower lately. I have been sleeping deeper, and not waking up at all at night. I used to have these lulls in my energy levels around lunchtime everyday. They have become almost unnoticeable these past few days. If I feel this much better after 9 days, I can’t wait to see how I feel after a few months. Tonight I am going to try the same course and shoot for a better time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32040762-115505460485488815?l=differentbeat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/feeds/115505460485488815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32040762&amp;postID=115505460485488815&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115505460485488815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115505460485488815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/2006/08/picking-up-speed.html' title='Picking up speed'/><author><name>Wallace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15352688468434417854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32040762.post-115474732867084056</id><published>2006-08-04T22:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-16T11:39:40.630-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Close Call</title><content type='html'>Deer are smart. They are so smart that in order to catch them human males have been waking up in the wee hours of the night, painting their faces strange colors, putting on clothes that would cause the guys on ‘queer eye’ to have seizures, rubbing the urine of amorous female mammals on themselves and climbing trees in hopes of getting to see one. They are not out to see just any deer though. Small ones, unhealthy ones, or deer deemed to be unfit for killing in any other way are passed up in hopes of bagging a trophy buck. These guys are hunting for the top-notch deer. Because of the deers superior senses, and high intelligence, doing this successfully is quite hard. Hunters hoping to improve their chances spend millions of dollars every year on all sorts of hunting paraphernalia. TV shows are dedicated to teaching us how by watching professionals accomplish the feat. Like I said, deer are smart. That makes me wonder then, why I have managed to come within spitting distance of 2 deer in less than a week while bike riding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not even trying to see these animals. It’s usually in the evening. I don’t have my face painted. I am certainly not wearing the proper clothes. And I am not, at least to my knowledge, wearing the urine of any amorous female mammals. So, how is it that a loud, sweaty bike riding man can accomplish such a feat twice in a week? I can’t say, but I do have a few theories. We all know that these animals are very sneaky and illusive in their natural habitat. We have to go to great lengths to hide in their natural environment in order to get a peek. I am spotting them by the bike trail, which is past the interstate and right against the city... obviously not their natural habitat. Why are these deer so far away from home? Well, my first thought was that they hunters. Rogue deer out to bag a ‘buck’ of their own. I decided against that theory because I have not actually been assaulted yet. I would hate to think that I am one of the small, unhealthy, or otherwise unacceptable specimen that they have chose to pass up on. That led me to my second theory. These deer are spies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s right, they are spies on reconnaissance missions. After all these years they have had enough and are planning to attack. These deer are the harbingers of war. Prepare yourselves gentlemen. Very soon we may have deer hiding in our alleys wearing dresses, lipstick, and perfume. Don’t be fooled. They are simply turning our tactics against us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is the possibility, although small, that I am blowing things a little bit out of proportion. Maybe these deer are not &lt;I&gt;spies&lt;/i&gt; gathering information for the coming &lt;I&gt;invasion&lt;/I&gt;. Maybe they are not &lt;i&gt;hunters&lt;/i&gt; out for their own &lt;I&gt;trophies&lt;/I&gt;. Maybe they are just lost and confused deer that have wondered too close to our cities, which have long been encroaching into their homes. Well, you think what you like. I for one choose not to be that naïve.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32040762-115474732867084056?l=differentbeat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/feeds/115474732867084056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32040762&amp;postID=115474732867084056&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115474732867084056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115474732867084056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/2006/08/another-close-call.html' title='Another Close Call'/><author><name>Wallace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15352688468434417854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32040762.post-115474735548922471</id><published>2006-08-04T22:08:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-05T08:49:13.016-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Milestone #1</title><content type='html'>This morning marks the first full complete week of the new weight loss campaign, which my friend Kelly christened as the &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Wal-Less Campaign"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;. I puttered through 40 miles by bike, 6.75 by foot, and coupled with a bit of lifting, burned a bit over 3400 calories. Add that with a stricter watch over types and quantities of food, and I am feeling rather optimistic. A good start its exactly what I needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5719/3494/1600/ANDY.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:LEFT; margin:10PX 10PX 0px 0px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5719/3494/320/ANDY.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I have decided to put the bike and running shoes away for a day and replace them with some lifting. I enjoy heavy lifting, the kind intended for size, but I am going to have to set that aside for now. The goal here is to burn calories, so I am going to replace the heavy lifting with some calisthenics (light weight and high reps). My legs have earned the right to rest for a day, not to mention my butt. Until this last week, I had not been on my bike for nearly a year. Though I did purchase a very nice seat for my bike a while back, I still feel a lot like Andy Dufresne must have felt during his first year in prison.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32040762-115474735548922471?l=differentbeat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/feeds/115474735548922471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32040762&amp;postID=115474735548922471&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115474735548922471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115474735548922471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/2006/08/milestone-1.html' title='Milestone #1'/><author><name>Wallace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15352688468434417854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32040762.post-115474248196572487</id><published>2006-08-04T20:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-05T08:49:28.336-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lessons Learned</title><content type='html'>This will be my first installment of lessons that I have learned through this new venture of weight loss/exercise. So, here we go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do&lt;/b&gt; buy a scale. Body fat % is more important that actual weight, so invest in one that calculates it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Don't&lt;/b&gt; use your new scale everyday. 1 pound of fat equals 3,500 calories. That means you have to burn 3,500 more than you consume. It's also considered unhealthy to lose more than a pound or 2 a week. On a day to day basis, that is not very encouraging to see. You can swing a pound or 2 a day anyway. Do it weekly at the most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do&lt;/b&gt; take water with you. Personally, I don't like taking water, so I have planned my routes to take me past public fountains. That, and I chew gum. Anything to keep the throat moist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Don't&lt;/b&gt; chew your gum with your mouth open, especially if you ride in the evening. Lightning bugs look a lot better than they taste. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do&lt;/b&gt; let everyone you feel comfortable telling know about your new fitness goals. Accountability is awesome, and very motivating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Don't&lt;/b&gt; expect to see results anytime soon. It took years to put the weight on (10 in my case), it's going to take a while to get it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do&lt;/b&gt; set goals other than body fat 5 or weight, like distance and/or speed on a course goals. It's nice to hit some short term targets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Don't&lt;/b&gt; wuss out on your goals. Make them something you have to work for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that they sound simple, but a few of those were not so obvious at first. I always assumed that lightning bugs would taste fruity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32040762-115474248196572487?l=differentbeat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/feeds/115474248196572487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32040762&amp;postID=115474248196572487&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115474248196572487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115474248196572487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/2006/08/lessons-learned.html' title='Lessons Learned'/><author><name>Wallace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15352688468434417854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32040762.post-115453396298194626</id><published>2006-08-02T09:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-02T10:59:24.800-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Close Call</title><content type='html'>Today was the day that I have been dreading for the last 2 weeks. I knew that there would be days during this exercise routine that the cards would be stacked against me, and I would not want to go out. My head hurt, my neck hurt, heck… everything hurt. Top it off with a long day at work and some storms moving through the area, and you have the perfect mix of excuses to take a ‘rest day’. I really struggled with it for a few hours, but in the end, I decided to force myself to get out and hit the trail. Winning that mental battle was probably more important than overcoming the physical aches anyway. I mean seriously, it’s was only day 4. It’s way too early to give in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you that don’t live in Kearney Nebraska, let me tell you about the trail system that I referenced yesterday. After years of work, the City installed a trail that runs from Fort Kearney, about 10 miles outside of town, all the way through town, past Yanney Park, past campus and the golf course, and out to Cottonmill. I know that’s gibberish to outsiders, but suffice it to say that the trail is a quiet, traffic free ride around the edge of town, even getting a bit ‘woodsy’ in places. I live close to the trail, and have chosen it to handle the majority of my routes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a stretch of trail just past Yanney Park that winds along the Canal through a mile long swath of classic Nebraska landscape. Trees lining the canal side, and tall grass on the other. I found myself smack in the middle of that portion of trail just before dusk. I was enjoying the sound of the canal and concentrating on keeping my speed up when out of the thick bush lunged a beast, directly into my path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I jerked the bike sideways, more as a startled reaction than an intentional evasive maneuver. A quick assessment revealed that my assailant was a deer. I know what you are thinking. “Ha ha, Wallace yelped like a little girl because a silly old deer jumped out in front of him.” Well smarty pants, I’ll have you know that it was more of a manly grunt, something more akin to the battle cries you would imagine hearing during a scene of BraveHeart, and it was no ordinary deer. It was a Grizzly Deer. A huge, ferocious Ghetto Grizzly deer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5719/3494/1600/Grizzly%20Deer.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5719/3494/320/Grizzly%20Deer.1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oh sure, I can hear you now. “There is no such thing as Ghetto Grizzly Deer Wallace.” Well, doubting Thomas, I assure you that there are. You‘re probably the kind of person that doesn’t believe in Big Foot, Loch Ness, or unicorns, and enjoys stealing candy form little kids. Well open your eyes my friend. These animals are real and in some cases, they are out to get you. So give the poor kid his sucker back, and be quiet. I’m telling a story.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, back to the Grizzly Deer. He had handlebars hanging from his neck on a thick chain, obviously stripped from one of his previous victims. Reflectors dangled from his ears like earrings, further testament to his previous exploits. This was obviously a tough animal. As a matter of fact, I am almost certain that I saw an NRA bumper sticker just under his tail, which he so graciously raised high in the air revealing his butt to me in a very mocking fashion. He ran in front of me for a surprisingly long time, obviously sizing me up, before turning right and heading off into the field. I’m sure he did the math and realized that he had no chance of pulling off anything crazy with me. He thought it best to just moon me and ‘exit stage right’ before things got hairy. Smart deer. Save the crazy stuff for the guys on roller blades. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last I saw of him he was headed for a thicket, where I am sure his friends were waiting to greet him with pats on the back and comments like;  “That was awesome dude!”, “You totally got that guy!”, and “You should have seen his face!”. He was obviously and adolescent deer. One that needs a little more parental supervision. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupid teenage Ghetto Grizzly deer. I blame the rap music.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, aside from the attack by the bloodthirsty deer. The ride went well. I won a metal victory, and burned another 9 miles of rubber in the process.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32040762-115453396298194626?l=differentbeat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/feeds/115453396298194626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32040762&amp;postID=115453396298194626&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115453396298194626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115453396298194626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/2006/08/close-call.html' title='Close Call'/><author><name>Wallace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15352688468434417854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32040762.post-115452727340963704</id><published>2006-07-31T20:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-02T09:05:36.503-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sore</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5719/3494/1600/sore.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5719/3494/320/sore.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ok. Some soreness was expected, and I am comfortable that. I am still well within my limits, so it’s time to ratchet things up a bit. After the jog on day 2, it became obvious that I need to stick to the bike a lot more, at least at the beginning. Jogging is much more high-impact, and I want to get my muscles through this ‘start-up’ process without any more stress than necessary. Back to the bike I go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of plotting a course out this time, I decided to just hit the trail and let my legs tell me when I have gone far enough. About 25 minutes later I found myself staring at the metal-wire buffalos that we have here in Kearney down by the Archway. I turned around a headed home, throwing in a quick ½ mile slow jog at the end to work out the kinks and cool down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little research revealed that it was a 9-mile bike ride. 9.5 miles total. I think that I am going to stick with something in this range for a while. My body told me that I was riding that fine line between pushing myself, and injuring myself. I think that I will stick with this kind of distance until the ‘start-up soreness’ ends. I find myself terribly grateful that Kearney put this trail system in a few years back. It is turning out to be a huge blessing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32040762-115452727340963704?l=differentbeat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/feeds/115452727340963704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32040762&amp;postID=115452727340963704&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115452727340963704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115452727340963704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/2006/07/sore.html' title='Sore'/><author><name>Wallace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15352688468434417854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32040762.post-115452696381557047</id><published>2006-07-30T20:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-02T09:04:53.333-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1 &amp; 2</title><content type='html'>Losing a lot of weight sure is easy to say. I’ve said it a hundred times in the last week. Now it’s time to get started, and I feel like I am standing at the base of a huge mountain struggling with how to take the first step. The real question is not &lt;em&gt;what&lt;/em&gt; to do, it’s more how &lt;em&gt;much&lt;/em&gt; to do. I haven’t done any serious exercise in years, and I have no idea how my body is going to react.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Start small, I guess, and find out how hard I can push it. I decided to start off on the bike. 5 miles sounded like a good place to start. A fairly quick bike ride from my house to Cottonmill, a local lake on the edge of town, did the trick. It was fairly uneventful, and I was doing okay the next morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With day 1 over with no major problems, it was time to try jogging. I decided to see what would happen with a brisk 3-mile jog. I had to stop jogging and do some mall-walking on several occasions. I remember when I weighed 165 lbs and I could run without stopping for 10 miles, and only stopping then out of boredom. Those days are over. I am hauling an extra 75 lbs down the road now, and 27 is a lot different than 17 was anyway. My body may be complaining, but my mind is still sharp enough, and I pushed myself through it. The cumulative effects of the bike ride on day 1, and the jog on day 2 have left me feeling, well, sore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sore really doesn’t cover it. I feel like I spent 45 minutes in a tumbler with a load of bricks. The good news is that I don’t feel like I have hit the upper limit of what I can handle physically yet. I feel sore, but I don’t feel like I have risked injury yet. I want to approach that line carefully though. Nothing puts the kibosh on a new exercise routine like an early injury.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32040762-115452696381557047?l=differentbeat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/feeds/115452696381557047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32040762&amp;postID=115452696381557047&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115452696381557047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115452696381557047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/2006/07/day-1-2.html' title='Day 1 &amp; 2'/><author><name>Wallace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15352688468434417854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32040762.post-115449038373517516</id><published>2006-07-29T22:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-02T09:05:18.210-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thus it begins... again</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5719/3494/1600/bike_path.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5719/3494/320/bike_path.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So here we go. Again. I've started and stopped this blogging thing about 10 times now. In an attempt to remove all of the complexities of the whole affair, and to cure myself of "tinker-itis", I have gone with the blogger account that you see before you now. Why start it up again you ask? Ah, now that's where the story begins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was diagnosed recently (after about 2 gallons of blood and a biopsy later) with a condition called N.A.S.H. You are more than welcome to google it and read all about it, but in a nut shell it means that if I am carrying any extra weight (anything over 15-18% body fat, my liver will be suffering the same effects as if I were an alcoholic. Leave it unchecked over years and you have cirrhosis. So there it is, lose weight or lose my liver. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started an account over at www.fitday.com, which I am loving more and more everyday. I am using it to track my exercise routine. It is far more functional than that, and I am sure that I will use it more and more as time goes on, but for now I am happy having it record activities. I am using a spreadsheet to track several key physical measurements along with weight and body fat %. This blogger account will be my 'journal' through the whole thing, and hopefully over time it will grow to cover much, much more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;240 lbs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30% body fat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A long way to go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32040762-115449038373517516?l=differentbeat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/feeds/115449038373517516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32040762&amp;postID=115449038373517516&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115449038373517516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32040762/posts/default/115449038373517516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://differentbeat.blogspot.com/2006/07/thus-it-begins-again.html' title='Thus it begins... again'/><author><name>Wallace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15352688468434417854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
