What’s For Breakfast?

Posted Oct 17, 2006 by Janine Dorsey

Updated Oct 17, 2006 at 12:13 PM

It’s grocery shopping day today. I know that because there is nothing but half a loaf of bread and a few wrinkled limes in the fridge.

Lunch is served!

And breakfast was served, too.

Luckily, the school serves all the kids free breakfast regardless of income.  So the twerps probably had fresh-baked cinnamon rolls or yogurt and cereal or some such nonsense. 

But for me it was peanut butter toast.  Twice.

Hopefully I will not enounter anyone kissable before I get a chance to brush my teeth this afternoon.

And if the gods are smiling on me, I will get to the grocery store before it becomes a trifecta and PBT is on the menu for dinner, too. 

Marty is on a lunch date with his buddy Andrew, not likely to be eating toast.

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More Options To NY

Posted Oct 17, 2006 by Chris Chmura

Updated Oct 17, 2006 at 09:09 AM

LaGuardia and JFK too busy for you? Islip too far away from the Big Apple? AirTran may have a solution or two for you if you’re flying from Tampa.

The Tampa Tribune has details.

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week two!

Posted Oct 17, 2006 by jriley

Updated Oct 17, 2006 at 01:28 AM

It’s time for the week 2 review! Let’s get to it.

Exercise: I’ve been keeping up with both bicycling and the resistance training. I have been able to increase the weight load. On last Thursday, however, I was considerably less efficient in my workout. I could not, for the life of me, lift the loads I’d started out with back on 10/02. I’ve been here before; I didn’t give my muscles enough downtime to heal from the minor, planned trauma that weightlifting inflicts on muscle fiber. When I ignored this warning sign in the past, I ended up getting sick. So, I bailed on working out for 3 days. When I went back to it today, I was able to increase my weight load by about 15% on average, overall.

As to biking, tonight, coming home, I had a skid, maybe on sand, crossing the 40th street bridge on the pathway between the devil traffic and the deep icky-colored river. I maintained balance, but apparently whacked the heck out of my back wheel bouncing between the balustrade and the curb. Broken spokes, and a warped wheel. So now it’s either repair or replace, and since I didn’t get home till 930pm, it’ll have to wait. I’ll be using the gym’s stationary bikes to make up for the cardio.

Diet: I adhered faithfully to the diet all week. My major falling off the wagon (heck, leaping off the dang wagon) was Sunday, which was my wife’s and my own shared birthday. Yes, we were both born on 10/15, me 2 years earlier than her. We celebrated by dining out at the Longhorn Steakhouse over on Dale Mabry. A Texas “tonion” (I hate hokey, made-up merchandising/advertising words) to start, then a nice steak and grilled onions, with Caesar salad and fries, and a good California Cabernet Sauvignon.

No, I don’t feel guilty.

And now, the stats!

Weight 227 pounds (down 3 from last week, down 8 since the start of the Challenge)

Fat percentage 32% (no change from last week, 1% down since the start of the Challenge)

I am not surprised at the lesser weight loss. Resistance training does add density to your muscles. This will slow down weight loss in the short term, but since it takes more calories to maintain muscle as opposed to maintaining blubber, in the long term, I’ll burn more calories, and lose more weight, just not dramatically so.

Overall, not too shabby. I’m happy with the progress here, and I intend to stick with the Challenge.

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Beginning At The Beginning

Posted Oct 16, 2006 by Mike DeWitt

Updated Oct 23, 2006 at 03:23 PM

Video: DeWitt On The Trail | Video: DeWitt’s Gear

Thirty years ago I was on the cusp of graduating from a small high school on an Air Force base once known as Hahn in a country once known as West Germany. One of my closest friends was Barbara Klinke, a German girl who was the daughter of the town doctor. We’d grown up together and now stood on the threshold of adulthood, infused with the serum of endless possibilities.

One day, as we hiked in the woods near her house, Barbara confided to me that she dreamed of following in her father’s footsteps. She would become a doctor and, one day, take over her father’s practice. I revealed to her that my dream was to travel to the remote corners of the world and write about them. I had never before told anyone because no one but Barbara would have believed it.

Two weeks later I was a high school graduate and on my way to the United States and a disaterous year at the University of Florida. I never saw or spoke with Barbara Klinke again.

My year as a Gator gave way to a four-year enlistment in the Marine Corps. I was an infantryman, otherwise known as a grunt. Grunts are provided endless opportunities to backpack and camp in some of the most remote corners of the world. Although the Corps strongly encourages self-improvement, developing the writer’s art is understandably absent from it’s infantry training doctrine.

The years following my service are a blur of footloose backpacking, motorcycle touring and a couple of marriages. I settled down, worked a few jobs and somehow wound up as a hazardous materials emergency responder. I started a business, had some luck and raised a family. I became a Boy Scout leader when my son grew old enough to join. With 20 more like him in tow, we backpacked, climbed, camped and paddled every chance we got, and for the first time, I wrote about it. Climbing Magazine published it.

I was 45 years old and needed no further encouragement. I sold my business to the first buyer who showed the slightest interest and resolved to become a journalist. Everyone with my best interests at heart did their best to talk me out of it. The most convincing of these was a friend of mine who is a veteran editor at the Tampa Tribune. When finally he found me terminally unreceptive to reason, he arranged for me to interview for a correspondent position. I managed somehow to land the gig and for the past three years have enjoyed the privilege of writing weekly outdoor stories for the Tampa Tribune.

A couple of weeks ago I suggested the idea of hiking the Florida Trail from end-to-end and writing weekly stories of the people and places that are the custodians of what may be Florida’s greatest and least-known treasure. The response from the Tampa Tribune was overwhelmingly positive. I have not stopped smiling since that time.

In seven days I will awaken on the Florida-Alabama line and make the first of the 2.3 million steps - a distance of about 1078 miles - that will lead me to the heart of the Everglades. For two and a half months I will walk in some of the most remote corners of Florida and at the end of each day -technology gods willing-I will write to you. My hope is to do that well enough for you to feel as if you are right there with me - every step of the way.

And Barbara Klinke? I heard that she’s married with a couple of kids. And that her practice is doing very nicely, thank you.

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What, No Prostate Danish?

Posted Oct 16, 2006 by Jeff Houck

Updated Oct 16, 2006 at 06:49 PM

It’s a lovely thought, Panera. Really. I know you have nothing but altruistic intentions in mind, but please, in the name of all things holy and sacred…

...stop. If you’re still going to sell them, for God’s sake don’t put raisins in them.

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