The Day After

It's on the SciFi channel right now. Funny to think it's been nearly 25 years since I first, and last, saw it. I was struck by the cast that includes the likes of Jason Robards, John Cullum, Stephen Furst, John Lithgow, JoBeth Williams, Amy Madigan, Steve Guttenberg...I didn't remember noticing any of them at the time, and though some of their stars (Guttenberg's for instance) have faded since the early 80s, they were biggish names in those days.

I remember it being a huge event when it came out. VCRs were still new technology, and it was in that barely-recallable time when you watched a film, commercials and everything, when it aired, or you didn't watch it at all. I was a freshman in high school, and it was required viewing; most of my friends say it was so for them as well.

Sadistic. That's the word that comes to mind. Not that we weren't used to it. We all went to Catholic school, so we were no strangers to punishment, deserved or not, physical and otherwise. We were used to being controlled with threats and fear. Still, 25 years later, I'm puzzled as to the logic behind this particular "assignment."

It's hard to recall the real level of uncertainty, the constant undercurrent of fear that coursed through daily life during the Cold War. It almost seems pointless to have produced such a film 40 years into it. Who in this world was ignorant of the possibilities? Who didn't have at least the occasional sleepless night, imagining the nightmare scenarios, the horror that would engulf us, particularly those unlucky enough to survive? I vividly remember the consensus among my peers being that living in a big east coast city was a good thing. We had no delusions about "the day after." We had designs on ground zero, always hoping to be just close enough for a flash...and then nothing.

I suppose I wasn't scarred. I watched, I survived, I had nightmares, I moved on. Sitting here now, though, watching the final scene that has always stuck with me, when Jason Robards returns to his home in Kansas City, when the words scroll across the screen stating that the events portrayed in this film are likely far less severe than what would actually occur, I wonder what in the name of all that's supposedly holy was going through the minds of our teachers.

This was not an after school special on teen pregnancy or the dangers of drinking and driving. This was not a cautionary tale, or an attempt to enlighten the public about an issue of which they were fundamentally ignorant. It was not even an instructional film on how to survive, unlike the frightening but useless air-raid drills of the 50s and 60s.

We were teenagers. Cocky, insolent, moody, erratic, secretive and of course, POWERLESS. We could do nothing to change the dangers present in our world; we could not even vote for someone who might find a way. We were, like the rest of the world, captives of circumstance.

So why present this horror? Why show us what our world, at least to our minds at that point in history, was bound to become?

Two decades later the threats are different. Climate change, terrorism, pandemic flu. The proverbial "big one" could hit at any time. And yet I feel no complusion to, in the name of education, sit a child down in front of a screen and force them to watch a ruined world die in agony. And I wonder, all these years later, what drove those "educators" to steal our hope.

The Other Man in My Life

is Les Mills.

My gym currently offers five of his classes: RPM, Body Pump, Body Attack, Body Vive, and Body Flow, with Body Combat and Body Jam on the menu for spring. I'm a patron of only the first three. The other two are a little too slow for me. Body Flow is a combination of yoga, Tai Chi and Pilates. Fantastic for strength and flexibility but bores me out of my gourd (though my mom, who is 63, takes it and enjoys it). Body Vive is specifically desinged for 50+. I look forward to trying Body Combat when our Y hosts Les Mills master trainers next month, and hope it will be a good fit and spice up my routine when it's added later this year.

Over the next couple days I'd like to review the classes I currently take. I'll start with RPM, which is the latest addition to my repertoire and probably will get the most mixed review, which in truth is less a reflection on the Mills group and more a personal preference.

RPM is essentially spinning. Spinning has long seemed like something I *should* try, but always avoided. High-ish calorie burn (by my calculations about 500 for 50 minutes, fewer than my other classes, but not bad for less than an hour's work). Good lower body work out. However, hearing it called "spinning" presented a mental block; the name itself almost implies an exercise in frustration. The biggest drawback for me, though, was my complete and utter disdain for bicycle seats. I don't mind achy muscles. A day with no aches is a day where nothing has been acheived. A bruised tush that leaves me walking like a cowboy for three days is a different story entirely. We ride trails as a family for leisure in warmer weather, but I have outfitted my mountain bike with an enormous gel seat because I'm a class-A wuss when it comes to the derriere.

So up until two weeks ago we enjoyed the spoils of climate change, which will surely be the end of us all but who cares when you're out in shorts and tee shirts in January. Priorities.

Anyway, the unfolding cataclysmic global catastrophe afforded me, Mrs. Heat Miser, Mrs. 101, the opportunity to continue outdoor training well past the norm, but alas, winter is upon us once again, and with highs not acheiving 20 degrees now, running is a no-go. (I'm a bigger wuss about cold weather than I am about my tuchus. And that's saying something.)

So I surveyed my options, and found that if I gave up my day off, I could get in a fairly decent cardio workout on Friday mornings before work. I took my first class Friday a week ago, and it was actually okay. The program keeps things moving, changing up, each track provides a different approach to the ride...climbs, racing, mixed intervals, you're up, you're down, high resistance, low resistence, etc. The time goes quickly, and the crowd is friendly (there is a subset of pre-dawn regulars at the Y, I have several classes in common with many of them, so that makes it more fun). The music is probably my favorite of all three classes, with a little more emphasis on rock than techno. My heart rate does get up there (probably not to the degree it would running or with Body Attack, but I definitely get a burn). My legs are like rocks while I'm on the bike, so I know those muscles are engaged and are burning calories. My hiney is not 100% in love with the situation, but all things considered, it's not as bad as I anticipated and the discomfort ends with class, so I'm not left John-Wayne-ing it all weekend (though my inner wimp is trying to convince me to go out and get some padded bike shorts, and I have to admit, she presents a good case).

Conclusion: I'm not super-enthusiastic, and for me, its easy fit into my schedule is the biggest draw. However, once a week, it's something different, which jogs the metabolism as well as keeps up the mental energy. I am setting my sights on completing a small tri by year's end, and it's more cycling training than I get regularly by a long shot (swimming is a horse of a different color, that's going to take a boatload of discipline, no pun intended). All in all, a decent workout that goes by quickly and delivers what it promises. Two cheeks up!

"Madam Speaker"

Beautiful words! Rock on, Nancy.

Too bad it all went into the shitter after that.

You did not vote them into law. I did not sign them into law. Yet they are treated as if they have the force of law. The time has come to end this practice.

Yay! No more signing statements! Oh, wait, he's talking about earmarks.

The No Child Left Behind Act has worked for America's children -- and I ask Congress to reauthorize this good law.

What exactly is he sipping out of that glass anyway?

For all other Americans, private health insurance is the best way to meet their needs. But many Americans cannot afford a health insurance policy.

The Boy Wonder has a layover in reality...

For Americans who now purchase health insurance on their own, my proposal would mean a substantial tax savings -- $4,500 for a family of four making $60,000 a year. And for the millions of other Americans who have no health insurance at all, this deduction would help put a basic private health insurance plan within their reach.

And he's gone again....

Achieving these ambitious goals will dramatically reduce our dependence on foreign oil, but will not eliminate it. So as we continue to diversify our fuel supply, we must also step up domestic oil production in environmentally sensitive ways. And to further protect America against severe disruptions to our oil supply, I ask Congress to double the current capacity of the Strategic Petroleum Reserve.

Brilliant! Someone remind me, what business is the Bush family in again?

And we have a shared obligation to ensure that the Federal courts have enough judges to hear those cases and deliver timely rulings. As President, I have a duty to nominate qualified men and women to vacancies on the Federal bench.

Just sayin'. I get to pick 'em and stuff. Uncle Dick said so. He he.

life since 9/11 has never been the same.

There's the money shot! Hot damn, that *never* gets old!

Our enemies are quite explicit about their intentions. They want to overthrow moderate governments and establish safe havens from which to plan and carry out new attacks on our country. By killing and terrorizing Americans, they want to force our country to retreat from the world and abandon the cause of liberty. They would then be free to impose their will and spread their totalitarian ideology.

But enough about Sam Brownback...

My fellow citizens, our military commanders and I have carefully weighed the options.

Military commanders? But you're the *Decider*.

If American forces step back before Baghdad is secure, the Iraqi government would be overrun by extremists on all sides. We could expect an epic battle between Shia extremists backed byIran, and Sunni extremists aided by al Qaeda and supporters of the old regime. A contagion of violence could spill out across the country -- and in time the entire region could be drawn into the conflict. For America, this is a nightmare scenario. For the enemy, this is the objective. Chaos is their greatest ally in this struggle. And out of chaos in Iraq would emerge an emboldened enemy with new safe havens ... new recruits ... new resources ... and an even greater determination to harm America.

If? Would? Could? Are you freaking kidding me?

and continue to awaken the conscience of the world to save the people of Darfur.

This is just f&*$ing insulting. To Darfur, to the world's apparently ignorant collective conscience, and to those of us who can actually identify Africa on a map.

And speaking of maps, does this buffoon even realize that a major American city still lies in ruins, that thousands are still displaced from their homes? Not one word about the Gulf Coast. Disgraceful.

Bottoms Up!

A little late in the game, but thought I'd throw a little a State-of-the-Union party right here in blogland. God knows you can't watch this crap sober...

Every time our fearless leader says:

freedom: drink 1
liberty: drink 1
nuk-u-lar: drink 1
Saddam Hussein: drink 2
terror: drink 1
war: drink 1
war on terror: drink 2

Every time Chuckles:

shuffles his feet: drink 2
snickers: drink 1
says something he thinks is witty or insightful and grins smugly: drink 2
every time it's not: drink 1
smirks: drink 1
metions God: drink 1
butchers Nancy Pelosi's name and/or title, deliberately or otherwise: drink 2
mispronounces Mahmoud Ahmadinejad: drink 1
stutters: drink 1
uses a nonword: drink 2
resigns: chug your beer, strip down naked and run through the streets shouting in jubilation

Add your own to the list.....

And GO JIM WEBB!

Okay, But WHY?

Or more to the point, why not? Why not Hillary?

I've heard it all from "she's divisive" (who isn't in this political climate?) to her war support (which was not an aberration at the time) to "she let Bill get away with that" (I'm sorry, wasn't the bogus impeachment enough? did you want the leader of the free world dealing with a divorce too? oh, and by the way, how is it any of your business?).

I just don't get it. I actually had someone tell me he'd vote for any Dem but Hillary. When I asked why, he didn't want to get into it. It was like listening to the teacher on Charlie Brown. Whole lotta nothing. You say you don't want to get into it, I hear "I don't have a reason, I'm just repeating what I read on Huffpo" at best. At worst, I hear "I'm a raging misogynist with mommy issues and a tiny penis."

I have a problem with Hillary. I am gravely concerned about her electability. We cant' afford to blow this one. As a patron of the leftwing blogosphere, perhaps I am out of touch with the general public. I hope that's the case.

That aside (ideally if she wins the nomination, Dems will step up and support her, even if only as the lesser of two evils), I think she'd make a kick-ass president. I'm an avowed pinko commie liberal, but let's face it, most of this country is not, and those centrist positions of hers that piss off the left so thoroughly are the only realistic approach to a workable government. Plus, she's a pretty smucking fart lady. It'd sure be nice to have a triple digit IQ in the White House again.

So...what's the deal? If you're a Hill-hater, why? If she wins the Democratic nomination, are you on board, even begrudgingly? Who do you want to see on the ticket?

Only Three Months

since I lost posted. Belated holiday wishes!

January already. We've had little winter, but now it's cold. Too cold. Too cold for running (and hey, what else matters?). I'm bummed. A couple weeks ago I had the Broad Street in the bag (it's a 10 miler in May). With four months to go I was pounding out 9 miles in 90 minutes in the 'hood, which is considerably more challenging than flying straight down Broad Street on an almost imperceptible decline. Now I burn calories worrying that I'm going to lose my edge, and there wasn't much of one to start!

So now I'm stuck in the gym. Classes five days a week, with Saturday and Sunday on my own, occasionally including a good 7-8 miler weekly if the gods cooperate. Or if I stop being a wuss. The latter is by far more unlikely.

I took my first step class today. Well, first in about 15 years. Felt like a jerk. Thankfully there was also one other new person, and she was considerably less coordinated than me. Not to rejoice in another's shortcomings, but hey, better her than me. Good class though, with my favorite instructor, an impossibly tiny, uncommonly energetic woman triathlete 8 months along with her third child. Talk about motivation. When you can't keep up with the pregnant chick, you're in a bad way.

So as I kind of see this blog morphing into a fitness journal, running log, dietary diary (occasional political rants notwithstanding), a short history of the journey so far, and a weak attempt at justifying my escalating addiction to exercise (see DSM-IV, "Obsessive Compulsive Disorder").

I've always been an on-again-off-again exerciser. At times I've really enjoyed belonging to a gym, but then I stopped pushing a bar and started pushing out kids. In September 2005 we joined a Y, figuring that the discounts for the programs the kids were using would about pay for it, and hey, we might work out too.

Somehow we found ourselves in the .06% of people who think that and then actually do. No one was more surprised than me and my chins.

It was slow going. Some time on the treadmill walking, some machines. Learned not to fall off the elliptical, and still recall the days when I struggled through a 10-minute-stint. I lost 5 pounds in 3 months (had decided not to adjust my diet til after the holidays). On a good day I could add a 5-minute jog to my treadmill routine. I was there 3 days/week, unless, you know, it was cold or raining or I got a better offer.

After the first of the year I started Weight Watchers. I'm really good at starting WW. I start it all the time. I stuck with it for a couple months, dropping 10 pounds. For years I'd considered vegetarianism, and it suddenly occurred to me that there was no good reason in the world not to do it (all the good reasons to do it will likely appear in another entry/rant). So I did. Cold, um, turkey. I had intended to do it more slowly but didn't see the point. I had intended to eat fish occasionally, but again, why? So now I'm 100% ovo-lacto, and consume no flesh products. Gotta draw the line somewhere. Good thing I never liked Jello.

Anyway, new vegetarianism and WW didn't mix for me. I had to concentrate on nutrients, not points. I was pleasantly surprised by the fact that they didn't need to mix. By listening to my body, feeding it when it was hungry, and doing a quick mental risk/benefit analysis of everything I ate, I made the right choices...without scales, or sliderules, or journals. Party-time, excellent.

Yada yada yada, I continued to lose weight, started running, started really liking the way I looked, and felt, started wanting more and more, changed Ys, added great classes, learned my way around the weight room, and today I am 35 pounds lighter, 5 sizes smaller, and in better shape than I've ever been (that's so cliche but it's true. Honest Injun.). My goals this year include 2 half-marathons. I never thought I was that person. I still can't believe I am that person, and go to bed every night afraid that my resolve to eat properly will gone in the morning; my drive to set goals and achieve and set higher goals will have evaporated overnight.

So yeah, I'm obssessive. I get a serious case of ant-in-the-pants when I miss a workout. I get angry with myself when I have a bad day. But, damn, it feels goooooooood.

As I say in every post, I want to write more. Watch this space for reviews on some classes I've taken, race stats and photos, and monthly tirades on Why Perimenopause Sucks Donkey D*&%. And of course, as the hats fly into the ring, as the escalation comes to fruition, as the impeachment hearings begin (a girl can dream, right?), I might have a word or two to spare in that arena as well.