Slipped under the radar a bit, but where were most of the folks reading this blog (both of you) two years ago? That’s right, Carmel, California, watching me and Tee getting hitched. And of course, the morning after was the 11th anniversary of yours truly ending up in America.

Yep, 13 years ago (yesterday), my skinny (yes, it was skinny back then, it was before I discovered all-you-can-eat buffets and Mexican food) arse got off the plane in Detroit. Wow, that seemed like a good idea at the time. Thankfully it seemed to work out…

It deserves it’s own post.

Anyone who’s been in regular contact with me over the past couple of months knows I’ve been having dental issues of an English proportion. To sum up, I broke a tooth, had to get a root canal, went back to the dentist, was told I can’t get a permanent crown until I have periodontal surgery (which involves shaving bone and gum off from around the tooth, since the break went below the gumline.) In the meantime, I had to enjoy two sessions of root planing (where they go under the afforementioned gumline to shave out all the tartar and gingivitis underneath), and a few fillings to boot.

So today, at noon, I cycled down to the dentist for the last 0.2 miles of my dental marathon. The temporary crown was yanked out, and $1,200 worth of crown was megaglued to the odd-looking stumpy spiky thing. 11 trips to the dentist in 3 months (initial with x-rays, root canal, first temporary crown, cleaning, two sessions of root planing, two sessions of fillings, periodontal surgery, second temporary crown/fitting, and permanent crown) and something like $5,000 later, I’m done for the next six months. Checky!!

So let this be a lesson to whoever reading this. Don’t be like me, and only go to the dentist when there’s a problem. If I’d gone in for a checkup every year like a normal person, the cavity that lead to the tooth breaking would have just been a filling instead of two major (one of ‘em really feckin’ painful) dental surgeries and an arseload of cash. I know for damn sure I’ll be getting checkups regularly from here on in.

Ooh, and in other news, for anyone interested, the results of diet week one is down 4 pounds. 10% of the way there.

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Now playing: The Beautiful Girls – Under A Southern Sky
via FoxyTunes

Had one of the funner weekends I’ve had in some time. Ben arrived Thursday night for a long weekend, and Michael made the trek up from Ventura to hang out as well. Professor Mike was in the mix for an evening too, but bailed early for work – the pussy. The three of us are all going through adjustments, so to get together I think helped out a lot – at least it did for me. Nice to know that there’s always folks around (even if they’re miles away) that you can shoot the shit with and feel good around.

As to be expected, beer was flowing freely, with a field trip to Russian River Brewing and Bear Republic on Friday, as well as plenty of 12oz curls back home courtesy of the beer fridge. And we ate well too, as usual, with a big ol’ grillfest on Saturday night beating the shit out of substandard Lococo’s pizza the night before. We did manage to get a little bit of hiking in, out in Point Reyes, although hardly enough to burn off a beer, let alone all the crap I ingested over the weekend. Clicky piccy…

So I was driving Ben to the airport that Sunday night, talking over some of the crap on our minds on the way down. The drive home was sullen and annoying for me after I got him there safe. I’m furious at myself for getting so overweight. It’s not that I’ve let 10lbs creep on, I’ve got a good 40 I need to lose. What’s even worse was that I knew I had to lose 30 a year ago. And 20 the year before that. I’ve seen it coming, known I’ve needed to deal with it, and just… haven’t. That’s not like me at all. (Seeing those pics of me above didn’t help either)

So I got home, and had a sit down with Tracee. Neither of us are happy with the way things are – we’ve both chubbed up considerably, we’ve both talked about dealing with it, but we just haven’t – and I explained how upset and frustrated I was because of it. And, let’s be honest – I’m sure Tracee would prefer it if I looked like my old self instead of a lardarse, and I gotta admit, I miss the more streamlined version of Tracee I met back then. We’re on the same page, and we resolved to do something about it, starting immediately.

My beloved breakfast sandwich has been replaced by eggwhites, boiled pinto beans, and a little bit of Gimme Lean. Lunch has been salads, fruit, lean protein. Dinners the same. The beloved beer fridge is off limits for 8 weeks. Two days of soccer, two days of getting out on the bike. And the thing is, it’s not a chore. It’s like my mind’s finally got to where it needs to be to get rid of the flab. I’m not even tempted by the usual crap. Don’t get me wrong, a burger sounds good, but getting the weight off sounds even better, so in my head it’s no contest.

As a little motivation, I’ve set a goal. By September, I wanna do the Tabeguache ride in Fruita. 84 miles of hut-to-hut mountain biking over four days (with plenty more available at the huts afterwards), followed by a massage and comfy bed at the Gateway Canyons Resort. It got written up in NG Adventure last year, and it’s something I’ve always wanted to do. At $645, it’s a little steep, but the nice thing about this over the San Juan Huts is that this is completely all inclusive, and there’s absolutely no logistics needed – the outfitter does everything, from stock the huts to cooking the breakfast and dinners. Hopefully I can talk Michael and JB into it…

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Now playing: Led Zeppelin – Good Times Bad Times
via FoxyTunes

Aaaaaaaaarg!!