Cross-training is paying off

If I were critiquing my running and swimming routine over the past couple years, I'd give myself a pat on the back for staying with it. Rarely a week goes by that I don't run twice and swim twice; the challenge is adding a fifth (and sometimes sixth) day of weights. But lately it feels like I've been exercising at the same pace. Kinda boring.

This weekend, for some reason, I seemed to experience a minor breakthrough. Since leaving the old Y and joining LA Fitness, which has a salt water pool and a longer length, I've become a stronger swimmer -- i.e., I'm covering the same distance with fewer strokes. The extra stamina translates to an easier run, exemplified by today's invigorating run in Forest Park. I covered 7 miles in a little over an hour, with a gentle mist in my face, and it really felt effortless.

Make no mistake. I'm still no speed burner. But I can see where pushing myself a little harder is paying off in the pool and on the streets -- or, in this case, the dirt/gravel path that characterizes Leif Erickson Drive as it winds its way through Forest Park.

Photograph by dothezonk

Lights out

NECC

Earlier this week, we signed up to become members of LA | Fitness. It was a long time coming but it made sense for a number of reasons.

Although Lori owns her own gym, there's limited time and space for her to work out, considering that she has two trainers, a yoga instructor and a massage therapist in there at different hours as subcontractors. As for me, I've kept my membership at the Northeast Community Center (the old YMCA) in our former neighborhood, out of loyalty and a fondness for the old-school vibe. It is, after all, the gym where our kids played Y basketball and indoor soccer and where I continue to swim two or three days a week and occasionally lift weights.

By joining LA | Fitness, we'll get a better deal (just a few dollars a month more for the two of us versus my dues at NECC) and it'll be just four blocks from our home, with expanded hours and newer facilities. Plus, we can go together from time to time.

I suppose it was inevitable that we'd make the switch. Two things happened this week that made me realize it was time:
-- After a swim on Monday, I went to the sauna, noticed the room was pitch black and flicked on the switch. Nothing. Just a deep voice from the darkness. "The light's out. You can come in." Uh, OK. "Where, exactly, are you? Top bench? Lower bench?"
-- Thursday, I got up earlier than usual and got to the pool about 6:10. Only other one swimmer was there, not yet in the pool, but then the lifeguard approached. "There's a water aerobics class starting in five minutes. It lasts till 7. You're welcome to stay." Uh, thanks, but no thanks. Not my thing.

Yeah, I should have known better about the schedule, but it was a reminder that I have to work around the times when the pool is not open to lap swim. That shouldn't be a concern at the new gym. Nor the lack of a light bulb in the men's sauna.

Heading out now to take Otto for a walk. Then off to the pool for the last swim of 2010.

Gettin' nekkid

Gettin' nekkid? or Getting naked?

Hmmm....

Let's consult the Urban Dictionary:

"Nekkid is not simply being without clothing--It means you are gettin' nekkid for mischevious (sic) purposes."

"The art of being naked; being clothless (sic) whilst performing humorous things."

"When ya aint got no clothes on and yer up ta no good."

Well, then, here's the story:

I went down to the old Northeast Y for my Sunday swim at mid-day. Happily, I had the middle lane to myself, flanked by one person on my left and one person on my right. I was halfway through my 24 laps back and forth when I noticed something didn't quite feel right.

I came to a stop at the end of the pool and peered down through my goggles. My tangerine-colored swimming trunks had come apart at the seam, just below the waist, and the fabric had pretty peeled away down my right leg to just above the knee. In other words, I had a gaping hole exposing my thigh and my backside.

Fortunately, it's my practice to wear briefs beneath the trunks so everyone was spared a cheeky view. I grabbed as much fabric as I could and stuffed it into my waistband, hoping it wouldn't come loose during the rest of the swim. Of course, it did and I had to repeat the procedure a couple more times.

The takeaway from this little story? On the one hand, it made me think back and ponder when was the last time I "got nekkid for mischevious (sic) purposes" in public? Does skinny dipping at a motel count? How about the soaking tubs at Doe Bay? Or what about that time... ? On the other hand, would I really divulge that on this blog? Nah.

I guess being "nekkid" or "naked" comes down to intent. In which case, I plead "no contest" to unintentionally partially naked.

Photo: Fotosearch.com

Ah, exercise...

Enough of the Ducks. Enough blather about our new townhome. Time to see if I'm still capable of writing short blog posts. That was the original intention, anyway, when I started doing this blog last spring.

Went for a brrrrrisk run Saturday morning (temps in the mid-30s) and then to the Northeast Community Center today for a swim -- my first exercise in two weeks! I ran twice while in the Medford area for Jordan's wedding -- both times along the Rogue River in the little community of Shady Cove -- but put things on hold once we returned to Portland. Too many things going on involving the move.

It felt great, especially yesterday. Not just getting some fresh air into my lungs, but also seeing familiar sights from a new vantage point. I headed out to North Mississippi and Skidmore, and it occurred to me that I'm going to have a lot of fun exploring new running routes, now that we've moved just a couple miles to the west. It'll be that much easier to reach downtown by crossing one of the Willamette River bridges. And that will give me an excellent view of the Portland skyline.

Photo: dogparkmom.com/blog/?p=302

Going to the doctor

Today I saw my physician for my annual physical. It had been nearly 18 months since my last one and I'd had no issues in between.

"If I were to give you a gold medal and blue ribbon," he asked, "would that tell you what kind of shape you're in?"
With all due modesty, I wasn't surprised. I began the day with a 6:30 a.m. swim, feeling fortunate as always to live five minutes away from the pool and know I have no physical limitations, whether I choose to swim, run, ride a bicycle or lift weights, my usual forms of exercise. My cholesterol levels are good, I take no medication, my blood pressure and heart rate are fine, I've never broken a bone or been hospitalized (except for that tonsillectomy when I was 2)...

So why was I turned down when I applied to increase my life insurance last year?

"Don't get me started," my doctor said. "If you see a doctor for any reason any time in the past year or two, the insurance companies will reject you." He's quit writing letters on behalf of his patients because they're uniformly ignored. He even had to go through several rounds of appeals to get his healthy 21-year-old daughter insured.

I bring all this up not to gloat about my own health but because it's so jarring, and so discouraging, to know the big picture in this country.

Today's Oregonian reported that the cost of family health insurance premiums in Oregon have doubled since 2000, outpacing increases in income by four times.

Between 2000 and 2009, the average annual premium paid by employers and workers for family health coverage climbed from $6,654 to $13,378, a 101 percent jump, reported Families USA, a nonpartisan nonprofit based in Washington, D.C. During the same period, the median earnings of Oregon's workers rose from $22,401 to $27,743, or about 24 percent. (See the report here.)

$13,000-plus for health insurance? That's obscene.

Earlier this week, my colleague Galen Barnett posted the latest raw numbers and percentages of Oregonians without health insurance:

--The number of uninsured in Oregon has increased from 430,000 in 2001 to 621,000 in 2008. The percent of non-elderly adults without insurance increased from 15.2% to 21.5%. And this number only considers people who are uninsured for an entire year -- it does not include people who have more recently lost coverage through the recession, or who had shorter gaps in their coverage.

--The percentage of people with employer-based coverage decreased from 73.1% of the population in 2001 to 69.7% in 2008.

--There were 393,000 employed workers in 2008 who did not have health coverage. The proportion of employed workers from Oregon without insurance has increased, from 14.6% in 2001 to 20.2% in 2008.

The anecdotal and statistical evidence are out there to make the point a hundred times over. Our health care "system" is broken. It's bloated by corporate profits; driven by expensive, defensive medicine; disgraced by its failure to cover more than 40 million Americans; and scandalized by bottom-line decisions that result in heartache or financial ruin for millions more.

A parting shot: Here's a link to a blog post written by a mother of a little boy with autism.
http://autism--tearsofaclown.blogspot.com/2009/09/to-health-with-it.html

AP Photo of President Obama, addressing Congress Sept. 9

A nice change of pace

Run. Swim. Run. Swim. Lift weights. Run. Swim. Run. Swim.

There's a pattern to my exercise habits. Generally, I like it. Today, though, I was inspired to break the routine with a bicycle ride through various Northeast and Southeast Portland neighborhoods. During and afterward, I had to ask myself why don't I do this more often?

At 6:30 a.m., it would be cliché to say the city is just waking up. No, there are people up and about; it's just that you see things at that hour that you probably wouldn't 60 minutes later. A few examples:

-- Cruising south along 28th Avenue, just north of Broadway, I came upon a shirtless man of about 65 to 70 fetching something from his car. I suppose if you're going to expose your pasty torso to the neighbors, you might as well do it when few of them are looking.

-- As I crossed Sandy Boulevard at 28th, I looked in the open door of Marina's Kafe & Deli and saw the proprietor behind the counter, getting ready for the day. She's an Eastern European immigrant who never seems to have more than two people in her coffeehouse at one time, leaving me to wonder how she makes it. Maybe I'll drive down there this morning and give her a little business.

-- Heading further south to Stark Street, I came upon a set of unlocked gates leading to Central Catholic High School's athletic field. A dozen footballs lay on the rich green turf and a solitary kid awaited the arrival of other players. A sign at the gate declared: "No sunflower seeds." Why anyone would prohibit that particular item is beyond me.

-- Turning north onto 24th Avenue, I noticed a metal sculpture on someone's lawn; an elderly dude in a bamboo hat with a fistful of letters walking down the middle of the street (not on the sidewalk, mind you), presumably to a mailbox; and a jogger (curiously, every one of the five I spotted on the ride was a woman).

-- A quick detour to 22nd and Oregon brought me to Urban Grind coffeehouse, where a worker was setting out fresh water in a dog dish and awaiting her first human customers. I had planned to attend an event there Wednesday (a discussion with three local filmmakers) but decided against it in the face of 100-degree temps. The woman said they had a decent turnout but they all sweated through it without air conditioning.

-- Riding parallel to the Banfield Freeway, I came upon a guy skillfully backing a tractor-trailer into a garage at the Pepsi distribution plant. Those drivers are amazing when you think about it, maneuvering multi-ton vehicles in and out and through the city and beyond, delivering their sugary products day after day.

All in all, I was on the streets for 40 minutes, but it seemed like only half that long. That's a good sign of a relaxing activity that I need to do more of. Gives my knees and feet a break from the pounding they take on my urban runs and, more important, gives me a great window into sights and sounds I wouldn't experience otherwise.