Eat like an animal.

It’s a load of hogwash when immigrants claim exclusivity over their culture’s relationship with food. How many times have you heard, “Oh, my mom is (Greek/Israeli/Armenian/Yemeni/Aboriginal/Korean/etc), she’s a feeder.” Even WASPs, our favorite homogenized, flavorless punching bag of Americana, bond over their disdain of food. That’s still bonding over food. We’re animals, we bond over food whether it’s hording, pushing, confusing food for love, searching for that feeling of fullness to satisfy an emptiness inside, or starving the beast thinking it makes you stronger. Food is considered the 4th event of triathlon, but in truth we all should be aware of what we put into our bodies. Just like our interpersonal relationships, passive neglect is still an action that has consequence.

Harness the power of yams!

I don’t use gels, Gu, Powerbars, or Clif bars. I eat actual food, which means I have to plan and make my fuel ahead of time. I like knowing what I’m eating and after hours of training I find that it’s easier to force real food down my throat than chemically adjusted frankenfoods. I’m not some wacky food purist. If you can eat gels, Gu, or bars, go for it. But in my quest to go longer and drop my body fat I found that the manufactured products just didn’t give me enough fuel. Worse, they made me gag after the first dose. This is a recipe suggested by my nutritionist, Matt Mahowald at New Performance. You can play with it to experiment with flavors and textures. There is a distinct flavor difference if you use peanut or almond butter, with only a minor calorie difference. (Almond butter tends to have 10 calories less per serving.) Also, for this batch I used chunky style, which means chewing while exercising. Should be interesting. For this version I used Barney Butter, generously donated by Katie B and her sponsor. Let me know how yours turn out!

The Filet-O-Fish Challenge

Before I begin a humorous story about fish, here’s a more somber article about the shark attack that killed a triathlete back in April. It’s a much more detailed account of the victim’s joyful life, the people he knew, and the woman next to him at the moment of the attack. But since Julian requested it, why the hell would I eat 8 Filet-O-Fish sandwiches? In some ways, for the same reasons I do triathlons.

Santa Monica’s home for wayward swimmers.

A strange morning swim today as Konrad, leader of the speed circuit, was absent for the first time. The club got under way at 6:30am, right on time, but once in the water it became a very different story. People spread all over the route, and with large swells putting the buoy out of sight for minutes at a time, I found myself zigzagging all over the map. Couldn’t follow a cap in front of me – they were way off. Sighting was fun, until I discovered I was sighting the wrong damn lifeguard tower. Instead of getting frustrated I indulged my current obsession with triathlon bikes and fantasized about what kind of bike I want.

Chronic mastication.

I’ve been trying to think about a good Friday article for days now, but I’ve been completely preoccupied with figuring out how to carry around enough meat to satisfy my new dietary plan. I’m often pretty slow at recognizing the obvious. Today’s article is all about food.

 

Cycling: HIIT it or quit it.

Woke up late (again) with client appointments in the morning. Which means I only had 40 minutes at best to squeeze in a workout. Bicycling Magazine has a new article offering 15 tips on getting faster and stronger, and the very first one repeated what I’ve been hearing over and over again: High Intensity Interval Training three days a week yields as good or better results than equivalent days of long rides of 90 minutes.

Cycling – the long ride, and other expenses of time.

Happy fourth of July, everyone. Nothing stranger than forced, blank nationalism while our country disintegrates from the collective vote of a dry drunk imbecile for President. If every douchebag who hung a flag on their porch was an educated voter the country could be proud of something. Usually we watch the Culver City fireworks from our apartment, but since last night was Friday we always spend Fridays with my in-laws. It was an even more odd night. Odd because we went to a friend of my in-laws house for Shabbat dinner, which we almost never do. It was in Venice, site of fireworks and handgun shootings. We’ve done smarter things. Still, it was a lovely dinner, with great people, and only one unexpected landmine.