Let The Good Times Roll

New research from Rutgers University suggests that the combination of exercise and caffeine increased destruction of precancerous cells that had been damaged by the sun's ultraviolet-B radiation. The study of mice indicated that there is a protective effect from both caffeine and voluntary exercise, and when both are combined the protection is even more than the sum of the two. Compared with the control animals, those drinking caffeine had a 95 percent increase in apoptosis in damaged cells. The exercisers showed a 120 percent increase, and the mice that were both drinking and running showed a nearly 400 percent increase.

Putting aside the obvious fantastic news that scientists have somehow discovered how to get mice to drink coffee, this is also a welcome discovery because I will probably have about a 1700 increase in apotosis (whatever that is) based on my caffeine consumption alone. Add in the occasional run, and I figure that purchasing sunscreen is probably a thing of the past, just like dinosaurs. Only, not as scary.

Run Forest, Run!

So I went on what I thought would be a short little run in a regional park near where I live. It has trails and some hills and is very tranquil and woodsy. Certainly not the Oakland that everyone imagines.

Before I start off on my run, I double-check the trail map, grab my iPod with a thirty minute playlist of Goth/Country music, and take a final swig of water.

Now I should probably note that even though I've run this park a few times before, I tried a different trail each time so I can't say I'm extremely familiar with all the trails. I am familiar with the parking lot as well as the first mile or so of trail, but it's a bit of crapshoot after that. But I figure so long as I head out and maintain a steady circle, I should be just fine. I think to myself "seriously, how lost can I get in half an hour?"

So I head off on the main trail, make a right and after about 10 minutes I'm running along here:


... make a left, and I'm on this trail ....


... or should it have been a right? Oh well, who cares. I'll find the main path eventually. There are others hiking and riding on this trail, so I pay it no mind and keep running ....


Wow it's really pretty today although this path doesn't look very familiar. Oh well, it's a nice day, I don't have to think about my job and can just think about nothing. Hmmm, am I already getting near the end of my playlist? I guess it was shorter than I thought.


Okay seriously, where the fuck am I? I've been running for 40 minutes and none of this looks familiar at all. I don't have pictures of the actual trails I'm running on at this point, but they are very narrow and slightly overgrown with growth. It looks like the path below, but more jungly. (I realize "jungly" is not a word, but you get the idea.) There's no one else on the path, so my Donner Party survivor fallback plan is out the window.


At about minute 45 or so, I finally stumble upon what looks like the main trail. I keep on the trail until I run into the Chabot Observatory. Looking at the map there, I find that I had somehow veered *way* off my original path and am still a mile and a half way. Momentary panic attack aside, I continue on my way and finally make it back to the parking lot. And while I'm relieved that I won't have to eat grubs and berries until a rescue party locates me, it would have gotten me out of this crappy conference call I'm on right now. I guess I have to take the bad with the good.

Techical Difficulties

For some reason, this free website is giving me difficulties as I try to post some photos. I guess you get what you pay for. Oh well, so much for today's visual humor.

Today's "News of the Disgusting" is brought to you by my favorite 24 Hour Fitness gym. No, not the one in San Francisco that brought you the tofu hot dog story. Rather it's the one in Oakland that brought you this post as well as this rant. Just so everyone's clear on which freak show scene I'm talking about.

To set the scene, I go to wash my hands after using the restroom (as everyone should do, although not everyone follows this simple rule for some disgusting reason). Anyway, they don't have paper towels - ironically for sanitation reasons -- but instead have those adjustable hot air blowers that you dry your hands under. As I turn to go dry off my hands, I look over and see that some dude has turned the air blower upside down (i.e., aiming straight up) and is using it to dry off his package! He literally has his scrotum and wiener resting on the hot air blower as it's going full steam.

It reminded me of the old Mr. Bean videoclip:



My first thought was "what the fuck are you doing? Do you realize you are in public?" My next thought was one of utter revulsion. My last thought was "this poor guy could really use a Philips Bodygroomer if he needs a high-powered hand dryer to blow dry his pubic hair."

Fast forward five days later and I noticed that there was another guy with his head covered with a towel. He had his towel-covered head buried in the same upside-down hand dryer, attempting to dry his hair. At least it was on his head. But I didn't have the heart to tell him that one man's makeshift hair dryer is another man's testicle drying machine.

Tuesday Musings

Sorry for the delay in posting, but I've just been lazy. That's all there is to it. But I'm going to do my best to provide content on a more regular basis (tomorrow's jury duty notwithstanding).

Anyway, the highlight of my day was going to the gym, which tells you all you need to know about how my day has gone. And for some reason, I am invariably confronted with weird behavior and/or ridiculous workout "outfits." And the past few weeks have been no different. To wit:

* I am still amazed when I see people work out in their work clothes. I'm no even talking about the guy who happened to wear dress socks or jeans to the gym. I'm talking full on oxford shirt, khakis and dress shoes. On the treadmill ... and on the machines. And you can pretty much guarantee that they went right back to work without showering or changing. Simply awful.

* I am also amazed when I see people walking around the locker room after having emerged from the shower still wearing their workout shorts. Showering while wearing your shorts? Is this middle school gym class or what? Unless you're hung like a Chihuahua, there's no reason to cover up, not to mention the fact that you still have to wash the private parts. You know, by directly applying soap to the area?

* Yes, it is perfectly acceptable to wear workout gloves at the gym. No, leather gardening gloves are not the same as workout gloves.

* What inspires guys to completely shave their arms, legs and chest? I counted 4 people at the gym the other day who were slicker than an election year politician. Now don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with a little "manscaping" now and then. Trimming the carpet which is your upper back hair? Fine. But Jesus Christ, this shit is getting out of hand. It's not like you have an upcoming body building contest there, so unless you're part-Sasquatch, there's really no acceptable reason to Nair your entire torso. Ever.

* The last story still haunts me to this day. I had just finished working out on a Friday afternoon at a 24 Hour Fitness gym in San Francisco. As I walked into the locker room to shower and change, I noticed that there was a sweaty man with a think handlebar mustache standing completely naked with his leg on the bench, talking to another man, who was also completely naked. Okay, not that big a deal so long as they don't start going at it while I'm changing right next to them. No, what was troubling was the fact that the mustached man was eating munching a package of uncooked tofu hot dogs. One right after the other. In a locker room. And then, after consuming the entire package, the two of them headed to the showers, presumably to bathe in separate stalls.

Words do not describe how disgusting it is to watch a sweaty naked man eating tofu hot dogs in a dirty locker room. Even thinking of it makes me throw up in my mouth just a little bit.

It's not me, it's them.