Movember -- Why Am I Doing This?

Movember -- The Why

Welcome to Movember. This is an attempt to raise awareness about men's health. While I think most of us know what the "right things" are, we apply them inconsistently -- at least I do. By talking about it every day in Movember (and growing facial hair -- hey, I didn't invent the thing), I hope to build a better set of habits. Each day I will post a picture of what should be a hairier and shrinking face. I aim to live healthier to ensure I'm here for my children longer, have the energy needed to help them in all things, and prove to my wife I still have a lot of testosterone.

We have lost a number of family members and friends to cancer.  Donna survived a bout of skin cancer 30 years ago.  There is a positively infinite number of fund raisers, awareness campaigns and media discussions about the disease.  I have to confess having two moments of paranoia myself, one ending with a very pragmatic doctor scolding me for thinking some persistent throat inflammation was a tumor.  But it is a forgivable self-diagnostic leap when it is part of our daily conversation.

Many years ago, I was fortunate enough to meet Dr. John Mikuta, a pioneer in the field of gynocologic oncology.  After he got a glass of ice and pulled the giant flask of pre-made manhattans out of his jacket pocket (he knew the hostess of the party wouldn't serve alcohol, so he took care of himself), he explained to me that medical science's understanding of the root cause of cancer had not advanced in 100 years.

 John Mikuta passed away in January of 2013.  I hope his flask is eternally full.

This was very troubling to me.  Think of the money we've invested; the researchers at NIH, Johns Hopkins, Memorial Sloan Kettering; the billions invested in drugs by Big Pharma.  It's humbling to realize that nature could guard her secrets this well for so long.  Or maybe just a realization that we're not as clever as we'd like to think.

Donna is always concerned that her cancer will return one day, so she keeps herself current on cancer research, treatment and trends.  She read an interesting book some time ago titled "Anti Cancer -- A New Way of Life".  The thing that struck me was the inspiration the author took from Stephen Jay Gould's diagnosis of mesothelioma.  Gould's doctor told him the average patient survives 8 months.  As a scientist and a writer, Gould wanted to know where to start researching on his own.  The doctor told him that none of the written material would be of much help -- certainly the standard "you're not a trained medical professional, so it will confuse rather than help you" dodge.  Gould didn't listen, dove into the statistics around other patients' experiences and took control of his own disease management.  He lived 20 years after initial diagnosis.  David Servan-Schreiber, one of the founders of Doctors Without Borders and author of Anti Cancer, had a similar experience.  Taking Gould's example, Servan-Schreiber managed his own process and lived 20 years with brain cancer before succumbing in 2011.

I am fully aware that these two anecdotes of extended survival times are not proof that managing your own disease, diet and lifestyle are causal.  But I am also deeply suspicious about what we know and do about cancer today.  The focus on early detection has certainly led to much more aggressive action than would be undertaken if we waited until patients were symptomatic.  Are we really extending life?  Having witnessed a dear friend deteriorate over the last three years, I wondered all along if she chose the proper paths.  She fought lung cancer aggressively and died.  Would she have died anyway?  Most certainly.  Did the treatments improve her quality of life, or extend it in a meaningful way?  We'll never know.  But I come away from all of this with one certainty only:  I will never put my life blindly into anyone else's hands, regardless of their experience and technical expertise.  Treatment is an option.  No treatment is also an option.  Diet, exercise and lifestyle may not prevent cancer.  But they are integral to health, so they have to be considered.  And statistics don't apply to me.  I'm going to die sometime between one of these keystrokes and 2083.  If I become sick, I will be the one to decide what steps are taken, not an actuary in a white lab coat.  I will follow John Mikuta's example and take care of myself on my terms.


Welcome to Movember!

http://mobro.co/glennthompson

Movember -- Humour

Humour

With a 'u'.  Gives it an air of respectability.  Aire.

I started the day off in a foul mood (the way I ended the previous evening).  Driving to work, I heard a news report from NY about Santacon.  I was unfamiliar with this particular event, which I think made it even funnier.  Santacon is a take-off on ComiCon, that ridiculous convention of all things from the Comic Book world:  the magazines themselves; movies related to them; TV shows; science fiction; science fantasy; straight fantasy; Dungeons and Dragons; World of Warcraft; and pretty much anything else that occupies the minds of 13-year-old boys...



...as well as larger, unevolved versions of the same.



Santacon, however, started as some sort of charitable event, but morphed into an excuse to have a winter boozefest...a veritable mid-term St. Patrick's Day, if you will.

So the WNYC news announcer, in serious "spawn-of-Cronkite" tone, said "The NYPD has asked bar owners not to serve alcohol to patrons dressed as Santa Claus".

This was enough to nearly cause me to crash.  Mercifully, everyone on Route 10 West at that moment was listening to the same program, because we swerved in such synchronization that it caught the eye of the one NASCAR fan on the IOC.


This fixed my wagon, as my mother used to say.  You'd be surprised how often my wagon was broken, according to her.  Perhaps it was a metaphor...for my ass.  "That'll fix your ass" works, but I'm shuddering thinking about what a "broken ass" would mean, so we'll get back on track...in 5...4...3...2...

Humor is an important part of my life.  I guess most people would say this.  But I think about it. Obsessively. Like a guy who went to a convention focused only on comedy.  What would they call it, now that "ComicCon" is taken?

I analyze comedy.  Categorize jokes.  Rate all-time comics the way we used to compare baseball players from all eras.  When Donna and I were getting serious (date #3), I put her through a series of comedy tests:

• What did she think of I Love Lucy?
• Which episode is better: Kramer's Kandy Kitchen or Vitameatavegimin?
• Life of Brian is the best Python movie.  True or False?
• Compare and Contrast: Moms Mabley, Phyllis Diller, Joan Rivers
• The Simpsons.  {just saying the name must evoke a positive reaction}
• Howard Stern is a radio broadcast imitation of Lenny Bruce.  Discuss.

The litmus test prior to getting engaged was the movie Arthur.  We rented it and watched it in her apartment in Maryland (we had a distance relationship at the outset, which is why things went so well at the beginning!)  I sat to her left on the couch and leaned back to see if she was laughing without prodding from me on which parts were funny.  (If you've ever watched an episode of The Simpsons or Modern Family with me, you know that I howl like there's a prize for maxing out a dB meter).  The Arthur test was on...

• "Steal something casual..."
• "You must have hated this moose"
• "It's what I live for..."
• and the pièce de résistance:  "Is this a joke?  Are these Polish girls?"

You know the outcome, because we're happily married for almost 16 years.  Better evidence is that she quotes Arthur as a matter of routine (e.g., any non sequitur in our house is met with "I have a brother who moved to New Jersey"...love it when my disease catches...BTW, message me if you know who said that without looking it up.  I'll be impressed.)

So I thought about how restorative that little Santacon laughter was for me today.  Laughter is the best medicine came from somewhere (albeit not from Big Pharma).

Physical effects

There have been studies done to determine if there is a physical benefit from laughter.  There are no definitive results, but there are clear benefits in disrupting stress cycles (like the one I had this morning) and breaking a bought of depression.  Hey, these are serious studies (and not by the guys who studied if "Ovulatory cycles have an effect on the tips of lapdancers...")  Holy Jebus, guys...if you want to go to a strip club, just tell her:

• "Honey, I'm a faithful guy and I don't do this very often, but I think it would be worthwhile if the boys and I had a night out at Stinkfinger Willies"
• OR, if that doesn't fit your relationship, try "We're working late...the boss will probably want to take me out for a drink or two to thank me for that...I have NO idea where we're going or what time we'll be home...but, wherever it is, there'll be bad cell reception."

Two endocrine response systems are particularly susceptible to stress:  the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenocortical axis (HPA) and the sympathetic-adrenal-medullary (SAM) system.  I'm not as lost here as you might think -- I buy only HPA-free plastic bottles now and nobody is more sympathetic to Sam I Am than I am (or was it pathetic?)  HPA and SAM hormones bind to and alter the effects of immunologically active cells.  This means your stress level can, in fact, hinder or progress disease!  (Oh, and there is that other stress-related health issue...that a lot of us, under chronic, crushing stress, tend to eat poorly, skip the gym, smoke, drink and take other pharmacological paths to deal with the pain.  JAMA mentioned that one, too.)

Psychological stress has also been shown to impair vagal tone.  I don't have the first clue what this means, but I am thankful Donna had good vagal tone when we were dating (hell, I wouldn't have married her if she didn't).



The good news is that this health improvement is easy:  allow yourself to laugh.  Find things to laugh at.  Then laugh.  Let's be clear: we all also say "I've got a great sense of humor".  No you don't.  You enjoy laughing.  So do I.  But a very small subset of the population is good at making us laugh (and those people are GODS).

But I will offer you this:  allow yourself to laugh out loud.  My children all grew up thinking the funniest thing in the world was dad's idiotic cackling on the couch when a funny TV show was on.  Now they're all Simpsons fans.  I Love Lucy, too.  I don't know what Puritan or Victorian impulse causes us to put three fingers over our closed mouths and chuckle like one of the Queen's consorts after she farts.  Open your mouth, push a lot of air out and laugh naturally.  It's the greatest sound in the world and the cheapest medicine with absolutely no side effects (except that your kids may go to school and ask their teachers if they "pop out at parties" and are "unpoopular").

BTW, today's little driving incident was not my first near-laughter-crash.  That happened in 1985 on South Broad Street in Hamilton, NJ (then called Trenton because Jack Rafferty had not completed his life-altering campaign with the USPS to give them a one-word name).  Jimmy Tohill, Scott Matheson and I had just seen Return of the Living Dead at the Eric theater next to the Independence Mall.  Driving away from the theater, we were doing what guys do...repeating every funny line in the movie like we wrote it.  "Send more paramedics" almost caused us to need some.  Irony in action.

Movember On!

Movember, Day 19 -- Men's Social Health

Men's Social Health

Wait...what?!?  Social Health?  Men don't need to think about this.  We just do it.  And it takes the following forms:

• Drinking modest amounts of alcohol and watching sports
• Drinking excessive amounts of alcohol, telling our wives (or the police officer) that we only had modest amounts, and watching sports
• Drinking enough alcohol to prevent us from lying about the amount, and watching women
• Watching (or coaching) our kids in sports (and drinking alcohol afterwards)

As boys, our social networks revolve around our neighborhood, our school and extra-curricular activities. As adults, precisely the same thing happens, but it is done existentially through our kids.  Because children have an innate need to go in a direction 180 degrees from the one suggested by their parents, this often takes us on a path we have not traveled on our own.  (Having daughters does the same, but that's a whole other 10,000 word rant waiting to happen on another day).

I had an introspective moment last night, thanks to Debbie Kirsch.  The history of that relationship begs for its own post, but that's a level of typing that's liable to rub my fingerprints off entirely.  I'll hold on that broad topic about one of my favorite all-time broads until I need to crack a safe.

Debbie Kirsch was the President and resident Director of Hexagon Players of Mendham.  Sadly, she passed away at a very young age in September.  She was the singular force driving Hexagon for the last 15 years and no one could replace her.  I don't mean that in the "kind to the departed" sense.  I mean that literally.  She was:

• an experienced performer, so she knew how to spot, develop and manage talent.  
• childless, but loved them, so she built a rapport (hell, a relationship) with about 300 of them (no exaggerating).
• a senior marketing person with AT&T, so she had a strong commercial sense that allowed her to manage and promote a charitable organization.
• employed by a boss who supported her extra-curricular activities.
• a giant pain-in-the-ass who could get people, including strangers, to do things for her (or, more accurately, the company).

When Debbie passed away, many of us thought that Hexagon would as well.  She had a large support cast, but she set and drove the agenda.  Her dying wish, however, was that the company would continue.  In lieu of flowers, the family even asked people to make donations to Hex (it's a 501c3 -- I know, because my wife is the person who incorporated them!  And now, a shameless plug (because there is no longer a shameless link):

Beyond my involvement (and Donna's producing, choreographing, doing publicity or tickets -- no performing...sorry...only enough room in 5 Hope Farm Lane for one giant ham), our daughters have performed in over a dozen Hex shows between them.  

So here we are, sitting in a room in Mendham trying to find a path forward.  Cathy Malmstrom (a long time member of Hex and friend of Deb's) gave a history of the company at the behest of its founder, Les Fredericks.  It gave us all a chance to reflect on the amount of time and number of relationships directly related to this small community theater company. And it occurred to me that it happened to my family accidentally.  Kate El-Kadi's daughter, Tara, was in a show -- Oliver! -- in 2001.  Hexagon needed male performers, so Kate called and said "you're new to the area...we know you have trouble making friends because...well...you know...so why don't you audition?"  I did, got an ensemble part and, when another cast member had to drop out, played a last-minute Mr. Bumble**.  

In the "way forward" meeting last night, the room was filled with people that we consider our friends.  Some are closer than others, of course, but we have had meals with all of them; all have been to our house (at least for a cast party or two); and we are happy every time we see them.  Almost none of them would be in our lives were it not for the existence of Hexagon; Kate's experience with my anti-social behavior; and that PIA-In-The-Sky, Debbie.

But this happened accidentally.  Surely, if I had not auditioned for Oliver! in 2001, some other local activities would have filled our time.  But unlikely to have been community theater (Hexagon is Mendham's only option).  Deidre has such a lovely singing voice that she certainly would have been a musician regardless, but would she be a stage performer?  Alaina wouldn't without Deidre's example.

More importantly, this is an arts and education activity in our community.  Hexagon has done summer teaching programs.  Debbie directed five Mendham Township Middle School shows (she was such an important part of that community that the Principle used the emergency notification auto-dial system to let every family in the school know when she passed so the parents would be prepared to talk to their children...I got chills typing that).  Our floats in Fourth of July and Labor Day parades won awards.  A surprisingly large number of kids who are Hex Veterans went on to Broadway and national touring companies.  And our first-hand experience with this was accidental.

The defining moment in our Mendham community experience was around the show Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat.  Debbie directed a free show in the Mendham Borough Park on a Friday night.  We estimate we drew around 600 people.  It was a great cast (I was the Pharoah who, if you know the show, was a thinly disguised Fat Elvis...now it makes sense, right?), a beautiful summer night and a very grateful local audience.  When Saturday night rolled around, we were in jeopardy of losing our only other performance (after two months of rehearsals) to a thunder storm.  As soon as the electrical activity started, the owner of the rolling stage and sound system shut us down as he couldn't risk losing his expensive gear.  We were about to lose a great opportunity, when Debbie had a brainstorm (trust me: inside that gray matter was a permanent, cataclysmic weather event like that 25,000 mile wide storm on Jupiter).  She got permission to move the show to Grace Lutheran Church.  We had no sets or lighting available.  Cast members got neighbors who were planning to watch the show to help carry costumes and props and walk them to the church (which is almost a mile away!)  There was no sound system, so I took another neighbor in my car, sped home and got some gear from the basement.  We set up a bunch of chairs, got the PA set up, loaded the CD with the music and fired away the performance.  The thunderstorm raged outside and the audience perspired inside.  During the emotional ballad "Close Every Door", Debbie shut the ceiling lights so we were completely in the dark.  One of the audience members pulled out a pocket flashlight and shone it on Joseph's face while he sang.  It was one of the most amazing things I've ever witnessed -- truly the "community" part of community theater coming out.

And our participation in this was all accidental (my personal qualifications to play Fat Elvis aside).  

So my Movember thought in the context of Movembering Hexagon forward is that we should actively manage our Social (and Community) Health.  Many of you already do this.  Most of the rest have plenty happening through your neighbors or kids.  But all of us should consider if we're doing enough...and value what these activities do for us.

Movember On!

**--In an odd twist, my last show with Hexagon was in 2012, around the time of Sandy, and it was Oliver! as Mr. Bumble.

Movember Awards Update -- The Movembies

The Movembies

Should call these The Crabbies, as this exercise has definitely drawn a crowd that walks sideways.

Some statistics before we get into the categories and potential nominees:

• 186 responses between FB photos and blog comments
• 22% of comments have been supportive (or posted by women I think are cute, so comments like "Knock this annoying s@#$ off, Creep" are filtered through Movembie goggles to come out "Knocks my s@#$ off, Clooney")
• There are only two (count 'em, 2) drinking references.  People are either being polite or assuming that calling it out is like saying Rob Ford likes to party now and again 
• There were four political references (three of them about ACA)
• Only 1 pubic hair reference (Art Feith)
• There was only one movie reference -- to Return of the Living Dead (thank you, Scott)
• More comments pointed out my lack of testosterone (6) than my advanced age (5) or general aesthetic disappointment (3)
• Mass Murderers were a popular reference point (Charles Manson; The Unabomber; Stalin; Fidel Castro; The Joker)
• The really offensive comments have come from women:
• Lori Quann ("I log on...and THIS is what I see?!?")
• Mary Kornick ("...made me jump")
• Kim Mastromarino (implied that I only own one t-shirt)

EXCEPT:

• Steve Gibson (who assumed that I lost my job, wife and heterosexuality all in the same sentence)

The Mid-Point Nominees

• Categories:

• Horizontal Hold is Off

• For the people who have sprinkled their abuse across a broad spectrum of categories
• Lori Quann
• Claire Palombi
• Shawn Hurley
• Tim Seaman
• Best Overall Joke
• Damian Proulx (for "JP Morgan Chafed")
• Celebrity References

• Bob Brabston (Barney Frank)
• Beth Brabston (Bates from Downton Abbey)
• Sue Marinello (Nathan Lane)

• Wake Me Up, Before You ShaveShave
• Several people took a while to realize what was happening, but the clear winner for delayed reaction is my niece Kim Mastromarino (November 16)
• Menage a Trois
• Beth Brabston ("I was told this was a picture of John Adams") and Bob Brabston ("I would not say he's out of the wino stage yet")
• 

Movember, The Mid-Way Point

The Rorschach Cloud

What do you see?  Many of you will see a cute bird, flying East, probably singing a song.  This might be true, but he's headed right into the compressor of a Pratt & Whitney PW4000 where the pilot won't even notice the shredding because he's talking up a cute stewardess (sorry...flight safety and customer happiness-suppression attendant). 

Some of you will see an angel, with full wingspan illuminated by heavenly rays.  Possibly.  But remember, there are only two real possibilities: 1) there is no god (and thus, no Rorschach angel clouds); or 2) there is a god and she is very disappointed in you.  Choose.

There is a bust of Beethoven facing East, but he's pissed because that asshole Mozart got the only movie about a composer that anyone remembers.  Well, at least he was played by Pinto.

No, it's actually Casper the Friendly Ghost, flying West, facing down carrying a killer of Old Style.  Positive, right?  Nope.  He's about to be grounded for six months for flying under the influence.  (And you thought the pilsner would pour right through his vaporous torso and spill on the ground?  That's Ghostbusters, pal...a comedy...with no basis in fact!  Sheesh.)

The point is that all of life's swords have two edges.  I have stayed with my healthy living program for half a month and feel great.  I have lost 7 pounds (and an inch off my waist...but no worries...I am not permitted to take pictures of my body under the Rules of Hope Farm Lane); my energy level is up; my mood is just short of ebullient; and I realize I can continue this fairly easily.

The Other Edge

Da f@#$ was I waiting for.  Ugh.  My wife and my twisted Catholic background have taught me how to find the dark cloud around any silver lining.  So this is the dark message revealed in Movember:  I am weak.  I could have been maintaining a healthy lifestyle all along.  I am capable.

I have always had my priorities reversed.  Treating myself is a white bread slab 'o processed meat sandwich dripping with mayonnaise (which can be scooped up by potato chips).  Being good to myself is sleeping in and having a fatty, nitrite-laden breakfast.  Rewarding myself is sitting out back until 2AM with a cigar and a single malt...hmm, that one's gotta stay.  Just not every week, 'kay?

Feeling good is a reward unto itself.  I accomplish more.  I am wittier.  I enjoy others more.  More of this...Movemb On!**


**- Movemb is a verb.  Shut it. 

Movember, Day 12 -- Exercise

  

22 1/2 Weeks

Yeah, I get that the movie was misogynistic.  And the only reason "John" was able to pull these stunts with "Elizabeth" was because the director knew he didn't need a script with Kim Basinger writhing all over the screen for two hours, and Mickey Rourke hadn't entered his drug-addled phase yet**.  How about that poetry in the character names, too?  "John" for a guy who treats his girlfriend like a hooker.  Downright Dickensian.  And "Elizabeth"...ostensibly named after the virgin Queen?




What does this have to do with Movember?  Absolutely nothing!  But any computer geek who saw 9 1/2 Weeks in the theater in the '80s can't put a number next to weeks without thinking of Kim Basinger and high Noon.

I mentioned my admiration for marathon runners while also pointing out my disdain for running.  Having not developed a taste for it at age 51 severely limits any potential that I'll change my mind on this point.  But my admiration for the participants (and I seem to have more and more in my circles every year -- good for you, non-Thompson people!) is the regimen they must follow to prepare.  Most put in 18-20 weeks, depending on their running capabilities at the start.  I see most running websites recommend 22 weeks for resolute beginners.  Given my need to stretch as high as I can to reach the bottom rung of the cardio-fitness ladder, I added 1/2 a week to that to be as conservative as possible (and to facilitate talking about Kim Basinger).

So I'm taking a marathon training plan (I Googled 'marathon training for zygotes' -- if that little baby can do it...), but modifying it to remove the long distance running components.  I'll put the same time and heart-rate effort into it, but mix up cross-training with running to keep the plan Thompson-friendly and ensure I stick with it for more than 9 1/2 weeks (aw, come on...you didn't think I was done, did ya?)

I did walk/run combo for 60 minutes today.  I'll publish a full grid of my plan later in the week, along with my vitals to track progress.  I'm good with plans -- this'll be the longest workout commitment I've laid out.  Pull for me...

**--Seriously, would you let this goomer tie you up?!?  

Movember, Day 6

What to do when you're in a social setting**

This is the main problem I face in maintaining a healthy eating program: the Blameable Backslide.

Blameable Backslide - n., (orig., Polish Amer., particularly those unwilling to accept responsibility for their actions)  An event that undoes a series of positive steps and can be attributed to someone else.  
"Glenn got his weight under a thousand before his attendance at the all-kielbasa party and he suffered an inevitable blameable backslide."

These take many forms:

• The dinner party with people your wife desperately wants to be friends with (because, well, she's not going to hang out with YOUR friends anymore...that's clear, isn't it?)
• The restaurant night out, because your wife had a rough day with the kids (particularly YOUR son)
• The {choose one} (reward/punishment/consolation) (lunch/dinner/brunch) because your (favorite/second favorite/most ignored) child (deserves it/needs it/is only tolerable with their mouth crammed with junk food).

In my case, the BB can be a multi-day derailment.  If I have had a bad lunch, a bad dinner is sure to follow, with some vague promises of "domani...domani..."    If I've had a bad breakfast...uh oh.

So there are several steps a weak-minded blamer like me can take:

1. Plan in advance.
• Make a conscious decision to plan your eating/drinking out.  It is far easier to be reasonably healthy without Mrs. Fattengotten's fried sausagonnaise staring you in the face.
2. Go Public.
• You'd be amazed how much people want to help.  Or, in the case of some of my friends, feel better about themselves at my expense.  Hey, whatever works.
3. Write It Down.
• Humiliation is the most underrated motivator in human history.  And once this becomes a habit, you will have an ever-present "do I really want to publish that I drank half-a-gallon of Cote du Liver wine on myfitnesspal.com?!?"

**-for those of you with social activities.

Movember -- Day 5

Training

Believe it or not, I work out a lot.  I know you don't believe me and I don't blame you.  

It's obvious I am not in optimal shape and I talk about food/booze more than my kids**.  But I am susceptible to periods of inactivity which always seem to be accompanied by poor food intake.  Note that I talk about these things like the weather -- it's something that just happens.  All I can do is wear a raincoat (or a bib).

And by "poor food intake", I don't mean shoving coleslaw up my nose.  It's sandwiches on white bread accompanied by chips.  Or late night ice cream (I'll see both Jerry and Ben in hell).  If I'm going to the gym, I'm unwilling to throw it away by eating junk -- but I have enough 1-3 week absences throughout the year to ensure I never really get to my optimal weight and shape.  I do particularly well if I have a specific goal (hitting the gym 35 times during Lent, e.g., to hang on to that last shred of undeserved Catholicism).  So I decided I needed something that would last a little longer than my "Look, Ma -- no alcoholism" 6 weeks every Spring.  Training for a marathon seemed like a commitment.
{waiting....
......
.....
.....
.....}
{done laughing now?}

I know, I know.  We both know I'm not ever running a marathon.  But I admire the commitment (if not the insanity) of the people who do this.  And, of course, this is the poor-man's Everest.  More and more people are putting this on their list of things to do.  Since I'm not one of them, I decided maybe following their preparation schedule (with a lot less emphasis on the running).  Apparently I need a 22-week prep (I am a resolute beginner at running).  To make up for the lack of distance, I will substitute other cardio.  Knowing my road speed (molasses in February), I can calculate the accelerated heart rate time.  And I will add in (or continue, more accurately) weight lifting.

I have made hard commitments before only to disappoint myself (or others...like the things I said to get Donna to marry me), so I am trying to be realistic here.  I am committing to one thing and one thing only: I will write down my intake and exercise every day.  I will try on the food, try more on the exercise and aim for consistency.  But I will slip and skip (the bad Muldoon cha cha).

I will, though, write down everything I do every day.  It's a self-humiliation factor.  If you'd like to join in on the humiliation -- and I know that you do -- you can follow my as EdMuldoon on http://www.myfitnesspal.com/ .  It's ok...apparently I need a little abuse from time to time...


__________________________________________________
**-This isn't true.  Unless you're talking about a single malt.  Most of them are more interesting than my kids.  Or a first growth Bordeaux.

Movember -- Day 4

Processed food.  As with any "movement", there is pushback.  Not against processed food, in favor of it!  You had to see this coming.  Corporations, besides being people, are organized to benefit their shareholders.  Many of you, like me, have spent decades working for corporations.  How many times have you heard some version of "Shareholder Focus, Customer Focus, Employee Focus...and the greatest of these is Shareholder"?!?

So the people...er, corporations...who sell us prepared food use packaging and messaging to convince us that their food is healthy.  The mere fact that it is cooked by someone else does not make it evil (with apologies to Michael Pollan), but there are two things we need to keep in mind:

1. Corporations focus on shareholder value, not customer health, so they will reach for sales, market share and profitability in any way they legally can
2. Processed food can take months to get from the factory kitchen to your home, so something has to keep it from spoiling

One thing we forget about the plethora** of brands available to us is that they are mostly controlled by one of 10 behemoth companies:

Again, this in and of itself is not evil.  But it means there is a huge focus on market share.  A family-owned company producing a single product needs to sell enough to stay in business.  An aggressive family-owned business may want to sell 10% more this year than last to grow the business.  But a corporation needs to show growth quarter-over-quarter and are only rewarded by the market when they achieve YOY growth of 20% or more.

So what?

So Kraft, with a huge market share in 2000, began to focus more on nutrition in an attempt to get ahead of predicted consumer trends in healthier eating.  Baby boomers were now between 36 and 54 years old, so they had kids, retirement and aging issues on their minds.  Kraft voluntarily added nutrition information beyond what was mandated by the USDA at the time; reduced salt, fat and sugar content in a number of products; and introduced smaller portions (like the 100-calorie Oreo pack).

Hershey responded by introducing S'Mores cookies in 2003, with more fat and sugar than the slimmed down Oreos.  S'Mores are a 46g bar with 11 grams of fat , 20g of sugar and 230 total calories.  Kraft's response?  Triple Double Oreos -- 100 calories for a single cookie!  When's the last time any of us ate a single Oreo and stopped?

David Friedman wrote an article in The Atlantic defending processed food and attempting to de-canonize the natural/raw foodies (Sts. Pollan and Bittman).  He has fundamental flaws at the core of his argument, however:

1. None of the Naturalists have said the math in eating doesn't matter.  Friedman tries to make Whole Foods products look unhealthy by comparing their caloric content to fast food.  True you can't eat 4,000 calories a day and expect to stay at your current weight, but that's a different argument than eating preservatives vs. not eating preservatives.  As I've said previously, we need to remember that weight maintenance and overall health are two different things.
2. Corporations are for-profit people...uh, entities.  We like the taste of salt, fat and sugar.  Put it in a product and we're going to buy it.  Panera Bread makes an amazing Chipotle Chicken Sandwich on Artisan French Bread.  It's got all of the right modifiers to suck me in (more than 5 words; a specific variant of an ingredient; a job title; and a European reference).  It's also got over 2,100 grams of sodium and 840 calories.  That doesn't count the chips I'm definitely having with this one.  We can say we're going to eat healthier (and I'm planning on saying it daily for the rest of the month...but not on Thanksgiving), but corporations will find ways to get us to buy things that make us feel like we're treating ourselves (even though we're killing ourselves...ah, the majesty of human nature).  And recall that companies like McDonalds make a lot of money selling inexpensive foods.  Herbs cost about 10 times what industrial salt costs.  Guess which one they're going to use?  Profits, not customer health, drive their behavior. 

Sunday:

• Breakfast 
• 8 oz Prune Juice
• Green Drink 
• Mid-Morning Snack 
• Mint Fruit Juice (pineapple, green apple, mint)
• Lunch 
• Green Drink
• Spicy Lemonade (lemon juice, cayenne pepper, blue agave syrup)
• Dinner
• Pesto pasta (thanks, Geri & Michael!), grated parmesan
• 3 glasses of barbaresco  
• Activity:
• Baseball w/Andre -- 30 minutes

Movember -- Day 3

Yesterday I tried to focus on fruits and vegetables.  I should start by telling you that I've tried every diet plan known to man: Atkins, Nutri System (when humiliation was an important component of their program), Blood Type, Weight Watchers, Zone, Paleo and LockTheFridgeTheresNoStoppingHim.  I long ago came to the realization that dieting to lose weight is math -- calories in minus calories burned.  It doesn't matter WHAT you eat.  Dieting for health, on the other hand, is different.  So yesterday was an attempt to get back to mostly fruits and vegetables.  I did fairly well (contents below), but knuckled under when the family requested Piattino's pizza.  There are five actual restaurants in Mendham: Sammie's Ye Old Cider Mill (think Peter Luger's without great food -- another post on this topic later); Black Horse Inn (the center of gravity in Mendham, held fast by $9 glasses of red wine); Aoyama (typical Sino-sushi combo with above average food and no liquor license); Dante's (wonderful little Italian place that most of us have come to associate with take-out food); and Mackenzie's.  This last one is owned (along with Black Horse) by the Scotto family.  They recently converted it to Italian, even though it's a four iron away from Dante's.  You'll forgive them as Anthony Scotto is part of the Villa Pizza family who own hundreds of pizzerias as well as a number of other types of restaurants.

One of Piattino's features is an 800 degree brick oven (they actually call it a "stone-fired oven"...I used to work in restaurants and have seen many a steak danced upon by angry cooks, so I will forego pointing out this grammatical error) that makes terrific pizzas.  Donna strongly suggested we stick to veg and it was a brilliant compromise.  Until Deidre decided she wanted the Prosciutto di Parma pie.  I am a sucker for food with a location in the name.

   
This breached the "no-meat" rule, so it was a short slide into the Salsiccia pie, which had fresh basil pesto.  Somehow, I convinced myself that the fresh green herb neutered the fat in the pork sauzeege.  These are also small pies (four slices) and we try to get our underweight son to eat dense calorie foods whenever we can.  So I had a long-carbon-chain of restaurant rationalization:  I've eaten veg all day (hell, it was almost vegan) so I'm off to a good start; I've got a green natural pork-canceller on the worst dish; my wife wants something to go with red wine, so I'm husbanding in an above-average fashion; and, most importantly, my daughter deserves Prosciutto di Parma and my son needs dense calorie foods, so I'm being a great parent.

• Breakfast (Grade: A- ... points deducted for the amount of water I used in the bathroom)
• 8 oz Prune Juice (correct...now I am less full of s@#$)
• Green Drink (kale, spinach, green apple, lemon juice, cucumber, celery)
• Mid-Morning Snack (A+)
• Mint Fruit Juice (pineapple, green apple, mint)
• Lunch (A ... points deducted because the tastes clashed harshly enough to make me call this a Cypriot lunch)
• Green Drink
• Greek Blueberry Yogurt
• Dinner
• 4 slices of pizza (2 salsiccia, 1 mushroom, 1 veg)
• 4 glasses of chianti (Donna's bi-lateral symmetry is contagious)

Movember is not all about healthy eating and whiskers.  More to come and thanks for reading (except you, Lori Quann...Bumbles have feelings, too, ya know).