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Grumpies & Rompies

Even though i'm under the gun on three tiresome  lexcrecenses, i've been well determined not to let that adversely implicate my Campaign for Youth!  So, in plain English, i dragged my butt to the gym in mid-afternoon before the rain might start.

As i slapped my gym bag on the counter with a snort, Linda, the manager, asked how i was doing.  "Grumpy."  Eric, the 22 year old gatekeeper from Texas, said: "Is that old man grumpy or Kieran grumpy?" 

Kieran Grumpy? I've been here far too long....

"It's Kieran Grumpy," i said, "i'm turning 18 by the end of this month." 

Now it was time for Eric to snort.

But it will be so.  At least if le moi has a say in it; and in fact Linda made comments in the "...really good ..."  vein.

After my hour's "run," i took Nicki for his at the off leash Nooksack River trail. I've been wanting to use up a roll of black and white film and so i took that camera with me.  But by the time we got to Ferndale, the sun decided to put in a setting appearance. Fortunately, i took the digital with me. 

I don't have time to fiddle with the RAW file so as to bring out the better colours, but the uploaded foto gives an idea of the rural loveliness of this area.

It was lovely for Nicki too in his pan-sensory way. For him romping is nothing like the stupid elliptical machine but a species of gesamptlaufwerk  made up of running, sniffing, loping, muddying, chasing, splashing, poking and (more than once) trying to get me to go down to the river. 

Participation

      

"The Germans" from Canada made it past the Homeland Security Perimeter and arrived at our place around 8:00 p.m.  As usual, upon hearing the bell ring, Nicki began prancing excitedly in the hallway and eagerly ran to and sniffed our guests when they arrived.

Hans und Helga have been dropping by ever since i got Nicki  going on two years ago.  The first time they met him, Nicki did his fight and flight routine scaring poor Hans up the wall.  Over time and with each visit, Nicki got calmer until last time, rather than stare suspiciously from a corner, he plopped himself down near the table with his head on his paws listening in his alert but impassive doggie way to our incomprehensible human babble.

Tonight, however, he wanted to participate. First he plopped a ball by the foot of my chair.  When i ignored that, he went to my office and retrieved a manila envelope from the trash can.  Then he retrieved a platic zip lock. Finally he got another ball which he again dropped at the foot of my chair.

This time I threw it down the hallway and he happily scampered after it. He brought it back to Helga who threw it again and then back to me before leaving us to resume our babble while he sat nearby earnestly gnawing his ball.

"He's come a long way," Helga said, "Ja?"

Ja.

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A Warm Day in the Rainbelt

Summer Evening

We've been having unseasonably warm weather.   I  don't mind.   I get to do things like paint my Jeep's bumper and take Mr. Nicki for interminable chuck-fetch sessions in the "Oshin." 

Mr. Wasser Doggie After the Paddling

The Meaning of Exubrance

There is no question but that Nicki loves balls.  He loves them on the trail.  He loves them on the green.  He loves them in the sea.   And he loves them in soccer practice.
   

After gym today, i took Nicki for his pad-about at Cornwall Park.  We followed our usual route along the wooded trails before turning out onto the vast center green area.   Actually i chucked the ball from behind the trees onto the green and Nicki chased after it.  

  

But at the far end of the grassy oval a group of three were kicking a soccer ball in the round by way of practice.  Nicki saw the BIG BALL and ran.  When he got there he ran back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, chasing after the ball as it was kicked from left to right to left to right to left to righ to left to right.

   

He was inexhaustible.  I stood there and admired his sleek hound-like form and exuberant energy

Poopy Chronicles

Almost immediately upon adopting Nicki, i noticed he had poopy problems. They persisted even when i switched from the complimentary bag of Krappi Kibble to a better brand.  I will forgo the details of midnight walkings, morning surprises and dribbling all over town.  Suffice to say that nothing really seemed to work, including the hassle of home-made mush.

All this was particularly stressful because Li'l Roski had rotted away from the inside like this.  

Then one morning, Nicki just upchucked his entire breakfast. It was so undigested it could almost be put back in the bag.  Instead i put it in a blender and chopped it up.  This stayed put.  So i decided to switch to mini-bits.  

Trader Joe organic small no-corn kibble made a big improvement, at least in terms of midnight outings,  but rear end results were otherwise mixed.   

Finally, on the separate recommendations of two dogpersons, i tried a ZERO GRAIN  Taste of the Wild.  Almost overnight Nicki's poop went to small, firm, dry.  He also lost his "doggie breath" or at least traded it for one that was light and pleasant.    

Taste of the Wild comes in Fish, Foul and Hoof versions.  It basically consists of dessicated meat with some veggies and potatoes as well as mineral and vitamins. As it turns out, Labs do have a tendency to sensitive stomachs, so i grind half of the portion in the grinder, add water or broth and make a meaty smelling mush-with-chunks.   

It's $6.00 to $10.00 more expensive than a good no-corn brand, but it's worth it.  Aside from the fact that Nicki loves it, his coat (which was always shiny) has gone to sparkling.  He was never fat, but he's gotten even leaner in a good way.  My suspicion is that this will save vet bills later on; and i wish this sort of kibble had been available earlier.  It's a jolt to think that when we got Fips and Rosco years ago we thought Science Diet, which I have referred to as the Krappy Komplimentary Kibble, was a healthy brand.  :(

Geronto-Flex IV - The Principles of Geronto-Chi

The operative word on the Geronto-Flex front is NOT. 

We sprinted into the New Year at a full bore, gymwise, sneering (ever so subtly) at the crowd of resolvees who jam into gyms between January and March 1st.

Alas at the end of January I got my chuck-it elbow, and that was immediately followed by: 

FLU-A

Two weeks later, i resumed my elliptical aerobics, with very little set-back.  Alas a fortnight later,

FLU-B

About ten days after that, i again resumed my aerobics (avoiding anything that would re-chuck the elbow) with someone greater set-back than before.  Okay. Now for real, let's get this year started.

FLU-C

Usually i get sick after taxes; but with this years flu season from hell i felt it would be most very unfair if all my pre-tax flues didn't count for something. So I made a point of going back to the gym on April 13th. 

And so... we are back at it again and, all things considered, my aerocap is surprisingly up to snuff although i am being extra special gentle on the ligament front. In fact, as a precaution i am still bal-chucking with my left.

Working out is like dieting: it never does to do it with a goal in mind.  Just as eating spinach has to become a way of life, sweating, gasping and grunting for the sheer joy of it has to be a modus vivendi.  Just as people who diet in order to loose weight always gain their weight back; so too, people who exercise in order to get those bulging biceps always end up with a bulging stomach in the end.  Ontos not Telos!

Today's Canine Ontology

In this Nicki is a perfect example. I am assured that he never thinks of getting muskly arms and rippling haunchies.  But he has them; and he has them because he loves romping for its own sake. Whether on grass, in water or on snow bounding and bounding and bounding is doggie joy. Alas, men always have purposes in mind; but we try not to.

I am also trying to focus more diligently on the fourth component of exercise: balance & coordination, or as i call it Geronto-Chi.

As a younger man, in olden times, i used to pass geronto Chinese, in their padded Mao jackets, doing early morning Tai Chi on Chinatown's small public square.  When the light was red, i had time to take in their slow and careful leg-liftings, arm-movings and torso-twistings. I could see nothing absurd in these studied gesticulations but, being of a more kinetic age, i was more impressed by the geronto Germans who met every Sunday morning on Mill Valley's Lytton Square before charging up Summit Avenue to the crest of Mount Tam.  They inspired me to take the same hike, only i did so with a back pack full of sand.

The idea of charging up a mountain with a back pack full of sand is nothing i would want to ontos these days and God only knows what the telos of such foolishness would be.  And so, i am consigned mimicking tai-chi.

I say mimicking because i am not at all interested in taking a course or learning tai chi per se. My purpose (that word again!) is to do something that my body seems to need in a way that is both challenging and enjoyable (in the masochistic way that all exercise is enjoyable). 

No doubt someone like Galen would say that my ligaments and tendons need "hydration" to make them "supple" ... like Nicki's.  By hydration, Galen would not mean lots of tub-soaking, but rather something in the vein (ahem) of extending the pneuma that conduce essential fluids into the tissues.  Galen would not be far from the truth; and the way to this truth would be to stress and agitate the tendons in such a way that the push-pull of their iso-tension worked to pull at the walls of the pneuma and make them wider.

Well enough of ancient physiology. To make a long story short, i am working on balance and isometrics in combination with joint flexing.  This is something i have fun experimenting with, adding new twists and turns as the fancy pops into my head.  But i do so, soberly, slowly, advisedly remembering that an idea is good only in so far as it feels good.

I started this on the advice of two gym attendants who recommended some simple ankle and knee strengthening "balances" on account of a recurring soreness.  Basically they wanted me to stand on a cylindrical rail or half sphere.  

As i watched several younguns all but tumble and break their noses, i did not feel bad at my own shaky, trembling wobbling.  I combined or followed up this basic exercise with slow versions of warm ups and static katas i recalled from martial arts. This includes things like finger stretching and wrist rotations, weightless exercises and holding a position; as for example raising one thigh parallel to the ground, extending the foreleg 45 degrees and rotating the foot, while holding arms extended and rotating my wrists. It all stacks up to a combination of balance, isometrics, slow flexing and memories of bootcamp.  

I do it on aerobics day, so that it serves as a kind of 15 minute calisthenic between weight lifting days.  And, needless to say, I end with stretching or as i prefer to call it, puffing out from the inside. 

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