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A Roundup of Randomness

I’ve come across a random assortment of links and stories in the past week or so that I’ve wanted to feature on the blog, so I decided to just throw them into a roundup-type post. I used to do weekly roundup blog posts at an old job and hated how time-consuming they were, but our readers really liked them so I trudged along and tried to spruce them up with my standard Beccanisms. Below are some various stories I’ve come across and have found to be interesting — hope you enjoy them! Kenny Powers is the Perfect Spokesperson for K-Swiss If you’re not familiar with Eastbound and Down, you should definitely watch it. The show’s about a crass ex-baseball player who becomes a gym teacher despite his ignorance about the fact that his professional pitching career is over. I’ve blogged in the past about how much I’ve enjoyed K-Swiss’s ads (and I have a super-comfy pair of K-Swiss shoes that I wear more for fashion purposes than for running), but this current fake commercial combines Kenny Powers, K-Swiss, and crass humor to create an amusing pitch meeting (language NSFW). Kenny Powers Gets Signed By K-Swiss – watch more funny videos And I Thought Jason’s Injuries Were Bad I shared some of the carnage from Jason’s recent bike crash, but I readily admit that they were nowhere near as bad as this guy’s (caution: NSFW). Apparently he was riding with a group of cyclists when the guy in front of him ran over a tree branch that flipped up and impaled him in the shin. What the crap! How fast were these guys riding, like 85 miles per hour? The article has lots of graphic photos of the clearly morphined-up cyclist laying in a hospital bed with a freaking tree sticking out of his leg. I hate this sport. The Classy Way to Win an Ironman Race Professional triathlete Julie Dibens recently won the Ironman 70.3 in Boulder, but she waited five minutes before crossing the finish line to ensure that the females who finish behind her get to have a prize purse. The reason is due to some bullshit rule change stating that professional Ironman triathletes must be within 8% of the winner’s time to collect their prize money. This rule makes no sense other than to screw over other podium winners because Ironman is too cheap to guarantee them a purse and rewarding their excellence. Your placement should guarantee you some money if there’s a prize pool set aside for that place, regardless of how far behind the leader you are. Julie Dibens is a class act, and I hope other Ironman winners follow suit and take care of their fellow triathletes. A Blast from the Past A triathlon website recently took a look at an issue of Triathlete magazine from 1984 and laughed at some of the absurd recommendations and equipment being featured. I like the image of the dude trying to clean his bike off in the bath tub — apparently a hose was too forward-thinking in the mid-80’s. The dude with the sweet ‘stache perched in the thinker’s pose atop a Cannondale frame is pretty awesome too. “Hey Baby, What’s Your Age Group?” Jason came across this post called Tips for Dating Endurance Athletes, and while the list itself is a bit hard on the eyes, it has some amusing gems like “‘I find fulfillment in charitable work’ really means ‘If I am not racing, I am volunteering or cheering on my buddies, and I expect you to be there alongside me as I stand out in 90 degree weather for 8 hours handing out...
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This Snow is Workout-Blocking Me…or That’s My Excuse, Anyway

A couple weeks ago I was all gung-ho about making my triumphant return to working out (once you get to know me you’ll realize that I have a lot of “triumphant returns” to exercising). After my last race at the end of September, I took a couple months off to sit on my ass and get fat (I succeeded too!). I wanted to get back into serious training for the ’09 season, so I started running, cycling, and killing my triceps in order to get all aggro about exercising again. That lasted about a week until Jason and I both got sick at the same time. I pretty much caught whatever had been circulating around our office for the past couple weeks (ah, the perks of working in a confined environment). You know how it is when you’re sick — you want nothing to do with any sort of physical activity whatsoever and are content to curl up on the couch and watch The Price is Right, sniffling and shouting at the contestants for bidding too high. While we were sick Jason and I pretty much sat on our asses and watched various terrible reality TV shows (we recently discovered the train wreck awesomeness that is The Bad Girls Club and holy shit, those girls be crazy). Once we were both on the mend Jason and I were all “Time to get serious, yo.” I was all geared up to go to Tuesday’s evening track practice and make my triumphant return (cue the trumpets). Jason went in the morning and gave me the following feedback: It was freakin’ cold It was really freakin’ cold A stretch of the track was covered in ice, making running quite treacherous Seriously, it was cold. Jason had to borrow tiny Tracy‘s gloves so his fingers wouldn’t freeze off. I’m pretty sure the gloves are now stretched beyond repair. I had miserable expectations for the evening track, but I didn’t have a chance to experience how cold and icy it was going to be–the extremely low temperatures prompted Teresa to cancel track. (Postpone the trumpets.) Attempt #2 at our Triumphant Return was on Thursday. Jason and I signed up for an early morning interval cycling class and dry land swim conditioning. We set our alarm for 6 am and got everything ready the night before. At 5:40 am we were both awakened to the loudest fricking clap of thunder imaginable. We both sprang out of bed and uttered a simultaneous “Whoa.” He got up and looked out the window but saw nothing. We figured it was going to start raining and would probably freeze and make the roads slick. After climbing back into bed we heard another huge clap of thunder and anticipated the sound of falling rain next…but instead it was silent. Hmm… A minute later my phone vibrated. It was Teresa texting me to say that it was snowing like crazy over in West Seattle so she was canceling classes. I said, “That’s weird, how is it snowing in West Seattle but not here?” Jason’s response: “Holy crap!” I looked out the window and saw blurs of white. In the 5 minutes between our first glimpse out the window and checking my phone, it had started snowing buckets. It was as if the sky farted and started pooping out snow. We got a crapload of snow on Thursday and couldn’t work out because the Y closed and because we couldn’t run anywhere without rolling an ankle or slipping and cracking our heads open (which I’ll fully admit is something I’m prone to doing even when the weather is perfect). Aside from a...
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