Before I begin, I swear that this whole weight loss thing is working. So far I’ve lost 20 lbs from my fattest sad panda state, and I’m roughly six pounds away from my tentative weight goal (which may change depending on how much belly pooch I’ve got when I hit that magic number). That being said, let’s talk pie. So when I trained for my first Ironman, I ended up eating a lot of frozen custard from Old School. It’s freakin’ delicious, and you can’t beat the fact that they have a new flavor every day. I’m not really a “sweets” person; normally...

Sunday was the Las Vegas Rock ‘n Roll Marathon, a race I signed up to do but unfortunately could not participate in because of my increasingly annoying Achilles injury. The last time I updated you on the status of my feet, it was the left foot giving me grief while the right Achilles was intermittently tight. Now my left foot appears to have healed but the right Achilles has gotten worse. It’s now instantly tight and stiff when I start running and is stiff in the morning when I wake up and hop out of bed (morningtendon?). At first I thought I could still manage to do the half marathon, but...

If you’re a serious athlete, you eat to train. I am not a serious athlete, so I reverse that mantra. Jas and I love food more than our non-existent children (those ungrateful little shitheads), so we train to eat. A big chunk of why I dutifully put up with working out upwards of 15 hours a week is so I can enjoy cramming poutine, frozen custard, handmade tagliatelle, and other unhealthy deliciousness into my gaping mouth until my belly is as bloated as Val Kilmer’s face. So, naturally, after Jas and I completed Ironman Canada, a vacation was definitely in order. And there’s nothing we...

Shortly after I signed up for Ironman Canada, I started doing strength training once a week with a personal trainer. My goals are pretty straightforward: I want to get stronger, slim down, and be able to do some pull-ups without flailing and looking like a sad little weakling. I have managed to get stronger over the past few months and the pull-ups are getting less tragic-looking. As for the weight, well… My strength trainer is a big nutrition buff. Shortly after I first started working with him, he urged me to write down everything I ate for about a week. I obliged and appalled him with my food log...

Though the term is kind of douchy, I’d call myself an equal-opportunity “foodie.” Okay, more of a food lover, really. The word “foodie” has a pretentious air about it, while I’m content to eat just about anywhere so long as my meal is good. I love sketchy burrito joints just as much as $400 meals at Fleur de Lys, and street food is just as delicious as [insert fancy dish with truffles]. Every year I even make a pilgrimage to Taco Bell, stuff my face full of grade-E meat and experience instant regret and self loathing. It’s been a tradition of mine for...