I want to know just how much nutrition can affect my performance without actually having to subscribe to a rigid diet.
Let me stop here and say that as I type this post, I am periodically reaching over to the barrel filled with 4 pounds of gourmet (not the Sport Beans) Jelly Belly jelly beans invitingly neighboring my keyboard to pull out a half handful and deposit the beans individually into my mouth, savoring each one -- except those lousy buttered popcorns. And I might add that for lunch today, like most days of the week, my lunch consisted of the $1.50 Costco Hot Dog, a Coke, and the available free samples offered near the freezer section.
That said, I have attended numerous nutrition seminars facilitated by nutrionists. I've got a pretty good idea what makes a balanced meal. And granted, my breakfasts are generally of the nutritious ilk (smoothies w/protein, fruit w/cottage cheese or yogurt, etc.), but my dinners -- particularly those following a workout -- are gluttonous enough to make hog blush. I can repeatedly disobey every voice screaming at me that the last set of stairs is not worth it all season long, but to win the "don't stuff yourself" battle just once is a minor miracle. Food is just too good.
I guess food discipline is harder than exercise for me because despite my gluttonous irresponsibility, I'm not overweight. And I don't know what advantage I have to gain from laying off that second or third can of Mountain Dew. And since I have in the past gone on 5 or 6 week health binges, eating very healthfully, but I've failed to observe any increased performance, I'm further convinced of the futility of diet.
So being that food is so good and that depriving myself of it appears not to have a noticeable affect on my performance, I guess I've resigned myself to my Hot Dog and Jelly Bean paradise.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
My 17 game winning streak against my racquetball partner came to a screeching halt last Thursday. We play 3 or 4 games each week, depending on time, fatigue, etc. He defeated me in our first game last week 15-10, scoring the first 11 points. I was really tired from the games and sprinting I had done the night before and it took those first 11 points for me to sufficiently warm up.
My racquetball partner's name is Paul. He's 57, my former Calculus professor/boss, and a former Minnesota state champion. In 2003, my racquet strings broke and I was unable to find someone capable of restringing it. After a few weeks of not playing, I just stopped altogether -- after having played once a week for 5 years. I mostly only played Paul, with an occasional exception of when he'd put on a little mini tournament among his regular opponents.
I did once play in the U of M Intramurals tournament. In the first round of pool play, I faced an atheletic kid named Eric Gruen. Our match went 15-14, 14-15, 11-10. If you didn't already know, racquetball is NOT "win by 2" and the tiebreaker is a game to 11. So I won, but became worried that this was going to be a lot harder than I thought it would be. Every opponent from then on, however, failed to put up double digits on me. That is, until the finals where I met Eric again. I'd like to think that if IM Racquetball tournaments at Big Ten schools were at the forefront of the casual sports fan's interest, this championship match would have been the lead on SportsCenter because I intensely fought to repeat history in dramatic fashion as our match again went 15-14, 14-15, 11-10. I won the tournament and a "U of M IM Champion" T-shirt, which I proudly wore exactly one time before misplacing it.
I bought a new racquet and started playing again this Fall after two and a half years off. Before this hiatus, Paul and I matched up pretty evenly. I'd even say he had a slight edge. After two weeks, though, I started to dominate him. I've probably lost no more than 5 games to him out of roughly 60 that past 2 months. I'm not sure if it's his old age or that I've started playing other opponents regularly now, but he doesn't seem any worse and I don't seem any better.
I'm trying to get into the racquetball tournament scene at a similar level to the Ultimate tournament scene, but I've only played in 1 tournament since returning from my hiatus, and it wasn't nearly as dramatic. I played in the B division and never broke a sweat against anyone except one lefty who couldn't hit a backhand -- and he embarrassed me. He maneuvered around the court for nearly every shot to get a forehand swing. I was depressed after having lost 3 games to such a chump. My goal is to compete in the A division by the end of the year, but that was a huge blow to my confidence. Maybe getting to the Open division before I'm 30 isn't realistic.
Next tournament, February 25.
Next Ultimate tournament, this weekend in Tempe for New Year's Fest.
My racquetball partner's name is Paul. He's 57, my former Calculus professor/boss, and a former Minnesota state champion. In 2003, my racquet strings broke and I was unable to find someone capable of restringing it. After a few weeks of not playing, I just stopped altogether -- after having played once a week for 5 years. I mostly only played Paul, with an occasional exception of when he'd put on a little mini tournament among his regular opponents.
I did once play in the U of M Intramurals tournament. In the first round of pool play, I faced an atheletic kid named Eric Gruen. Our match went 15-14, 14-15, 11-10. If you didn't already know, racquetball is NOT "win by 2" and the tiebreaker is a game to 11. So I won, but became worried that this was going to be a lot harder than I thought it would be. Every opponent from then on, however, failed to put up double digits on me. That is, until the finals where I met Eric again. I'd like to think that if IM Racquetball tournaments at Big Ten schools were at the forefront of the casual sports fan's interest, this championship match would have been the lead on SportsCenter because I intensely fought to repeat history in dramatic fashion as our match again went 15-14, 14-15, 11-10. I won the tournament and a "U of M IM Champion" T-shirt, which I proudly wore exactly one time before misplacing it.
I bought a new racquet and started playing again this Fall after two and a half years off. Before this hiatus, Paul and I matched up pretty evenly. I'd even say he had a slight edge. After two weeks, though, I started to dominate him. I've probably lost no more than 5 games to him out of roughly 60 that past 2 months. I'm not sure if it's his old age or that I've started playing other opponents regularly now, but he doesn't seem any worse and I don't seem any better.
I'm trying to get into the racquetball tournament scene at a similar level to the Ultimate tournament scene, but I've only played in 1 tournament since returning from my hiatus, and it wasn't nearly as dramatic. I played in the B division and never broke a sweat against anyone except one lefty who couldn't hit a backhand -- and he embarrassed me. He maneuvered around the court for nearly every shot to get a forehand swing. I was depressed after having lost 3 games to such a chump. My goal is to compete in the A division by the end of the year, but that was a huge blow to my confidence. Maybe getting to the Open division before I'm 30 isn't realistic.
Next tournament, February 25.
Next Ultimate tournament, this weekend in Tempe for New Year's Fest.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Indoor last weekend. MLK Tourney up in Duluth, MN. I had planned on playing with the club team with which I played last season (Ding Wop), but they had 17 players already. For a 5v5 tourney, I wasn't too excited to be the 18th guy. Instead, Truesdale brought up his St. Olaf freshman. My brother Joe and I elected to play with them as the 8th and 9th players.
I made the 2+ hour drive in the morning and was late getting there. I ran around, got a sweat going, and jumped onto the field. After 4 or 5 easily completed forehands, I threw my first backhand of the day that flew as well as if I had thrown a tourney bagel. My self-serving bias would probably influence me to say the disc made it to the receiver's feet, but it probably only made it 3/4 that far. I got off the field and didn't return until I had thrown 50 backhands. I never want to make that mistake again.
There's a phrase in Ultimate. If you haven't already heard it, you soon will -- mostly because I'm about to say it. "Hell hath no fury like Lou Abramowski's scorn." The St. Cloud team learned this axiom the fun way. One of their vets, Jack, was cutting for a dump while I was covering him. He had made one or two moves and didn't shake me, but the pass went up anyway. I reached out and caught the disc with my forearm across the top of it and fingers grasping the far edge of the rim. At about the same time, Jack made a clap catch that included my forearm. I yanked the disc free and he called a strip. I hate the rules in this scenario because there's nothing the defense can do. O retains possession. I argued, noting that he had caught my arm, but that lasted about 2 seconds when I realized there was nothing to come of it. I didn't bother contesting because I wanted to be on the mark. Sure enough, I got the point block [insert "disc never lies" comment] and bolted deep. Truesdale hung a high floater and Jack got inside position and swatted at the disc. He got all of the disc, too, but I reached over the top of him and got a firm grip before the disc sailed away.
On the sideline, he complimented my play and apologized about the argument. I shrugged and said "eh, part of the game." In retrospect, I should have offered an apology in return. I know he wasn't cheating, but I was still blowing off some residual steam, despite already having exacted my "revenge."
TBA also beat us in as fun of a game as you'll get indoor. In OT, they came back to beat us 15-14 at the cap. Despite the loss, it's always nice to have that "this is why I play Ultimate" at the most unexpected times.
In the evening, we played CUT in the quarters. They beat us deep for at least 8 of their 13 points. The only memorable moment for me was when I was guarding Rupp, a long pass was underthrown and Rupp had the inside. I lunged in and knocked the disc away at the last second and he announced incredulously, "but I had it right in my hands!" He then added, "nice D," which I never expected Rupp to say to me ever in my life.
We met TBA again in Chumpionship semis. I think I set a personal best by having 4 D's in 1 point and a fifth during the next point -- 2 point blocks, 2 poach D's, and one just outrunning the guy to the disc underneath. I footblocked a guy on 3 consecutive throws during the same point once, but didn't have a fourth D. Sadly, we didn't even score the point in which I got the 4 D's. And I'm pretty sure all 4 of our turns were unforced. Even still, we defeated TBA something like 13-9.
Ding Wop stomped us in the Chumpionship. I missed 3 D's that were inches from my finger tips on passes that I tend to classify as "so bad, they are good."
Not that this is news, but indoor Ultimate is hard on the body. I don't hurt nearly as much after a weekend of outdoor. MLK 2006 might have been my last indoor tourney.
I made the 2+ hour drive in the morning and was late getting there. I ran around, got a sweat going, and jumped onto the field. After 4 or 5 easily completed forehands, I threw my first backhand of the day that flew as well as if I had thrown a tourney bagel. My self-serving bias would probably influence me to say the disc made it to the receiver's feet, but it probably only made it 3/4 that far. I got off the field and didn't return until I had thrown 50 backhands. I never want to make that mistake again.
There's a phrase in Ultimate. If you haven't already heard it, you soon will -- mostly because I'm about to say it. "Hell hath no fury like Lou Abramowski's scorn." The St. Cloud team learned this axiom the fun way. One of their vets, Jack, was cutting for a dump while I was covering him. He had made one or two moves and didn't shake me, but the pass went up anyway. I reached out and caught the disc with my forearm across the top of it and fingers grasping the far edge of the rim. At about the same time, Jack made a clap catch that included my forearm. I yanked the disc free and he called a strip. I hate the rules in this scenario because there's nothing the defense can do. O retains possession. I argued, noting that he had caught my arm, but that lasted about 2 seconds when I realized there was nothing to come of it. I didn't bother contesting because I wanted to be on the mark. Sure enough, I got the point block [insert "disc never lies" comment] and bolted deep. Truesdale hung a high floater and Jack got inside position and swatted at the disc. He got all of the disc, too, but I reached over the top of him and got a firm grip before the disc sailed away.
On the sideline, he complimented my play and apologized about the argument. I shrugged and said "eh, part of the game." In retrospect, I should have offered an apology in return. I know he wasn't cheating, but I was still blowing off some residual steam, despite already having exacted my "revenge."
TBA also beat us in as fun of a game as you'll get indoor. In OT, they came back to beat us 15-14 at the cap. Despite the loss, it's always nice to have that "this is why I play Ultimate" at the most unexpected times.
In the evening, we played CUT in the quarters. They beat us deep for at least 8 of their 13 points. The only memorable moment for me was when I was guarding Rupp, a long pass was underthrown and Rupp had the inside. I lunged in and knocked the disc away at the last second and he announced incredulously, "but I had it right in my hands!" He then added, "nice D," which I never expected Rupp to say to me ever in my life.
We met TBA again in Chumpionship semis. I think I set a personal best by having 4 D's in 1 point and a fifth during the next point -- 2 point blocks, 2 poach D's, and one just outrunning the guy to the disc underneath. I footblocked a guy on 3 consecutive throws during the same point once, but didn't have a fourth D. Sadly, we didn't even score the point in which I got the 4 D's. And I'm pretty sure all 4 of our turns were unforced. Even still, we defeated TBA something like 13-9.
Ding Wop stomped us in the Chumpionship. I missed 3 D's that were inches from my finger tips on passes that I tend to classify as "so bad, they are good."
Not that this is news, but indoor Ultimate is hard on the body. I don't hurt nearly as much after a weekend of outdoor. MLK 2006 might have been my last indoor tourney.
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