Marathon Monday

Many organizations in Massachusetts celebrated Patriots' Day yesterday with work closures, community parades and other such festivities. Patriots' Day also is when the annual Boston Marathon takes place - and I'd been informed that it's a big day of celebration for Bostonians each year.

Since our workplace does not recognize the holiday, I went to work last year on Patriots' Day, just like any other day. This year, however, I decided to take the day off and join in the revelry, mostly because friends were in town from DC to run the thing.

Cheering for marathons is kind of crazy. I'm also very bad at it. I met up with my friend toward the end of the route, and we watched out for Poochie, whose pace we were monitoring on the BlackBerry. Before he passed us, I noticed all these hundreds of people, running, limping and crawling by. Some were being carried off on stretchers and others simply looked like death. It reinforced that I never want to run one of these things.

When Poochie came running by, I totally missed him (like I missed Puppy in the Chicago Marathon several years ago), but I did get to catch up with him at the meeting point at the end and congratulate him on finishing. And re-qualifying for next year's Boston Marathon, which I can't decide is a good or bad thing.

Body image

Upon arriving to today's factory near Ho Chi Minh City, the production manager proclaimed, "You are a big man!" Every single time I go to Asia, people comment on my body. It's so uncomfortable, especially in a business setting!

This factory's senior management team is Korean, while all the middle managers and workers are Vietnamese. The Koreans are mostly expats on assignment, so there's a management dorm where they live, and it was in the dorm where we gathered for lunch.

Again, the production manager felt compelled to discuss what I look like, so he turned to me and said, "I like your body. I want my body to look like yours for the ladies. Are you married?"

I said I was not married, and he gestured across the table to the Vietnamese HR manager with the horrible teeth and said, "Cindy is not married either!"

::nervous giggles::

Of dumbbells and dumb blondes

The other night marked my triumphant return to the gym on weeknights! It was the first time I visited the gym on a weeknight since we returned to standard time so many weeks ago. It's hard to go outside when it's dark, y'all! Stop judging.

Much to my dismay, it was one of those nights I hate, where the gym tries to be all too-cool-for-school and throws a party. The DJ's music was too loud, the vendors were in the way and the two drunk girls who were playing with dumbbells and taking up my much-needed floor space were way too irritating.

These two, dressed in heels and dresses, were singing to the music, giggling, admiring their hair in the mirrors and playing with weights! I was hoping that one of them would drop a weight on the other, ending their revelry.

The worst part of this was that none of the staff seemed to care! I believe these girls might either work at the gym or be friends with someone "influential."

The old stomping grounds

Like my recent tease of a visit in Sydney, I'm in back in San Francisco for the blink of an eye.

I landed this morning, checked into my hotel and went straight to my old gym. It's been about two years since I visited this particular gym and it was kind of refreshing to see that little had changed. I recognized the reception-folks, a few trainers and I ran into a friend who was getting his lunchtime workout in.

It's an absolutely beautiful day, which makes my early morning departure tomorrow that much more difficult. I'm due to speak at a conference in an hour (the whole reason I'm here in the first place), so I'd best put on my suit and get downstairs to the conference area.

Good thing I'll be back in a few weeks for the holidays!

Harbourside run

Feeling particularly motivated this morning, I woke up early, consulted the hotel's suggested jogging routes, "stretched," and headed out for a morning run along the Hong Kong harbour! After some really uncomfortable first moments where my body simply didn't understand what was going on, I got into a rhythm and found myself overtaking other morningtime leisure-type athletes and old grannies walking to their tai chi sessions.

I followed the hotel's route along the Avenue of the Stars, past the creepy Bruce Lee statue and down to some clocktower, turned around and found myself back at the starting point ... approximately 10 minutes later. So, I followed the second, shorter, suggested route and found myself back at the start 5 minutes after that.

15 minutes of running seems quite sufficient, so I'm about to head downstairs to the breakfast buffet!

Sweatin' to the oldies

And now for a brief word about our accommodations in Berlin. Puppy and I are staying at a recently opened, "hetero-friendly" hotel in the Schoeneberg neighborhood. It's actually a nice place for the money we paid and we have a perfectly comfortable room, even if it is a bit small.

It has cheeky doorknob signs that range from the typical "Please make up my room" to the more unconventional "Please disturb" and it invites guests to have "memorable encounters" in the public areas.

After our segway tour today, while we warmed up, I decided to visit one of the public areas - the spa/fitness center on the top floor. The workout equipment took up approximately 20% of the available floor space and the rest was dedicated to lounge chairs, showers, a hot tub, sauna and steam room.

When I arrived, the elliptical machine was already taken and I couldn't figure out the stationary bicycle so I hopped onto the treadmill. Meanwhile, a bunch of older, naked men lounged on the chairs, enjoyed the hot tub bubbles or took showers, while enjoying the views of the city.

It was kind of weird, considering it's a shared area where women are also allowed, but I figured it was part of the liberal German attitude toward sex and sexuality. Eavesdropping, however, it became quite clear that many of the men in the area were not German. In fact, on Sunday night Puppy and I wanted to visit the hot tub, but it was occupied by an older, Brooklyn-type Jew (with a swimsuit on) who informed us that it was lukewarm.

Needless to say, my workout wasn't fantastic and I hurried it up so I could get out of there as soon as possible.

And that concludes today's workout

Oh dear, it happened again. And this time to my favorite Adidas workout shorts!

Lift tap lift tap lift tap

Ugh. I was that guy at the gym today. The guy who constantly checks his BlackBerry between sets. Usually, I leave all phone-type devices in my locker, but work was craziness today. And on the last summer hours day, of all days!

So, I lifted and tapped responses, checked for updates, lifted more, tapped more responses and finally got to some resolution. Hopefully, this won't be a trend.

Now I know how Joan of Arc felt

I just had a great session at the gym, not because my workout was particularly great, but because they played "Bigmouth Strikes Again!" I seriously got so excited and I'm digging out my Smiths CDs to burn to my iPod. I can't believe I haven't already done that...

And furthermore, the song came on between "Rhythm Is a Dancer" by Snap! and "Destroy Everything You Touch" by Ladytron. Good job, gym DJ.

Back in the saddle

After work yesterday, I had an appointment with a "membership advisor" at my local up-scale gym. Like other gyms in this chain, it's clean, equipped with fancy grooming products and has amenities like expensive spa treatments.

I went intending to do a trial and taking advantage of other trial memberships at other neighborhood gyms.

But once I arrived, I decided just to join on the spot. Who am I kidding? I had no intention of joining another gym and I didn't have the energy to pretend.

I may have failed at my plan to play "hard ball" with the gym folks, but I just hope to get my flabby ass back in shape!

It's neither temple nor wonderland

People here have absolutely no problem commenting on each other's physical appearance. From the subway posters encouraging women to lose weight to little Chinese people blatantly pointing at portly Americans to sizes that simply fit wrong in stores, Hong Kong seems to make foreigners super conscious of their shape and size.

Despite my own feelings of out-of-shape-ness, I don't think anyone here thinks I'm obese. Big, yes, but not terribly overweight. I'm a bit nervous, however, to meet up with my grandmother later today because I have gained approximately 15 pounds since I last saw her. And I remember once when we saw her several years ago, she immediately commented that my brother and sister had become fatter. I, thankfully, had been spared from any commentary. I also was probably in the best shape of my life at that time.

Over the past few days, I've encountered some humorous episodes centered around body image. For example, when introducing their production manager to me yesterday, a vendor representative said, "You will remember Mr. Wei because he's so fat!" And later in the day she commented that she knows when he's not doing his job because he gets fatter and fatter, thanks to being lazy and eating all the time.

This same woman also suggested I become a fit model for my company. I'm not sure how to take that, since the company makes only women's clothing and we had been staring at a size 18 dress form for our plus-size line.

And the other night, as I got my second dessert from the buffet (some ice cream to wash down a lovely souffle), my server told me, "You have nice body shape." This was a more humorous variation of the comment, "You take the fitness?" which I hear often from Chinese folks I meet for the first time.

Brunch in Brookline

Today was decidedly more exciting than yesterday, although I still managed to get a bad On Demand movie (G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra, starring Sienna Miller, who was terribAAAAARRRRRRRFFFFFFFFF).

I drove to Brookline and met up with Bullet Tosser and her main squeeze for brunch at a very popular little restaurant called Zaftig's. Since they live around the corner, Bullet Tosser added our name to the wait list in advance of my arrival. Unfortunately, I arrived 30 minutes late, due to a bridge near my house having opened to let in an ocean liner of some sort. Ah yes, another pleasure of living in the 'burbs.

No matter, we stuffed our faces with delicious food and followed it up with some ice cream (I got some hot fudge because it was cold out.), which I think motivated me to get in a little workout in our building complex's fitness center. It wasn't the best workout, but it was good to sweat today.

Couch potato

So, this must be what life without friends in the suburbs is like! After running all my errands yesterday (and successfully putting off the actual work I need to do), I found myself without much of a plan for the day.

I got dressed in my workout clothes, but decided that it was too cold to walk the 100 yards to the building complex's meager fitness center and I followed along to a "Fitness TV" workout offered through On Demand! It featured an energetic black man who led a group of decidedly unfit people in something called "cardioke" where people basically bounced around and sang. I didn't do the singing part, but I broke a sweat from all the bouncing.

Then, I watched a netflix (the only one at home, since I've been going through them at such a rapid pace) and two more movies through On Demand! I don't know who's paying for all these On Demand movies I keep ordering, but I think I'd go crazy otherwise.

Training day

Internets, please congratulate me. I finally did it! I somehow motivated me to go to the nearby Boston Sports Club and get a real workout in tonight!

Of course, this workout followed a big plate of baked ziti, but I'm not going to think about that right now.

Years ago, I was a member of the BSC's sister gym in Washington DC. In my twenties, it sufficed. And it fit my budget. But now, I guess I've become sort of a gym snob, because the BSC seemed to have old equipment, scratchy towels and an outdated locker room.

I mean, it was perfectly fine as far as gyms go (especially when I'm paying $20 for two weeks), but I don't think it could be my regular gym. Nonetheless, I worked out! It really hurt, and my poor body is truly out of shape, but I went!

Holiday stress

With Thanksgiving next week and Christmas shortly after, I'm starting to break out in hives from the holiday season. This year, my aunt is unable to host Thanksgiving, a tradition that dates back at least a decade, and somehow, my mother tricked me into hosting Thanksgiving for our extended family at my home.

True, several family members will be out of town, but I've never had 12 people over at the same time and I've certainly never had to cook for that many people before! It doesn't help that work has been heating up and I need to build various cases to get budget for the next fiscal year right about now.

I've been looking through recipes and consulting with Puppy about what is easily cooked when you're limited by having only one oven which will be reserved for a gigantic turkey. And each time, my heart races and I start to sweat a little, which is probably a good thing because I haven't been to the gym in eons.

And now that I'm house-poor, I'm going to research some artsy-and-crafty gifts for Christmas.

My morning walk

On Saturday, after I woke up, worked out and ate breakfast, I had an unspecified amount of time to kill before I met up with TurboBoob and her new baby. She was doing a yoga class and her timing was dependent upon what time the baby would wake up for her nap.

So, I decided I'd be very anti-Los Angeles and do the unthinkable: walk! My hotel was in Westwood and TurboBoob lives in West Hollywood, so I figured it would take me about an hour to mosey along.

On my way, I made a few stops: a Starbucks in Beverly Hills where three very tall, very skinny women waited in line after me. Clearly, they were models because they each had their hair pulled back in a tight bun and each had ferocious makeup on ... at 11:00am!

I also made a pit-stop in a very fancy Pavilions grocery store, where I had the great fortune of finding a public restroom.

But I didn't quite expect to walk through Beverly Gardens Park, a long strip of greenery that runs alongside Santa Monica Boulevard. It was really pleasant and I think I passed all of six people during the nearly two-mile stretch. And interestingly, the fountain where Cher realizes she loves her step-brother Josh in Clueless is situated within the park.

The google maps pedometer tells me that I walked 5.3851 miles from my hotel to the point where I got pinkberry with TurboBoob. And over seven miles when you count my return trip to meet up with Roommates A&J, Mahogany Sparkle and Lucy Ricardo at the bar.

I like to think this was a healthy, if unorthodox, way to get around LA, but I'm sure it was all completely undone with that ginormous margarita I sucked down. The one that was probably made of four cups of Fanta and ten shots of tequila.

Locker room talk

My gym is used by stuffy old businessmen-types and ladies who look like they "lunch" frequently. On occasion, a professional sports team may blow through town and use the facilities, but that's pretty rare.

Well, yesterday, after wrapping up my workout and getting dressed to leave, I overheard three very large, very muscular men who seemed to be of the professional athlete variety. Maybe they played arena football or something like that.

In any case, I was privy to their conversation about mutual friends who were "hanging out" with "freaks" who liked to take pictures of themselves using various sex toys. Apparently, these unsavory images of women atop large instruments were making the rounds through this team, by way of cell phones.

They went into pretty gory detail about various sex acts and the way these women threw themselves at these men. One lady, in particular, would bring teammates back to her apartment to have sex while her six-year-old daughter slept in the same room.

It's rare that I hear such graphic (and loud) accounts of sex in the locker room, so I finished my business as quickly as possible and high-tailed it out of there!

Evacuation drill

This morning, my office building conducted an evacuation drill, where all building tenants had to use the emergency stairwell to exit the building and meet at the designated "safe place" across the street.

I didn't think much of it, but descending 32 floors is more work than you'd think. Circling down all those stairs made me dizzy and my legs were pretty shaky by the time I reached the ground! Man, I'm in bad, bad shape!

Small town Saturday

Puppy and I are spending the hours before this evening's wedding exploring the Calistoga sights. We somehow managed to wake up early and go for a run (something I don't really do, so I'm quite proud of myself) and along the way we saw Calistoga's Old Faithful geyser, squirting above the trees. We also nearly ran over a snake, but fortunately we dodged it and swerved into traffic instead!

Post-run, we walked through downtown Calistoga, ran into Policy Wonkette, had a pleasant meal and did some wine tasting. All before 1pm! Now it's time to lie out by the pool.

Birthgay party

Saturday was Gymnocent's birthday, so Puppy and I hiked up a big hill to help him celebrate. He claims that he forgot it was his birthday, so it was sort of a last-minute gathering of all the gays he knows in the city.

As his pseudonym implies, Gymnocent spends a lot of time concerned about fitness, and the majority of the party-goers also were in relatively good shape. Hence, the majority of conversation centerd around "Which gym do you go to?" and we compared experiences with various gyms around the city. Totes gay.

Not so gay was the fact that the party hosts seemed to neglect to buy alcohol, mixers or ice! Puppy and I came armed with a bottle of vodka and a bottle of soda, which was consumed very quickly. Toward the end of the party, someone came with a bottle of fernet, and in my inebriated state, I decided it would be the perfect drink (since there was nothing left). Needless to say, it was a bad idea, sending me quickly to bed.