Thursday, June 4, 2009

Slow News Day

I have a zero cholesterol diet. I've never had my cholesterol levels tested though. So I figure I'll do that, maybe this Saturday. Ralphs has pharmacies, and one near me has cholesterol tests. Maybe they all do. Nobody knows for sure. It's a mystery, like how pencils are made. They'd drain my finger of a quart or two of blood, pour it into one of their scientific contraptions, and bob's yer uncle. I view it as a test that I can prepare for. I'm studying up for it. I'm competitive that way. A few years ago the average level for American men was 215, I just read. Healthy is supposed to be somewhere below 200 or 190. I will blow you pigs out of the water. And never mind the mixed metaphor. What are pigs doing in the water? Wallowing, of course, in butter and pudding and greasy transfat cheesy things in boxes. Yes, I am aware that my imagery is somewhat infelicitous right now. Be that as it may, the important thing is what my score will be. Any guesses? I predict 120. Maybe 95. Or 150. I don't know. Nobody does. It's a mystery, like how they get tooth paste into the tubes.

Rolled Wednesday evening. Sort of an open mat thing, with a bunch of visitors from the east coast, here to compete in the World Championships. There must have been 40 guys there, lots of higher belts. It was a little frightening. Cuz I'm rusty, you see. And maybe I don't like to loose, a little. Played with a white belt that I'd known a few years ago, and a blue belt that I outweighed, and a purple belt from Virginia. Hot work. Very. Got them all. Someone had warned me about the p belt -- my size, 25 years younger, "strong" -- "he smoked me", said the brown belt who warned me. But he didn't seem all that strong. He seemed like he was used to using his strength. I got him in a triangle that I let go -- no point in squeezing someone's head. Then got him with a Americana. Maybe something else.

I seem to have internalized a lot during this year-long dormancy. I realized later that I don't have to just lose the triangle position -- I could transition to, say, an umaplata. I seem to recall that there are other possibilities. An armbar? That's new, a new mindset. And I'm generally more relaxed, more flowing. Part of it is just not wanting to use up my energy. It's not a game about strength -- it just uses strength. And being tense just makes me ache later.

I don't know why you haven't picked up The China Study yet. Not a reader? Or just too in love with your pork rinds and your cardiovascular disease? When you finally decide to not be so futile, take a look at p. 102, or p. 119, just for starters. Yes, it's just one side of the debate. The Paleo dude, Cordain, is on the other hand all for animal proteins and fats. It is a direct contradiction, as far as I can see. I'm going to have to read his book. Atkins is just insane and irresponsible and wrong. Cordain is right, in the sense of eating nutrient dense food. I want to look at his protein data. Because it would be based largely on animal protein, and Campbell, the China Study guy, maintains that zoofoods are just poison. I can see ways to reconcile the problem, but that's just me being ingenious. Let's start with the evidence, and then interpret, eh?

I'm skimming through TCS again because of my poor foolish father and his prostate et al. I had in the back of my mind the factoid that prostate problems are powerfully correlated with intake of animal fats, so I looked for the info. Sure enough. Dairy most especially. One of my father's ideas is that milk is a superfood. He used to drink a gallon a day. The man is a sack of phlegm. Not being mean, it's just true. Not infrequently he sounds like he's gargling butter. Snorting and hawking and spitting. You'd think he'd do more than observe the connection -- you know, do something like stop drinking milk. But he's addicted, he says. So instead he's planning on having his prostate removed, and in the meantime he uses a cane because there's some medication he's taking that makes him not have to pee every hour but ruins his balance. Something like that. What's that you say? I should inform him of my knowledge and opinions about the harm that milk continues to do to his health? You see, this is why I feel like giving up sometimes. You just haven't been paying attention.

I didn't really want to write about any of this. I looked for something political to play with, but nothing grabbed me. I just like to get something down every day, mostly. There's been too much about me, these past months. Not that you pay attention. I'm just your toy, an idle amusement that you give only fleeting notice to, then return to important matters, like how that sports team you care so much about is doing. Oh, that's just so exciting, sitting there watching them throw that ball around or chase each other with it or however it goes. But don't forget to finish your sour cream. Cuz eating is after all a form of exercise, and digestion burns a lot of calories.

I haven't told anyone how old I am, where I roll. Well, just that brown belt, because he asked, for some reason. I must have mentioned the ache. He's like 3 months older than me, so that's a big jokey thing we have in common. We're the two old guys. And I haven't taken off my shirt there, even though it's brutally hot. I don't know if it's more vanity or modesty. Strange, I know, but I would be noticed, and that's not what I want. There's a sort of double think going on inside my head, where objectively I know that I do and almost nobody else does, have abs and all that. But I don't really have a sense of what other people think about it. So I can joke about it here, privately, really, but in public it is not to be acknowledged. Except maybe I'll find a way to get my shirt off in front of my father. Cuz he never looked like me.

I don't know. Maybe that was a joke.

For some reason I'm thinking about the old psychology experiment, where a cat and a mouse were in the same cage, but separated by a glass panel. At first the cat was aggressive and the mouse afraid. Then the mouse was unafraid, then bold. When the glass was removed, the mouse chased the cat. My point is intuitive, but the connection is there.


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