I'm back at home briefly to take part in a couple of athletic events. I have a track meet tomorrow. Almost two months ago I had greater than average success in my hurdling events after downing a beer the night before. In the interest of science I'm repeating the experience. I have a bottle of Guinness ale, which I am dowing as fast as I can. It really doesn't taste all that wonderful to me, and I have to plug my nose to get it down. Then I have to find a good hiding spot for the bottle, because I'm not going downstairs to dispose of it tonight. Even one beer leaves me entirely too happy to escape my parents' detection and consequently be the recipient of an informal breath check. Tomorrow it will be easy enough to drop the bottle into a neighbor's recycling bin.
I'm going to bed right after finishing the beer and brushing my teeth. Then if my parents happen to come in to ask me something, they'll attribute my lack of coherence to being woken out of a sound sleep as opposed to being tipsy. My parents were relatively cool about it last time I drank a beer, but instincts tell me it was a one-time amnesty experience and that, were I to be discovered again, I wouldn't walk away from the situation totally unscathed. My parents will read this, but not for awhile because they're very busy, and it will be old news and the statute of limitations will have expired before they get to catching up on any of my blogs.
Lest any reader be of the opinion that I need to hook up with Alcoholics Anonymous, AlaTeen, or whatever rehab institution that so sucessfully cured Lindsay Lohan's problems, this is only the second beer I have consumed in my life, and I've never drunk anything harder. I'm experimenting with the idea that a beer the night before enhances my hurdling performance the following afternoon. If I totally suck tomorrow, I'll know that the first time was a fluke, and I'll leave the beer alone. If, on the other hand, I break any more local records the day after consuming the beer, I may have to consider the apparent cause/effect relationship.
If such happens, I may consult the director of my mental health facility, who does ot technically manage my case but does oversee my care. Does anyone know if a doctor in California can legally prescribe small quantities of low-alcoholic-content beverages to a minor for therapeutic purposes?
I relly don't want my experiences to turn into a Lifetime Channel movie entitled, "Alexis A., Portrait of a Teenage Alcoholic." I may not be able to convince anyone of the sincerity of my approach -- that I'm legitimately experimenting to see if the relaxation effect and resultingly better quality of sleep after consuming twelve ounces or beer, or ale, or whatever it really is, as I don't know the difference, can result in a stronger athletic performance for me. As far as drinks go, I'd choose grape Kool-Aid any day over just about any other beverage.
Furthermore, even if my research indicates that there is athletic benefit to my consuming a beer the night before a track meet, I wouldn't choose to drink a beer the night before each competition. For one thing, the impact might lessen over time. I'd savw my aaace-in-the-whole for the most important athletic events -- qualifying meets, league, divisional, are , or state meets.
Incidentally, I haven't a clue as to how consuming alcohol the night before a competition would impact my diving. I have two sports with which to concern myself. If I begin drinking before important competitions of both sports, I may as well make a reservation at the Betty Ford Clinic.
Showing posts with label and hurdling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label and hurdling. Show all posts
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Nice Diversion
Pseudo-Aunt and Uncle are in my area for the weekend for doctor's appointments and job interviews. Pseudo-Aunt has adult-diagnosed cystic fibrosis, and, because she and Pseudo-Uncle will likely move to somewhere in the southern California area when Pseudo-Uncle begins his residency this summer, she chose to begin treatment here since she had so little remaining time in Utah. Pseudo-Uncle had two interviews for residency positions. They're staying here for the weekend because one interview was Friday and the other is Monday morning.
Pseudo-Aunt's appointment was OK. It's not as though there appears to be sufficient lung damage since she was last seen about six weeks ago. The problem is that the doctor really wanted her to gain weight, and she lost two pounds even with drinking four bottles of water before she weighed in. She was sick twice in the past six weeks, which undid any hope of even maintaining weight.
Pseudo-Aunt and Pseudo-Uncle were both in slighly bad moods last night, she because the doctor ragged on her so much, and he because the doctor told him it was his responsibility to do whatever he had to do to make her gain weight. So he nagged her throughout dinner about not eating enough. I attempted to make things better by eating less than she did in order to make it seem like she was eating an acceptable amount by comparison, but that only caused Pseudo-Uncle to nag at her more, saying she was a poor example for me. Then he started hassling me about my eating habits and how I needed to gain even more weight than Pseudo-Aunt.
Today we walked around the campus I'm likely to attend next year. The director of my facility had obtained permission for me run hurdles and to dive at the facilities there. We all ran hurdles. Pseudo-Aunt is really good considering she'd never done it before. She's short but long-legged, as I am. Long legs are a decided asset in hurdling. We were both better than Pseudo-Uncle. Pseudo-Uncle dove with me. He has some natural diving ability and no apparent fear, but he looks somewhat like an ape in the air when he's diving.
It was my turn to pick the restaurant at dinner. i picked a "===== ========
rewing Company," which is a local restaurant I've been to with the director of my facility and his family. His daughter -- the one who's a complete brat and is supposedly a younger version of me even though I don't see the resemblance -- likes the restaurant because it appeals to picky eaters, which I also am. The Pseudos liked it well enough, although we had the same arguments as at dinner the night before. This time I wasn't even trying to pick at my food.
I'm staying with the Pseudos at their hotel for the next two nights.(I checked for bedbugs, as I always do at hotels. I've never been in a hotel with bedbigs as far as I know, but one can never be too careful in that regard.) When we got back to the hotel room, Pseudo-Uncle sat on one of the beds and asked Pseudo-Aunt and me which of us wanted to be beaten first. It was a bit unsettling to me, but Pseudo-Aunt whispered, "On the count of two, run right at him. We can take him." Even the two of us together couldn't take him (he weighs a few pounds more than the combined weights of the two of us), but he didn't beat us. He was joking.
We're watching an episode of "House." A velociraptor is crashing through the glass of the hospital lobby and attacking the people. More correctly, a patient is hallucinating that it is happening. We're actually semi-watching, and all of us are on our laptops. Pseudo-Uncle is remaining in the room under protest while "House" is on the TV. He hates all medical programs, as do all doctors, my dad included, which means that I have to love all medical shows. Being oppositional is hard work at times. Pseudo-Uncle especially hates "House," but Pseudo-Aunt likes it because she thinks the doctor who plays the character of "Chase" looks like Pseudo-Uncle.
Tomorrow we're sleeping late, eating brunch, going to the beach, and eating a take-out lunch there, then eating dinner. Pseudo-Uncle says that the effort of getting Pseudo-Aunt and me to gain weight is turning him into a manatee. I'm staying with the Pseudos until Monday morning, when they will return me to my facility before Pseudo-Uncle has his last interview. I'm going to fly to Utah to visit them in about two weeks.
Pseudo-Aunt's appointment was OK. It's not as though there appears to be sufficient lung damage since she was last seen about six weeks ago. The problem is that the doctor really wanted her to gain weight, and she lost two pounds even with drinking four bottles of water before she weighed in. She was sick twice in the past six weeks, which undid any hope of even maintaining weight.
Pseudo-Aunt and Pseudo-Uncle were both in slighly bad moods last night, she because the doctor ragged on her so much, and he because the doctor told him it was his responsibility to do whatever he had to do to make her gain weight. So he nagged her throughout dinner about not eating enough. I attempted to make things better by eating less than she did in order to make it seem like she was eating an acceptable amount by comparison, but that only caused Pseudo-Uncle to nag at her more, saying she was a poor example for me. Then he started hassling me about my eating habits and how I needed to gain even more weight than Pseudo-Aunt.
Today we walked around the campus I'm likely to attend next year. The director of my facility had obtained permission for me run hurdles and to dive at the facilities there. We all ran hurdles. Pseudo-Aunt is really good considering she'd never done it before. She's short but long-legged, as I am. Long legs are a decided asset in hurdling. We were both better than Pseudo-Uncle. Pseudo-Uncle dove with me. He has some natural diving ability and no apparent fear, but he looks somewhat like an ape in the air when he's diving.
It was my turn to pick the restaurant at dinner. i picked a "===== ========
rewing Company," which is a local restaurant I've been to with the director of my facility and his family. His daughter -- the one who's a complete brat and is supposedly a younger version of me even though I don't see the resemblance -- likes the restaurant because it appeals to picky eaters, which I also am. The Pseudos liked it well enough, although we had the same arguments as at dinner the night before. This time I wasn't even trying to pick at my food.
I'm staying with the Pseudos at their hotel for the next two nights.(I checked for bedbugs, as I always do at hotels. I've never been in a hotel with bedbigs as far as I know, but one can never be too careful in that regard.) When we got back to the hotel room, Pseudo-Uncle sat on one of the beds and asked Pseudo-Aunt and me which of us wanted to be beaten first. It was a bit unsettling to me, but Pseudo-Aunt whispered, "On the count of two, run right at him. We can take him." Even the two of us together couldn't take him (he weighs a few pounds more than the combined weights of the two of us), but he didn't beat us. He was joking.
We're watching an episode of "House." A velociraptor is crashing through the glass of the hospital lobby and attacking the people. More correctly, a patient is hallucinating that it is happening. We're actually semi-watching, and all of us are on our laptops. Pseudo-Uncle is remaining in the room under protest while "House" is on the TV. He hates all medical programs, as do all doctors, my dad included, which means that I have to love all medical shows. Being oppositional is hard work at times. Pseudo-Uncle especially hates "House," but Pseudo-Aunt likes it because she thinks the doctor who plays the character of "Chase" looks like Pseudo-Uncle.
Tomorrow we're sleeping late, eating brunch, going to the beach, and eating a take-out lunch there, then eating dinner. Pseudo-Uncle says that the effort of getting Pseudo-Aunt and me to gain weight is turning him into a manatee. I'm staying with the Pseudos until Monday morning, when they will return me to my facility before Pseudo-Uncle has his last interview. I'm going to fly to Utah to visit them in about two weeks.
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