Hawai'i One-3, Day 3: Beach Bums

One of the things we loved about our last trip to Maui was when we rented a cabana and spent several hours on the beach; just resting, enjoying the sun, maybe reading a magazine or two, and drinking a cold refreshing beverage. We definitely want to do that again this trip, but also want to supplement that with something new that we didn't do our last trip, so we decide that today will be a hotel-centric day.

We start the day early with some exercise -- Lucie goes for a walk/jog along the "beachwalk" path,

a 3 or 4 mile long paved path that connects several different hotels and the Whaler's Village high-end retail megaplex while I walk for a mile or so then do knee exercises that seem to help my mobility and range of motion. After we shower and get dressed for the day, we head out to the hotel's free breakfast buffet, where they give their temporary residents their fill of the standard fare (eggs, bread, bacon, Portuguese sausage, potatoes, juice, coffee) while talking about the commercial ventures available (snorkeling, Hana and Haleakala tours, etc.) with which they partner with other local companies. It's not timeshare-type stuff as far as predatory marketing is concerned, but it's also definitely not a free lunch (or breakfast) either. We do use the opportunity, though, to sign up for Kupanaha, the hotel's magic show, for that evening; and for a snorkeling trip for tomorrow with Trilogy Tours.

After the breakfast, Lucie and I sign up for some of Ka'anapali Beach Hotel's Hawaiian culture lessons -- we had taken the Hawaiian language lesson last trip, but have forgotten everything we learned. We also rent one of the cabanas on the beach, for later in the day. Our first class is in lei making; KBH's Cultural Expert and Guest Services Representative, Malihini (of whom we have incredibly fond memories from 2011), is giving the class. She greets us warmly, and we take our seats at a table covered in carnations. Using a special needle, we learn to string the flowers so they sit properly on the lei while Malihini tells us about the lei's importance and symbolism to the Hawaiian people. As is custom with married couples, I place the lei I made on Lucie's shoulders and she places the one she made on mine.

We're the only married couple in the class; in fact, I'm the only male in the class -- it's not golfing, and there are flowers involved. There are three other women in the class, and we of course hear a chorus of "awwww" as we place the leis on each other, and Malihini grabs my iPhone to take a picture. It's a nice moment, but unfortunately the picture is a little badly timed and makes me look like a technicolored troll trying to eat the face off a woman who just sucked on a lemon, so it's a picture that will NEVER see the light of day. Ever.

Our next class is a repeat of the Hawaiian language class we took last time. As it turns out, Lucie and I are the only people who signed up, so we get personal instruction by Malihini in the pronunciation, grammar, historical significance, and meaning of Hawaiian diphthongs, words, and phrases. The two of us do have a *very* basic knowledge of some words, so we ask questions as needed, and voice insights when (occasionally) relevant. When we practice the sound pu'u, for example, I recognize this as the Hawaiian word for "hill", and ask if this is the case, mentioning the area of Pu'unene near Kahului. Every time we do something like this, Malihini seems both surprised that we actually know about the language and happy that we're actually trying to embrace the culture. This might just be her job, to encourage the appreciation of culture; but it really does come across as true warmth and generosity of spirit. Everything about Malihini is warm and generous of spirit; and it's not just us that believes this...

After the language class, we head out to the cabanas and get our relaxation on. Early in the afternoon, our final cultural lesson for the day, learning the hula, is scheduled; Lucie makes a difficult spur of the moment decision to stay on the beach and make sure the cabana doesn't get blown away in the (beautiful, sunny, and windless) weather, and I head up to the hotel lobby for my lesson. Because I'm the only participant for this one, Malihini recruits another hotel employee, Rayce, to teach me a hula kane, a dance performed by men. Taking my bad knee into account, he gives me some basic pointers (hula should be performed barefoot, as the dancers are grounding themselves to the earth as part of the performance) and walks me through Kalakaua He Inoa, a traditional dance in honor of Hawaiian King David Kalakaua (ruled 1874-1891), nicknamed the Merrie Monarch, known primarily for fighting to preserve Hawaiian culture and bringing back the art and tradition of hula, which had been banned for religious reasons in 1830 by Queen Ka'ahumanu, wife to the first King Kamehameha (she took over as regent upon his death in 1819.) There's an annual hula competition in Hilo on the Big Island named the Merrie Monarch Festival, named after Kalakaua. Rayce chants the song as I dance (a little slowly and unsteadily at times, if I must be honest), and shakes my hand after we're done.

I've looked at other performances of this hula on YouTube since my lesson, and it's very clear that I was taught an extremely basic version of this particular hula; however, seeing as how I'm an old fat haole with bad knees, it ain't bad for a 45-minute first-ever hula lesson. I also manage to forget most of the dance by the time I perform it for Lucie later that evening, but it's a fond memory nonetheless.

After the lesson, I return to the beach, where Lucie has been successfully defending her half of the cabana from UV rays, and relax next to her for the next couple of hours. The sun's heat is intense but wonderful and relaxing, the water is that amazingly clear blue that one just can't find off the California coast, the other tourists on the beach are for the most part quiet and far enough away to ignore, and the beverages we enjoy are ice cold and perfect -- Lucie makes a trip to the hotel's deli store to provide for us, since they don't offer catering service out to the beach. It's a very welcome time, just reclining and enjoying the moment; doing absolutely nothing at all is sometimes the thing that is best to do while on vacation.

Late afternoon, we begrudgingly leave the cabana for the day and head up to our room to get ready for dinner. We put our best vacation clothes (my shirt for the evening actually has buttons and isn't tie dyed) and go to the hotel's lobby. Just outside the showroom, they preview the show with some decent close-up magic; classic tricks like the Professor's Nightmare (three ropes of unequal lengths that turn into equal lengths and back again) and the Chinese Linking Rings are done to an appreciative audience before the doors open and we enter. There's a brief line as the family groups are posed for the obligatory souvenir photos (which we of course later buy) and we're offered our beverage of choice (we both go with a blue Hawaiian) before getting seated at our table. Lucie, knowing my geeky appreciation for magic, has gotten us seats at the front row of tables, and in a nice example of serendipity our table actually ends up being front row center.

We engage in small talk with the other people at our table -- a retired couple from Austin and a family of three (a twentysomething guy and his parents) from Portland -- as our dinner is brought out to us. Our appetizer of Kalua pork (for me) and grilled veggie (for Lucie) bruschetta is actually on a soft flatbread instead of traditional bruschetta, but tastes fine. A brief tableside performance of the Cups & Balls by the same close-up magician as earlier is fun -- one or two moves that I catch because I know where to look and when, but a finale move that completely takes me by surprise -- and is followed by our main course. Lucie chooses the tenderloin steak and shrimp over mashed potatoes; I opt for the red snapper with asparagus over seasoned rice; both are good (not necessarily outstanding, but certainly not bad at all.) During the main course and dessert (pina colada cheesecake for me, assorted fruit plate for Lucie), the main stage show of Jody Baran and his wife Kathleen and her breast implants (with lighting support by their son Robert and stage assistance by daughter Crystal) performs several intricate stage illusions, with dance routines from a local hula halau as interstitials. The dance numbers are a combination of the traditional Hawaiian and/or Polynesian dances, with one or two modern takes mixed in (one in particular is a heavily World War II - influenced routine with accompanying outfits, as a tribute to Hawaii's home to servicemen, and possibly an homage to the upcoming Veteran's Day holiday.) The tricks are, according to Jody Baran, inspired by various famous magicians that had visited the Hawaiian islands in the last century or two -- Houdini, the Great Nicola, Long Tack Sam, Raymondo (for some reason my favorite magician name) -- and for the most part very well done. There's humor, magic, dance, good food, and family. There's a lot to like about the show, and it's an enjoyable evening well spent.

After the show, we briefly consider stopping by the outside courtyard for additional drinks, but we've got an early day ahead of us -- one of the few planned outings for which we have a timetable -- so we head upstairs to our room for the night. We can, however, still hear the live band playing music from our hotel room, so we drift off to sleep with a Don Ho song as a serenade.

Hawai'i One-3, Day 2: Hana Ho!

Our second day on Maui, and we're off to experience something else we missed out on our last trip; namely, the Road to Hana. This is not a secret eighth wacky slapstick romcom movie starring Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, and Dorothy Lamour; but rather is the name of the highway along the eastern coast of Maui from the port/airport town of Kahului to Hāna. Many harrowing stories are told about the trip, which is only 52 miles in length but takes about two and a half hours of nonstop driving to complete due to the road, which is incredibly winding, narrow, and frankly outright terrifying were you to try and navigate the over 600 curves (most of which are sharp hairpin turns), 59 bridges (of which 46 are one-lane-wide bottlenecks with limited visibility due to the curving road), old infrastructure (most of the bridges date back a full century, to 1910), falling rocks (virtually untouched rain forest, cliffside roads, and rock makes for frequent rockslides -- coming around a sharp corner only to find several coconut-sized rocks in the middle of the road is not uncommon), flocks of wild nene in the road (just kidding; we all know they're not real) and various other road hazards. Because I want to appreciate the trip and not be a nervous wreck the entire time, we make arrangements to be driven there by a tour service instead.

So early in the morning, we head out the lobby of our hotel and meet up with Eric, from Temptation Tours. He was our driver last time when we did the Haleakala Sunrise tour, and is a welcome sight for the Hana drive. Also in the luxurious and comfortable limo van are a married couple from Long Island, Michael and Valerie. In a wonderful turn of fate, they turn out to be very entertaining folks, and Michael's sarcastic sense of humor is very similar to my own, so we have a great time chatting and joking as Eric drives us through the light rain. We cruise through

the artist colony town of Paia, refuge for surfers and hippies turned into artists selling their wares to tourists (this, as it turns out, is a very common occurrence in Hawai'i), and I take pictures of the amazingly clear and bright rainbow -- double rainbow, actually -- that we see over the ocean to the left side of our ride. At a clearing just outside of town, we find a wide shoulder on the side of the road, pull over, and get out for pictures. Along the way, we pass the popular (and expensive) restaurant Mama's Fish House, which is on our list of Things To Do In Maui but which will have to wait until our third visit to the island; we listen, entertained, as native Maui resident Eric discusses how Hawaiians eat ("we don't eat until we get full, we eat until we get tired. I call it 'Polynesian Paralysis'") and why everything on Maui is so expensive (there's only one large factory on Maui, for processing sugar cane into raw sugar; however, even that then has to be shipped to New York to be cleaned and packaged before coming back to Maui -- there are cows on Maui but no real dairy so a similar process is done with the milk and it's not uncommon to see milk selling in stores for as much as $10/gallon.) We also entertain ourselves with a fun and joke-filled discussion with East Coast visitors Michael and Valerie (I don't remember how the subject came up, but at some point I leave Michael momentarily helpless with mirth with a comment about YouTube videos of nenes twerking; Lucie accomplishes the same when we see roadwork and she says they're narrowing the roads for the tourists.) At various points along the way, Eric stops along the side of the road (shoulder space permitting [and in some cases even without shoulder space]) to show us such native or introduced flora as awapuhi (flowering Hawaiian ginger), bamboo (there's a bamboo forest alongside the highway where one can literally get lost for weeks, it's so large and dense), koa (a beautiful exotic wood, prized for its natural beauty and density, popular in handmade guitars and ukuleles but now a protected wood and therefore very expensive when available), and rainbow eucalyptus (a smooth-skinned tree, with vibrant pastel streaks, which really does look painted on.)

We make a quick stop in the tiny town of Haiku at the roadside stand Halfway to Hana (which is really only about a third of the way to Hana) and buy some of their crazy tasty banana bread and "King's Bars" (macadamia nuts, chocolate chips, butterscotch chips, coconut, and a graham cracker crust) and a "medium sized" shave ice that's the size of an adolescent German shepherd; we stop further along the way at the tiny town of Huelo, where we see a church built from stone and coral back in 1853, take pictures of some beautiful waves crashing on the lava rocks, and buy candied coconut and macadamia nut brittle from locals sheltering from the drizzle under canopies; and make additional stops at several waterfalls, bridges, aqueducts, and scenic points; and, approximately three hours after Kahului (including a fifteen to twenty minute stretch when we get caught up in a standstill traffic situation as construction equipment clears a small landslide ahead of us that has partially blocked the road), we end up in the town of Hana.

Hana, by itself, could be described as somewhat unimpressive... but it's never claimed to be anything otherwise. It's a small town, very removed from the rest of comparatively crowded and busy Maui; quiet and peaceful, in its quaint way... the experience of the Road to Hana is called "the Road to Hana" for a reason, instead of just "Hana". We have a picnic lunch under a pavilion by a black sand beach, with me and Lucie on one side of a picnic table and Michael and Valerie on the other, eating fresh pineapple, and dark chocolate brownies, and chicken breast sandwiches, and pasta salad, and mahimahi sandwiches, and bottled water and POG. It's a simple meal, with the rain continuing to come down outside the pavilion, and laughter and anecdotes as we share stories as we eat.
From there, we stop briefly at Hana Tropicals, an orchid farm run by members of WWOOF, World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms, a coalition of eco-friendly organic farmers who -- I'm assuming -- grow trees primarily for hugging purposes. The orchids and proteas they grow are really beautiful, and vibrant; and just like with Temptation Tours' Haleakala Sunrise tour when we stopped at the protea farm, the women in our group receive a small bouquet of cut flowers as a welcome gift.

There's a brief delay along the road back as Eric stops our van to remove several large rocks that are littering the other side of the road and which are blocking a car's route; back in the van he also points out the fence of a home alongside the highway, where some of the fencing has collapsed and fallen partway down the hill -- "That wasn't like that when we drove past here on the way out," he comments -- and we continue down the road a bit to Wai'anapanapa State Park. We park the van and stretch our legs for a bit; Lucie and Valeria walk down the long and steep stairs to the black sand beach, while Michael (bad back) and I (bad knee) opt to stay up at the parking lot level. I wander around for a bit, take some pictures of a mongoose frolicking around the grassy picnic area and of the lava rock arches on the beach below, and once the two women come back up the stairs, I join them and the three of us take another trail -- a combination of ramp and stairs, but nothing too severe -- down to the freshwater pool nearby. There's quaint local folklore about the pool, about a princess Popoalaea who is hiding unsuccessfully from her husband, Chief Kakae, and who is killed by him after her hiding place is discovered; you know, all that touchy-feely stuff that you find in Harlequin novels.

We snooze a bit on the rest of the trip back -- it seems a little jaded to say, but at some point we almost get waterfalled out... the scenery is absolutely stunning, make no mistake; the tree canopy is a bright and vibrant green, the flowers range from blazing crimson to a pastel, almost gossamer, lavender to what is almost a screamingly bright hunter orange, and the ocean is a frothy combination of white crashing waves and a variety of blues and aquas. Even the fact that the skies are a near-constant gray can't dull the artist's dream palette of colors that surround us, or the amazing natural beauty of foliage, waterfalls, wildlife, and earthy green scents; it's almost a sensory overload, but a wonderful one.

One last stop before Kahului, where we stop and watch the waves at Pe'ahi. Also known by the name Jaws, Pe'ahi is the Hawaiian word for wave, although it's actually kind of a play on words -- the word for oceanic waves is nalu, while pe'ahi is the waving or fanning of one's hands, and chosen as the name for the surfing mecca even though Pe'ahi is actually the ancient name of a different, inland location not far away. The surfers are packed into this area, the waves are impressive -- not as huge as the 60-foot waves that can appear during the winter months, but still taller than the surfers riding them -- and the outhouses by the parking lot are horrible. I count myself lucky that I didn't have to avail myself of them, but Lucie did and she says she will be forever grateful to our personal trainer for the strong quad muscles she had to employ to avoid having to actually come in contact with any of the interior other than the floor. Enough of that, though -- icky icky.

We cruise back across the island, along the Honoapi'ilani Highway that runs along the western coast of Maui up to Ka'anapali where Eric drops us back at the hotel. We rest for an hour or so, then wander down to the hotel's Tiki Terrace outdoor restaurant for dinner. It's still drizzling on and off, so we sit under the covered area and enjoy dinner while the live band plays Hawaiian music. We share an appetizer of coconut shrimp, a Hawaiian pupu mainstay; Lucie has a tenderloin steak and rice pilaf, and I opt for one of the daily specials, the braised lamb shank. It's falling-apart tender, flavorful and moist, with a garlic, ginger, anise, and shiitake mushroom sauce, a dollop of white truffle oil on top, and a vegetable medley bed of bok choy, carrots, and sweet Maui onions. It's delicious, robust and could only be topped by an even better dessert, this is managed with their "banana caramel lava eruption", with caramelized banana sliced, mixed with toasted macadamia nuts, surrounding a chocolate lava cake, topped with coconut ice cream, and drizzled with an intense caramel sauce. It's fantastic. Not at all diet friendly, but definitely fantastic.

I manage to finish the dessert, but am too full of sugars afterwards to have any fruity tropical drinks tonight, so we sit and listen to the music for a bit longer before heading back to our room for the night.

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Hawai'i One-3, Day 1: The Day We Get Re-Maui'ed

Aloha!

Our new Hawaiian vacation begins, as it has every time thus far, with a chauffeured ride from our apartment to the airport. The ride isn't a stretch limo (as it was in 2009 upon our return) or a town car (as it has been every other time), but a Cadillac Escalade, driven by Demetrius (instead of Dean, who has been our driver on every other occasion.)

While the ride isn't uncomfortable or unnerving in any way, it's not the experience to which we've become accustomed. Instead of engaging and entertaining conversation with our driver, we sit quietly in the back seat as Demetrius plays KBLX on the radio; other than introducing himself to me when he picks us up, I honestly don't believe Demetrius says more than a dozen words to us during the trip, and I don't recall him saying anything to Lucie -- not even an introduction. We listen to the Steve Harvey morning show, which today at least consists of equal parts religious proselytization and bathroom humor "morning zoo" schtick, until we get to Oakland Airport. We wait patiently for a while as Demetrius works on charging my credit card for the trip, before Lucie eventually pulls our luggage out of the vehicle herself so we don't end up late for the flight.

A mercifully short trip through the TSA checkpoint and brief wait at the gate later, and we're on our flight. Alaskan Airlines is our airline of choice for the trip out; their breakfast for their first class passengers (which we are) consists of fresh fruit and a blueberry Danish, and their take on a loco moco -- a junior ground beef patty on rice, covered in a mushroom gravy, with a bit of scrambled eggs alongside.

I do understand the compromises that have to be made -- scrambled eggs reheat much better than eggs fried over easy or sunny side up, which is how *real* loco mocos are made -- but unfortunately this only serves to create a burning need for real Hawaiian mix plate goodness. I spend part of the time watching Hugh Jackman's abs playing "The Wolverine" on the provided in-flight entertainment tablet, followed by my getting back into the Hawaiian frame of mind by watching Arial America's Hawai'i episode in high definition on my own iPad.

Once we land on Maui, Lucie guards our luggage while I pick up our rental car at Avis. They're out of the full-size car (such as Impala or Taurus) that I had reserved, so they set me up with a Lincoln town car. This is *WAY* more car than I feel comfortable with, but I'm game to give it a try -- this is Hawai'i, and we're on vacation, so I don't plan on sweating the small things. (Yes, the Lincoln town car is a big thing, not a small thing. Believe me, I know.)

From the airport, we head mauka (inland or uphill; "mauka" is Hawaiian for "sucking gas") to the Ali'i Kula Lavender Farm, which was our first stop last trip as well. This time I'm prepared for the winding and narrow road from the highway to the farm entrance, and for the even narrower and windier road from the farm entrance to the parking lot... but what I'm not prepared for is just how immense the Lincoln feels trying to navigate the roads. We eat a very light snack (their lavender scones are still outstanding, though because the toaster oven is out of order they're room temp instead of warm and tasty; the lavender and honey iced green tea is sweet and refreshing) and make our first major financial hit of the vacation in the gift shop, buying various lavender-scented or -flavored or -themed items for us and our friends and family. Once back in the car, I spend about half an hour on the phone (we actually get service out here, which believe me is NOT always a given in upcountry Hawai'i) with Avis before heading back to the rental car location at Maui's Kahului airport (call sign OGG, after Hawaiian Airlines-affiliated aviation pioneer Bertram Hogg [for some reason he decided against HOG]) where I successfully swap out the Lincoln town car with a Chrysler 300. The 300 is still larger than a Taurus or Impala, but a vehicle in which I feel much more comfortable behind the wheel; I drove a 300 during our visit to O'ahu four years ago and had no issues.

Now in our new, slightly less Brobdingnagian ride, we head out for lunch. Lucie's done some reading around and suggests the local favorite Da Kitchen. They appeared in an episode of Bizarre Food for their deep fried Spam musubi appetizer, so we order that in addition to our entrees -- the beef teriyaki and chicken katsu combination plate for Lucie, and the "Notorious B.I.G. Moco" for me. That particular meal consists of, according to their menu, a "homemade burger steak topped with chili, Mexican cheese, two eggs, mushrooms and onions, served with Spam, bacon, Portuguese sausage, all over our homemade local style fried rice." It must also be noted that their fried rice has copious amounts of Spam, bacon, and Portuguese sausage -- suffice it to say that this is not exactly diet-friendly eats. It is, however, amazingly delicious; Lucie also says that her beef teriyaki is the best teriyaki she's ever had. This one-two gastronomical punch of outstanding tastes and gargantuan portions is a great way to start our trip to Hawai'i, even though it does sort of threaten to put both of us into a happy food coma.

After groggily making our way to the car (which, I'm almost certain, ends up sitting several inches lower than it did before our meal), we make our way across the island to the Ka'anapali Beach Hotel where we check in. We unpack, and enjoy the air conditioning for a few minutes before heading out to the adjoining beach where we walk down to Black Rock and watch the sunset torch lighting ceremony. We'd missed this the last time we were on Maui (my knee wasn't exactly meander-friendly back then [not that it's all that much better now -- it's actually a bit worse -- but I'm more able to manage the walk with the added weight loss and exercise regimen]), and since we're sort of calling this part of the trip Maui 2.0, we wanted to do the things we didn't get to do two years ago.

Torches lit, guy with torch having successfully dived off the cliff into the ocean, we slowly make our way back to our hotel, stopping along the way to take advantage of one of those "stick your head through the hole in the wall for wacky fun picture time" walls for some wacky fun picture time before relaxing at Ka'anapali Beach Hotel's outside Tiki Bar area where we have some cold tropical drinks and listen to the live band play Hawaiian and not-so-Hawaiian selections. Lucie has a lava flow and a Malibu and Coke; I opt for the "Ka'anapali Cooler" (light rum, vodka, sweet & sour, pineapple and orange juices, and a top skin of blackberry & cherry brandy) and a souvenir version of a tropical itch (which comes with a bamboo back scratcher as a swizzle stick.) Sated, satisfied, and a pleasant combination of Hawaiian music and a slight alcohol buzz in our ear holes, we eventually head upstairs and say aloha ahiahi ("goodnight" in Hawaiian; also "hello fishfish") to our first day back in Hawai'i.

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1 Diet-Free Day, at the Bacon Festival of America

So yeah -- we've been walking and/or jogging, and biking, and dieting, and seeing a personal trainer, and getting into our apartment complex's Pool of Questionable Cleanliness for pool exercises, and doing yoga and kettle bell routines and chair exercises in our living room for a while now... but I remember hearing somewhere (probably on the Internet, maybe even in this very paragraph) that going off the regimen every once in a while is a good thing to do.

And as it so happens, the Saturday before Labor Day is International Bacon Day. And as it so happens, food truck organizer Moveable Feast is putting on the entertainingly over-the-top named "San Jose Bacon Festival of America" on that same day. And as it so happens, our planned anniversary dinner from the 26th needed to be postponed... and this sounds like a nice proxy for an anniversary night out. A fatty, salty proxy. Mmmm, proxy.

We had ordered tickets a while back, when the event was first announced, and got the tickets for half price (score!), so the parking fee at the flea market is offset by the savings and is essentially free. Free of cost, at least -- there's a highly vocal and self-righteous group of protestors clustered at the entrance of the parking lot, saying that we're all horrible people for encouraging the wholesale slaughter of domesticated swine for consumption purposes; so we do have to pay with our immortal souls, I guess... but hey, it's for bacon, so we're good.

We find a parking space surprisingly close to the entrance and make our way into the night market area of the flea market (passing a few other, closer empty parking spaces along the way, of course, but that's fine.) The Bacon Festival consists of 28 different food trucks, parked along the perimeter of the marketplace; with assorted craft vendors off to one side. We arrive shortly before noon (original plan was to arrive around 11:00 to 11:30, but we didn't account for the half hour it took us to get into the parking lot -- this place is BUSY) and start to look at the various trucks to check out our options.

(Okay, vertically aligned sidebar here -- if you've never done a food truck event, there are several things to keep in mind: line length, food delivery speed, truck popularity, and cost; you need to make judgment calls as to what food you want based on these attributes. If you're hungry, go for the short lines to get something in hand, and feel free to eat said food while you're in line for the truck you really want that has a long wait. If the food vendor takes forever to make their food, even a short line will take longer than a longer line at a fast-preparation truck. For the Bacon Festival, the cost isn't a huge deal -- the organizers have a rule that for this festival no dishes can cost more than $5, and there's a good deal of food that actually costs less than that. This is all fairly obvious strategy, of course, but you'd be surprised at how many people complain about picking the most popular truck with the longest line for their first dish, and then complain about the event afterward because they were there for three hours and were only able to visit three trucks, the last one of which is an overcrowded ice cream vendor on a hot day. Simple enough? Good -- back to the narrative.)

The first food truck at which we stop is Takoz Mod Mex a tacos truck that actually specializes in tacos; their standard beef, chicken, and al pastor tacos -- sorry, "TaKoz" -- just have bacon bits on top as their slight nod to the theme of the day, but their other two food options do sound porkier and we opt for their "Street Dog", a bacon wrapped hot dog nestled in a toasted telera roll, with an arugula greens mix on top, and drizzled with avocado sauce and chipotle sriracha aioli, then sprinkled with cilantro. The hot dog is cooked perfectly, and the slight bite of the sriracha aioli works very well with the avocado sauce as a flavor counterbalance. There's a little bit too much bread in the bun-to-dog ratio for me, but the telera roll is toasted just right so it's crispy and has a nice crunch without being dry. Lucie absolutely loves this dish, and at the end of the day still says this is her favorite.

Our next stop is a Korean food truck called Seoul Bitez (okay, what's with the names of some of these trucks? Was there a sale on truck paint jobs where you get discounts for the letters lower down on the letter frequency list? Should I expect a truck named Jaxkqy'zz to show up one of these days?) that has a few Mexican - Korean fusion dishes listed. We go with their variant on the traditional Korean spicy pork, which is a spicy pork belly taco. The thick cut slabs of pork belly are tender and a good ratio of meat to fat, smothered in a zesty bulgogi sauce. The corn tortillas are soft without falling apart, the roamine lettuce and onion are sliced small enough to accompany the protein well without being a distraction, and the spicy pork belly is superb. Lucie finishes her taco, and after about half of mine I just pull out the chunks of bacon and focus on those -- it's not that the taco is bad at all, but I feel the need to pace myself.

The next truck on our list is one we've eaten from before, the purveyor of Chinese soul food known as Soulnese. The line for Soulnese is pretty long -- it's one of the more popular trucks at every event -- so we divide our forces and Lucie stays in line while I find another vendor.

The line for Grilled Cheese Bandits is crazy long so I rule them out immediately, which is too bad; a grilled cheese with bacon is ALWAYS a good thing, and I've been wanting to try them out for a while now. I make do with Louisiana Territory, a Cajun themed truck, and get their garlic bacon fries for us to share while we're waiting in the Soulnese line. Unfortunately, they seem to have rushed their food to get it out, as the fries are undercooked, limp, and greasy. The bacon pieces are cooked well, but they're added more as an afterthought -- a scant pinch or two tossed on the fries before handing them out the truck window -- than given a starring role. I pick out the new french fries that are the least undercooked, we eat the bacon pieces (because, you know, bacon) and I discard the rest. It's a little wasteful, but we don't want to eat something disappointing just because we bought it.

Soon enough, we arrive at the ordering window for Soulnese, and place our order. They don't have their awesome Seoul Stix (skewers of shrimp wrapped around hot link slices) today, which is a shame; but it doesn't really work with the bacon theme so it's understandable. They do have a good selection otherwise, though, so we choose bacon mac'n rolls, bacon garlic noodles, and bacon wrapped corn dogs. The bacon mac'n rolls are their usual mac'n rolls (macaroni and cheese in a deep fried egg roll) with bacon added; however, unlike Takoz Mod Mex's seemingly afterthought action of "let's toss bacon bits on our usual fare", the bacon mac'n rolls have the bacon mixed in with the macaroni and cheese before being rolled up, and bacon and macaroni and cheese are ALWAYS a great combination; these are certainly no exception. Crispy wrapper, creamy and salty filling -- not too dry but not so moist that it leaks or drips when you eat it -- these are fantastic. I love their standard mac'n rolls, but I love these suckers to eleven. The bacon garlic noodles are slightly underwhelming -- the taste is okay but they're cold and a little dry -- and the bacon wrapped corn dogs make up for that. We love corn dogs, and we love bacon, and we really, really love the two together. It's the Reese's Peanut Butter cup of the savory deep fried food world.

After Soulnese, we wander for a bit through the craft vendors and ooh and ah over the San Jose-centric designs on the shirts (I'm very entertained by the "Fin City" shirts in Sharks colors, but of course they don't come in my size) and pick up a pair of bright red knee socks emblazoned with "BACON" on the sides for Lucie. We also briefly look at the other trucks in the area, but the line for Grilled Cheese Bandits is even longer than before, and none of the other items at Louisiana Territory seem appetizing after their bacon garlic fries, so we head back toward the other side of the marketplace.

We stop along the way at Chutney Mary's, who offer a wide variety of dishes covering many different ethnicities and influences. Today, the truck is very definitely NOT doing their usual http://photos.mercurynews.com/2013/08/08/chutney-marys-food-truck-serves-up-halal-dishes-in-the-south-bay/ shtick of serving halal food -- they're all about the bacon. We get a bowl of the bacon and beer gumbo with andouille sausage and chicken, which is a delicious concoction with densely savory flavors and large chunks of sausage and chicken, sweet onion, and of course bacon. We also buy one of their salted caramel apples covered with bacon and chocolate chips for eating when we get home; the combination proves to be surprisingly good... the sweetness of the chocolate and saltiness of the bacon, reinforced on both fronts by the salted caramel, added to the refrigerated crisp tartness of the apple -- it's a strange combination of flavors on the surface, but the result is much deeper than you'd think. In fact, this ends up being tied with the Soulnese bacon mac'n rolls for my favorite dish of the day.

We also buy a cup of the bacon lemonade, which is just what it sounds like -- lemonade with bacon pieces submerged in it like porky jetsam. The taste actually isn't bad, but the glossy, iridescent veneer of bacon fat on top is a little off-putting, and we discard the drink when we're about two thirds of the way through it so we avoid the top layer. If I'm going to drink bacon fat, it'll be fresh from the pan after frying the bacon (thought cooled down a bit), and it'll be in a shot glass. Actually, that doesn't sound half bad.

(EDITOR'S NOTE: No, it sounds *all* bad. Don't do it. Only a sadistic cardiologist looking to put kids through college would advocate this, and even then it'd be strictly off the records to avoid legal ramifications.)

Our next stop is at Taqueria Angelica's, where we get a churro (no bacon involved, but it's a taco truck and they have churros, and it's our moral obligation to provide positive reinforcement to churro distributors) and a bacon quesadilla. I have most of the quesadilla -- it's cheese, after all, so Lucie limits her lactose intake -- and it's a simple yet effective delivery system for the bacon, much like what I imagine Grilled Cheese Bandits is providing on the other side of the Bacon Festival, only in a flour tortilla and with a much smaller line. It's got monterey jack cheese and bacon, in a flour tortilla with a drizzle of crema decorating the top, and it comes topped with chopped lettuce and tomato that I ignore because I'm not here celebrating the Healthy Food Accompaniment Festival. We wash that down with a bottle of Coke (Mexican Coke, made with real sugar and not high fructose corn syrup) and decide it's about time for dessert.

There are a few different vendors providing dessert (other than Chutney Mary's caramel apples), but the lines at both Fairycakes and Treatbot are prohibitively long and the food options at Rocko's Chocolate Tacos sounds good so we decide to give them a go. This turns out to be both good and bad -- the bad part being that the line, although shorter, moves excruciatingly slowly due to the food preparation process: the customer orders a waffle cone or other frozen concoction which is then hand-dipped in one of the chocolate dipping sauces available, then dunked briefly into liquid nitrogen before delivery to the customer. This, plus the two facts that the customers are ordering multiple items and that there's only one person making them with one canister of liquid nitrogen, makes for very slow throughput. However, the good part of the equation is that the food is very good and worth the wait. Lucie has a frozen banana dipped in dark chocolate with a generous amount of bacon rolled into the chocolate; it's another one of those seemingly strange but very tasty flavor combinations which we've been experiencing today on this day of smoked cured meat goodness. This is her second favorite food item, just after the Street Dog from Takoz Mod Mex. My food choice is a salted caramel ice cream in a waffle cone, also dipped in dark chocolate, and also with bacon mixed in. Salted caramel is one of the biggest trends in the foodie scene right now, but it's a very delicious trend so I'm okay jumping on the bandwagon -- the caramel flavor in the ice cream is a little drowned out by the dark chocolate and bacon, but it's refreshingly cold on this hot day, and even without a strong salted caramel bass beat the lead guitar of bacon and rhythm guitar of dark chocolate crank out a great tune. I don't know what the drums would be, as I didn't think the metaphor fully through... let's say it's a jazz trio instead, and the upright bass and drums carry the tune even without the sax for a while. That actually works, too. Niiiice.

That having been our dessert, we decide to get one more bacon item for the road (to go along with the apple from Chutney Mary's), and Lucie's request is another Street Dog from Takoz Mod Mex. Unfortunately, I get my food trucks (did I mention just how many there are here? Most Moveable Feast events are six or seven trucks, so tripling the number is a little jarring) mixed up with my food names and we end up at the Road Dogs truck instead. In my defense -- Street Dog, Road Dogs... understandable, right? Right?

By the time I realize my mistake (read: check the notes app on my iPhone where I'm trying to keep track of everything we've been snarfing down) we're at the front of the line so we shrug and order from them anyway -- we stood in line already; might as well get something out of it. Ordering off the hot dog slider menu, Lucie goes for their Classic sliders and I go for the Cheesy Bacon sliders; I wait in line for them and get them packaged to eat at home while Lucie heads off to wait in line at Takoz Mod Mex for another Street Dog. The Classic is a cute set of beef dogs with bacon, homemade relish, brown mustard, and ketchup; and the Cheesy Bacon is a purist's idea of a bacon cheese dog -- two short beef dogs smothered in cheese sauce and a large mound of bacon pieces. These are sliders so it's technically a full size hot dog cut into two smaller pieces (or maybe a foot-long hot dog cut into three pieces for cost savings -- the pieces are cooked separately judging by the ends but they don't last long enough to take a really close look), but they're both very good and we end up eating what we ordered before belatedly realizing we could have split our choices and had some of each. That's actually okay, though, since Lucie says her Classic is very nicely made and is mighty tasty (just not at a Street Dog level), but I probably wouldn't have enjoyed it as much since I'm not much of a sweet relish person. Likewise, my Cheesy Bacon slider is pure gooey cheddary salty awesome in a soft sweet roll, but the cheese sauce wouldn't have been a big favorite with Lucie.

By the time the Road Dogs order is ready and packaged and I get over to Lucie, she's almost at the front of the line at Takoz Mod Mex, so the timing for waiting in line is almost perfect. Unfortunately, the timing for ordering food is not perfect, because they're out of the bacon wrapped hot dogs and have stopped selling Street Dogs for the day. Curses! We make do with a BLT Torta (Sorry, "TorTa", because in addition to an infrequent-letter discount I believe they also had some sort of deal on capital letterz), and also bring that home to enjoy once we're on a couch and not standing in direct sunlight. The TorTa is a BLT on a toasted telera roll, with the same avocado sauce and chipotle sriracha aioli that came on the Street Dog. The roll is still very nicely toasted, and the sauces are still a nice kick in the taste buds, but the bacon to bread ratio is way off due to the telera roll's thickness. It's still a decent sandwich, but the bacon is almost lost, which is a shame. Maybe it's just not enough protein because it's early afternoon and some trucks are already running out of bacon (the event organizer says that there are 5,000 more attendees than expected) so they feel the need to ration; maybe they just didn't think about the bread's size and figured that what would be a small-but-acceptable amount of bacon for two slices of sourdough bread would also be acceptable for a telera roll; maybe the guys at Takoz Mod Mex originally had tons of bacon in the sandwich originally but their cost would have been over the $5 maximum allowed price, so Takoz Mod Mex had to KompRomyZz; maybe their Street Dog was so darn delicious that anything else naturally pales in comparison... who knows? At least their Street Dog was freakin' awesome.

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So maybe it wasn't exactly dinner at a four-star restaurant, or a private dinner at an oceanside gazebo with a personal musician and private waiter and hostess, but it was -- in my humble opinion, at any rate -- a very nice anniversary meal, on a beautiful day, with the woman I love, fairly close to the 12th anniversary of the day she said "I do."

And that makes it wonderful.

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25K (plus 13 Miles) So Far In Summer

So since my last blog entry (which was admittedly quite a while ago), Lucie and I have been taking part in several activities that, if you had suggested to us we'd be doing a couple of years ago, we'd have laughed at you for even suggesting; some of which were done with my sister joining us (or rather, joining me; since this allows Lucie to jog instead of feeling like she has to limit herself by walking with her slow and gimpy husband.)

I *think* that sentence makes sense; lots of different tenses, though, so grammar might very well be way off.  Then again, this is a blog, so grammar don't matter none (or speling neither.)

Anyway, since our first foray into doing 5Ks, we've taken part in quite a few events; let's relive them in order:

5/18: The Color Run, benefitting the American Diabetes Association

Like a few other races, this one started at the soon-to-be-renamed HP Pavilion in downtown San Jose.  The Color Run is actually a for-profit business, although they do make charitable donations to local organizations; in the San Jose event, they donated to the American Diabetes Organization.  In the Color Run, participants start off wearing white or light colored clothing; at each kilometer marker is a "color station", where race volunteers fling brightly colored powders at the runners as they pass.  In the pictures I took, our clothing eventually goes from white, to white and pink, to white and pink and yellow, then adding orange, then blue, then purple.  At the end of the race is essentially a big rave, with loud dance music and hundreds if not thousands of dyed people jumping and dancing and -- in ten-minute intervals -- throwing clouds of bright powders into the air to color the crowd around them.  It's fun, but Lucie and I both feel WAY too old (and antisocial) to rave along with the young kids, so we throw our included-with-the-race-packet bags of colored powder at each other and some people nearby, then head back home.

The Color Run was fun but felt a little too "young" for us; we're glad we did it and would recommend it to other people wanting to have a fun time, but will probably pass next year and leave it to younger and more festive participants.  I did enjoy getting a custom dye job on my clothes, though.

6/2: The Race for Literacy on behalf of the San Jose Public Library, benefitting the India Literacy Project

A race suggested by and done with my sister, the Race for Literacy took place at Vasona Park.  We join the SJPL race team, and get spiffy race shirts customized with the team name.  For this race, the three of us walk together for the first five minutes as Lucie warms up, then she jogs ahead while my sister and I walk and keep each other company.  Laura and I chat as we walk the crowded path along the lake, pause for a bit as my bad knee gets aggravated when I walk uphill without being careful enough, and meet up with Lucie at the finish line, where she completed the race about 10-15 minutes before we do.

The paths at Vasona Park are a little narrow for a big crowded event like this, and the volunteers seem a little subdued rather than supportive; but it's for a good cause, it's a nice day, and the three of us enjoy a nice breakfast at The Breakfast Place afterward... all in all, this makes for a very enjoyable day.

6/29: USO Salutes Our Heroes, benefitting the USO

Another race starting at the still-named-this-but-soon-to-be-renamed,-honest HP Pavilion, this is the first in a hopefully long run of annual events to support the USO.  Laura joins us for this event as well. Other than the three of us, the turnout for this event is unfortunately pretty small -- a combination, we suspect, of this being an inaugural event and inadequate word-of-mouth and marketing -- but the support staff (as should be expected of the USO) is outstanding; numerous, and very well organized, and vocally supportive of both the event and the participants. Plus, S. J. Sharkie shows up, as well as Darth Vader, an Imperial Stormtrooper, an Imperial Scout Trooper (and yes, I recognized the difference between the two) and a generic Imperial commander; so total geek bonus points.

The timing on the event is a little unfortunate, as San Jose is going through its annual mini heat wave (as hot as the Bay Area gets, at any rate), so Laura and I sweat profusely as we walk the route along the Guadalupe Creek Trail (and Lucie sweats more as she does her walk/jog combination ["wogging", she calls it]) but we manage to survive the ordeal.  Despite the heat, though, we consider this a great event -- thanks in no small part to the USO volunteers and staff -- and we really hope they continue this event as an annual thing.

7/13: Rotary Run at the Fig, benefitting the Rotary Club of Fresno

Laura decides to be selfish and stay in San Jose with our mom who's visiting from New Mexico instead of driving the four hours down to Fresno just for this event, but whatever.    Instead, Lucie and I head down to Fresno to take part in a race on her birthday; Lucie takes part in the 5K and I do the 2-mile walk (as my bad knee is currently dictating my exercise regimen.)  Because this is in Fresno, during the summer, the race begins at 6:30 in the morning... so we do show up at the Fig Garden in Fresno a few seconds late (as in literally, Lucie starts the 5K about 10 seconds after the rest of the crowd.)  

The route is questionable, as it winds its way through the nearby neighborhoods; and the end point of the race is not as racer-friendly as we'd like (I get a nice picture of the delivery truck after it tries to go under the balloon arch shortly after the 2-mile walk is over and gets stuck); and even though we start way freaking early it's still scorchingly hot by the time we finish... It's not our shiniest race day moment, but Lucie gets an Achievement Unlocked! for her goal of running a 5K on her birthday.  Plus, I get a cool shot of me, my awesome Fresno-based nephew (also wearing some tie dye), and the mascot of frozen yogurt joint Yodigity in all of our bright and festive colors.  So, that's pretty sweet.

7/21: West Valley Dash of Hope, benefitting West Valley Community Services

Another 5K at Vasona Park, and another event with my sister.  Although this takes place in the same park, the route itself is different, with more changes in elevation and -- for at least part of the race -- wider paths, so it definitely comes across as less crowded, which is nice.  It's also a lot more competitive in feel, which isn't as nice because Laura and I lag well behind almost everyone and come in very close to last since we're probably the only ones walking the course instead of running (or wogging.)  We do get a nice photo of us jogging the last couple hundred feet or so toward the finish line as the crowd of runners who finished ahead of us cheer us on, which is nice; and Lucie gets a personal best time for wogging the route.  It's still a warm day, but Vasona has much better shade than the Guadalupe Creek Trail or suburban Fresno, so we're not as affected.  There's an uphill stretch near the end that goes over some rocky dirt, though, and my knee doesn't take it very well -- it's throbbing a bit as we finish the race (and jogging on it for that last section probably didn't help too much either, to be sure) but it's still a nice race and a good time.

Also some good support at this event, with volunteers handing out bagels, bananas, and drinks; and a Jamba Juice tent selling their tasty fruit smoothies (with proceeds going toward West Valley Community Services, the charity of the day.)  If my knee gets better (or replaced), we're going to do this one again next year.  Good race, good cause, and good location.

7/27: Wipeout Cancer Sports Day for Charity

This is another first-year event, started by a woman who was diagnosed with colon cancer after having won on the TV show Wipeout and taken part in American Ninja Warrior on two different seasons; the charity she created for cancer research is named for her experience on the show.  Taking place at the Campbell Community Center, the day consists of a children's obstacle course, adult volleyball tournament, and bicycle rides; all of which are her favorite sports pastimes.  Lucie and I opt for the 13-mile family fun ride rather than the 30-mile or 60-mile competitive rides because we're sane people.

From the Campbell Community Center, we ride through downtown Campbell to the Los Gatos Creek trail, then head south; following the trail through Los Gatos Creek Park (where Lucie and I had participated in Kaiser's "Personal Best" fitness program earlier in the year), then further south through Vasona Park (following, in part, the same trails we'd taken in both of our 5K events [we seem to be doing an awful lot more physical activities than we have ever done, we reflect as we ride]) and all the way into Los Gatos, where we rest for a few minutes before heading back along the same path.

This ends up being about a 13.5 mile round trip bike ride... or at least, it would have been if I didn't get a flat tire and walk my bike for about half a mile before someone  else in our group stops and helps me with some emergency roadside assistance.  I never did get the guy's name, but probably made him a little uncomfortable with how profusely I was thanking him as he popped off my rear wheel, found the root cause which had been giving me issues for the last couple of weeks (the bike shop in Fresno had apparently damaged my rim when they put in heavy-duty tubes, creating a sharp chunk of aluminum right next to the valve stem, which chewed its way through three different inner tubes before it was discovered -- gonna have to give them a negative review on Yelp about that, methinks), replaced the bad tube (which was actually missing the valve stem, as it had blown completely off [lost a brand-spankin'-new pink ribbon stem cap along with it, too]), used my emergency CO2 inflator, and had me back up and running (technically pedaling, I suppose) in just a couple of minutes.  Whoever you are, thanks again.

Anyway, we get back to the Campbell Community Center, partake briefly of the lunch offered (High Tech Burrito, out of Los Gatos), and get my bike fixed at Mike's Bikes before heading home.  Other than the frustrating flat tire incident -- this being the third flat tire in as many rides, I was incredibly tempted to throw my bike into the creek in a fit of impulsive rage -- this was a good day.  Our first biking event, my newish bike being fixed (haven't had a flat tire since, despite over 50 miles ridden, which is a good sign), and some more exercise in the sun.  And a tasty burrito, too.

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So there you have it -- including the first 5K at Great America, we've taken part in six different 5K events, one bike ride, and a kayak ride (more on that one another time) in just the last few months.  If you had suggested even a year and a half ago that we'd be doing this, even the thought of that being a possibility would have had us laughing our butts off... now, we're walking / wogging / biking them off instead.

Hey -- whatever works.

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11.3 Miles to Alviso and Back

Back when I was first starting on my weight loss regimen, Lucie and I bought bicycles with our tax return, so I could get some low-impact exercise.  This was back when I was having trouble walking for any long amount of time, so going to the Campbell Community Center track was (back then, at least) out of the question, so we figured getting out and riding bikes would be a good start.

As it turns out, the only bike that would take my weight was a cruiser-style bike, with the old-style coaster (I.e., back-pedal activated) brakes.  I hadn't used that style of bicycle brakes since I was in grade school, and while the saying that you can't forget how to ride a bike might be true, the same doesn't go for stopping e bike once you're moving.  After a couple of embarrassing events where I cruised well past my intended stopping point -- including at Vasona Park where I tried to prop myself on a concrete curb, and ended up missing the curb, falling over, and spraining my wrist trying to break my fall -- I sort of put the bike away on our balcony and concentrated on walking.

Since the completion of the Guadalupe River Trail through downtown San Jose, winding along the Guadalupe River all the way up into Alviso, earlier this year -- the trail itself has been around for a long time, but was just recently paved its entire length -- we've been thinking about riding it.  But, not on that bike; because it doesn't like me.  Much like Hawai'i, I believe the bike kind of wants to kill me.

We end up using the last of our tax return money to buy a replacement bike, a 21-speed hybrid bike with a more upright sitting position so it's easier on my back.  It's more comfortable, faster, and a LOT lighter than my cruiser, though it doesn't have the spiffy flame paint job.  Ah well; can't have everything.  It has the hand brakes I'm used to, so I'm able to stop where I want to, which is probably better than aesthetics anyway.

We put the bikes on the back of Meg and drive up to my work.  It's located right next to an entrance onto the Guadalupe Trail, it has secure parking, and we can take city streets there, so no worries about bikes flying off the back of our car at freeway speeds.

The trail itself is beautiful... Raised above the Guadalupe River, fully paved and 6 feet wide, underpasses at all of the major streets; it really is a joy to ride.  The pollen can get a little brutal since you're out in the middle of nature, and if its a windy day you can struggle to move more than a few feet per minute; but you can see ducks and Canada geese in the river, and lush foliage, and the new Niners stadium being built near the Great America theme park... and if you follow the trail all the way up into Alviso, you end up not two blocks away from Maria Elena's Restaurant, home of some of the tastiest guacamole we've had in a long time.  Stopping there and enjoying a light lunch on the patio (where you can keep an eye on your bicycles) is a very pleasant way to rest up before the ride back.

We had ridden this trail a few times before, but had never gotten all the way to the end -- we were just starting out and hadnt built up the stamina yet; this was the first time we'd managed to make it all the way, and so we treated ourselves to a light lunch (plus the guacamole) before heading back home.  All in all, the round trip was a little over 11 and a quarter miles, which surprised us a bit... it didn't seem like that far, but just a nice leisurely ride alongside a calm riverbed where geese were swimming, trees (and clouds of pollen) swayed in the breeze, birds flew overhead and squirrels scampered below, and we had a nice big trophy waiting for us halfway through, in the form of some tasty, tasty guacamole.

Mmmm, guacamole.

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3.2 Miles on a Sunday in Santa Clara

So 2 years ago, I couldn't walk around the block without having to stop at least 3 or 4 times to rest because of back and knee pain, and because I was so incredibly out of shape. ITBS on my left leg, plantar fasciitis in my right foot, bone-on-bone arthritis in both knees, transitional joint at my L5 vertebra, and of course morbid obesity. Increasing pain caused me to exercise less, which increased my weight gain, which in turn added to my pain. Pretty bad cycle, that.

I've been working on it for a while now, and have made some good progress. My back and knees are giving me a lot fewer problems lately, so much that I was able to stop taking one of my pain meds; I've been working with our personal trainer (along with Lucie) and have greatly increased my stamina; I've dropped a lot of weight and am walking much faster than I used to... I've still got a ways to go, to be sure, but I've made some good progress.

Last year, I not only managed to walk 2 miles at the Susan G. Komen for the Cure walk in Fresno, but the following weekend Lucie and I walked the 5K walk at the Making Strides Against Breast Cancer event in San Jose. It was done at a very easy pace, from the Shark Tank to San Jose State University and back, with many stops along the way for traffic lights; it took almost three hours to complete, and by the end of the walk I was limping because I'd cracked one of my toenails... but I was able to complete it. It was kind of a little thing, but it made me happy.

Since then, Lucie has really been working on her walking / jogging (she calls it "wogging") duration. She completed a Couch to 5K training app on her iPhone, and is currently working on a 5K to 10K variant. I'm very proud of her.

My knees, however, won't allow me to jog, so when we go to the Campbell Community Center I have to walk while Lucie gets her wog on. I do have fun walking while listening to my "Zombies, Run!" app, but I need to have the zombie chase option disabled because I can't run for any extended amount of time. In a real zombie apocalypse, I'd be undead chow in no time.

And I *can* walk for long distances, but just not very quickly. Or I can walk relatively quickly, but not for long distances -- I've gotten blisters on the bottoms of my feet on more than one occasion trying to do so.

But I'm working on it.

I made a personal promise after the Boston Marathon bombing attack that I would start participating in as many 5K events as I could. We signed up for the Guadalupe River Run last month, but were unable to participate (though I did get my racing bib.)

And this past weekend, Lucie and I took part in the Mission City 5K, at the California's Great America theme park. It started in the park itself, meandered through the various sections of the park, then outside the park and around the perimeter of the parking lot, then back inside the park to the finish line. Lucie could have wogged it and finished the route much more quickly than she did, but she slowed her pace greatly and walked it with me, and we finished the 3.2-mile course in just under an hour. My right foot is hurting a little bit today, but no blisters to speak of and my knee seemed to handle it okay.

Because it was presented as a "family fun run", all participants in the race received completion medals for either the 1-mile distance or the full 5K. Lucie and I received the medals as well.

And it's kind of funny... these are the same sort of things that 6-year old children get when they play in soccer tournaments, where everyone gets "Participant" trophies. From a competitive point of view, these things are pretty much meaningless, and I can see that.

But speaking as someone who in 24 months has gone from practically couchridden to being able to walk at a brisk pace for over three miles; who still has a cane behind the driver's seat of his car because he's scared that his left knee or his right foot or his back or any number of other physical deficiencies might crop up again; who has lost 100 pounds and three shirt sizes and who is still trying desperately to lose more; who has just completed his first 5K since Boston and who is trying to do his very small, insignificant-to-practically-everyone-but-himself part to show solidarity with the runners and residents of Boston and that they have the support and admiration of the common man; and who is trying like hell to live a longer and healthier life with his wife and family whom he loves... this medal means a whole hell of a lot.

And I'm pretty damn proud of it.

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42 Years Ago, In a City Not Far Away...

Dang, I'm old.

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28 Pounds at a 27-Inch Draw

So up until a month or so ago, I hadn't been out practicing archery in probably about ten years. I used to go out to the range fairly often, with either my longbow or with my compound bow; but as I got busier with work, and fatter and less able to walk any real distances -- much less while carrying a heavy bow case -- I had put aside my archery equipment and kind of forgotten about it. In fact, I had lost track of where my compound bow was after I had brought it in to show during one of my speech classes, and had thought it gone for good. About a month ago, however, I ran across it as we were cleaning up our place, and the urge hit me once again.

This brings us to now. Because I haven't shot my compound bow in so long, I'm a bit concerned about its safety and reliability; the string is incredibly waxed and seems to be in surprisingly good condition, but I'm not so sure about everything else. So, I have my Pearson Flame compound bow -- made around 1993, last shot around 2003 -- professionally tuned up at a "nearby" archery place (I use quotation marks because while there used to be 4 different archery places in San Jose, they've all since closed up shop and the closest two options are in Gilroy or in Newark; and I actually end up using a place in Clovis that I went to the last time we went to Fresno) so it's reset back to the factory specs with regards to draw weight, and adjusted so the arrows fly straight, and the cables and wheels verified to be all in good condition. I also have the arrow rest replaced with a more current model, which provides a more secure and safe resting place for the arrows so they're less likely to slip. Plus, the new arrow rest is called a "whisker biscuit", which is a funny name, so that's definitely a plus.

Excitedly, I get my refreshed bow back and take it out to an indoor range in Palo Alto (not an archery shop, but an indoor range, and the closest one to us) to get the sights dialed in to the new arrow rest. I take a few shots, adjust the sight a little bit, and take another few shots.

The sight falls off the bow.

I work on it some more, a little embarrassed because this is happening in front of a bunch of other folks, and try again. I tighten the hex bolts as tight as I can, and take a few shots.

The sight falls off the bow again, and gets damaged when it hits the floor. Apparently, the metal fatigued or something during its hibernation period, because it's not securing like it should -- and now some of the pins are bent so they can't be adjusted at all. Frustrated, I stop for the night and cheer on my wife as she shoots a recurve bow for the first time. She's very, very impressive for a newb. Better than I was, in fact; but hopefully I'll give a better showing once I replace my sight.

So we head back down to Gilroy and I buy a replacement bow sight -- very nice one, not too expensive, but with enclosed pins so they're better protected than the one I had before, with a level so I can make sure the bow is being held straight, and with fiber optic lighting for better viewing (I love technology.) At the same time, we buy Lucie her first bow, an Olympic style take-down recurve, very attractive style and setup, and something which we feel is worthy of being her tax return splurge purchase.

A few days later we go back to the Palo Alto range after work, Lucie shoots her new bow, and I work on dialing in my new bow sights. Lucie shoots even better than she did before, which is both extremely impressive and possibly just a little tiny bit demoralizing to a guy who used to shoot a lot and who didn't pick it up nearly as quickly as she is.

I take a few shots, and suddenly the mechanical release I'm using practically explodes; the body of the release can't handle that much stress after ten years to slumber, and pieces of plastic -- or resin, or polycarbonate, or whatever kind of nonorganic shrapnel it is -- go flying everywhere. I feel a chunk mash into my face, and I'm positive it's cut me open and I'm now bleeding. Once again, I have to cut my shooting short and once again cheer on my wife as she impresses everyone but herself ("I'm only shooting at a target five yards away" she says, and "You're hitting bulls-eyes consistently, and it's only your third time shooting a recurve ever!" I reply.) Good news: my cheek is only mildly scratched; bad news: I've now had bad experiences with this bow twice in a row, and I can see that the string needs replacing or it might snap where the serving is becoming weak, and I'm actually more than a little intimidated about shooting the Flame again until I take a break from it and calm the heck down.

So we go down to Gilroy, again, and I use my tax return splurge purchase to get a recurve of my own. I figure, after ten years of not shooting, I need to work on my fundamentals first to get my form back to where it needs to be; and with a more simple bow I can focus on my stance, draw point, foot positioning, and everything else that Lucie has come close to mastering in such a short time.

I end up getting a similar bow to Lucie's only with a slightly stronger draw weight, right handed body, stiffer arrows, and silver limbs instead of her white ones. At my full draw length of 27 inches, it's pulling 28 pounds; a good weight, not so much that I can't hold the draw long enough to aim properly, but enough that I can come somewhat close to the feel I had with the Flame.

I've only gone shooting with it twice so far, but it feels good. My grouping isn't as good as Lucie's, but I'm realizing that I had developed some really bad shooting habits with the Flame and I'm having some trouble reprogramming myself. It'll come, in time. In the meantime, we have something new to do together that's at least a little more active than sitting on the couch, which takes us outside on weekends, and which once again lets me live my childhood fantasies of being the Marvel Comics superhero Hawkeye... or maybe Wolverine with a bow. He went to Japan, right? They like archery there....

Anyway, until such time as I feel brave enough (not "Merida" brave, because I think she rocked a longbow) enough to pick up the Flame again, I have a newer, safer, and simpler setup. Because the riser is a nice glossy black, and the limbs are silver, I have named my bow Jackson.

Go Raiders!

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1 Customer for Life, in San Jose

So we're feeling particularly lazy and grumpy after a long and irritating day at work, so we decide to stop by Tandoori Cafe, corner of Stevens Creek and Lawrence Expressway. This isn't the most authentic Indian food joint we've been to, but it is very convenient, and tasty, and their chapli kebabs are nicely spicy; we come here every couple of months or so. Not every week by any means, but often enough to where Yelp calls me a regular, and to where we recognize the guys working the register.

And the guy behind the register recognizes us as well.

After we place our order (a lamb boti wrap for my wife, lamb saag for me, and chapli kebabs, naan, and dal for us to share), he says, "and this is for... Lucie, right?" Lucie and I glance at each other briefly. He remembers her name, without any prompts.

Maybe we come here a little too often.

And then the guys looks at me and says, "Hey, you've been working out or something, haven't you; because you've lost a bunch of weight. You look good."

Maybe we don't come here enough. Buddy, you've made a loyal customer for life.

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