A bakers dozen

I challenged myself yesterday, something I rarely do anymore. Lately, an 8K walk is long for me and pretty much maxes me out. That notorious distance walker, Kevin Kim, recently posted he was going to test an injured foot with a “short” 10K hike. Hmm. Well, that inspired me to take a “short” walk and see how it feels. My goal was 10K, but I picked a route where I could easily bail if need be after 7K. I was in for quite a surprise. Once I hit the 10K target, I just kept on going to see how far these tired old legs could carry me. I finally said “enough” when I hit 13.5K and was standing in front of a trike stand. So, that was a long walk for this version of me, but as the memory photos I posted yesterday show, it was far from a record performance. My longest walk ever was back in December 2017, when I managed 38K (50,000 steps). At the time, I called that achievement a once-in-a-lifetime event, and that is likely the case. Here’s the post I wrote about the adventure. And seeing all those photos from my Pyeongtaek neighborhood really made me miss a life I never fully appreciated. Anyway, I’m motivated to push myself and see just how much I have left in me. My fantasy is to do a 29K walk to Mope Resort in San Narciso. I almost made it halfway there yesterday. We’ll see what the future brings.

Here’s some of what I saw along the way during yesterday’s long trek:

The home I left behind at the beginning of my journey
Leaving the ‘hood through the backdoor
Into the flatlands
On a street in San Isidro
The view at 1.6K. Yep, that’s rice drying directly on the pavement.
What I call Naugsol Falls
A Naugsol valley view
Over the Matain River
At 3.2K I was entering the village of Naugsol
I don’t know why this sign at a small shop on the road in Naugsol caught my eye, but it gave me a chuckle. “Ukay” is the word for used clothing. Manage your expectations, indeed!
The backside of Easter Mountain
4.8K found me on this lonely stretch of roadway.
On the river that runs through Mangan-Vaca
Still on the riverside at 6.4K
Over the river, I go
A Mangan-Vaca street scene
Waltermart is where I usually catch a Jeepney back to Barretto after this hike. Onward!
Checking my spelling and hyphenation. Got it right this time!
I was strolling down the National Highway in Subic town at 8K
The decorated barangay hall in Subic
A fully loaded Jeepney
You were destined to live a L. Ong life, Antonio. I’m hoping for more than 79 years.
9.6K on the highway in Calapandayan
Brown people can drive too, you know.
Retreating from the highway onto the market street in Calapacuan
No cars! My kinda road.
Trading lollipops for smiles
11.2K took me to the backstreets of Calapacuan
Through this narrow passage
Back on the National Highway in Matain at 12.8K
What I look like in a trike after a 13.5K walk. I was oozing light.
The “short” hike I’ve been longing for. If I’d walked the rest of the way home, I’d have hit 15K. Next time, perhaps.

Anyway, I was tired and a little sore when I got home. Swan made me a lunch of shrimp and asparagus that I very much enjoyed.

I was halfway done before I remembered to take a photo.

After a shower, a nap, and a blog post, it was time to hit the road again. First stop: the Angel’s Touch Salon for a foot spa.

My feet deserved some kindness after what I’d put them through
Swan enjoyed her treatment, too.

I also got a haircut while there. When we left, I was hungry, so we made Myleen’s our dinner destination.

I couldn’t find any low-carb options, so I went with the chicken enchiladas, but I only ate half of them.

Did our nightcap at Green Room. On the way in, we saw the Hash Grandmaster and his gal at Sloppy Joe’s. They joined us in GR later. It was a nice night out and a good day full of what passes for adventure in my life.

The tally for the day after steppin’ things up a notch
Calories in, calories out. Came in under my daily goal and burned more than usual.

Speaking of which, today is the weekly weigh-in. How’d I do?

  • This week’s weight: 246.6
  • Last week’s weight: 250.2
  • Weight loss: 3.6 pounds
  • Weight on November 1: 267.1
  • Overall reduction: 20.5 pounds

No reduction this week in my belly circumference (49″). My waist is down 1/2 inch to 43.5.

I’ve just got to keep on keepin’ on. I’ll reach my goal or die trying!

Things Facebook reminded me to remember today:

Four years ago, I enjoyed some pecan pie a la mode. That’s an indulgence I can no longer afford. But I’ll give thanks next Thursday for pumpkin pie!
Eight years ago, I purchased this book from my friend Choonae Kim, the author. She’s just back from another Cuba tour—sweet woman, by a socialist through and through.

Today’s YouTube video is about people even dumber than I am.

Probably better to laugh at stuff like this:

Sounds racist
That’s something I’m trying. Swan doesn’t seem to appreciate it, though.
He’s got a point.

Alright, then. Gonna do the SOB tonight at La Oficina. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.

4 thoughts on “A bakers dozen

  1. That Proclaimers song brings back memories of the time I went out with the work crew for drinks and Indian food. I like my food – Indian or otherwise – super spicy, and I got my customary vindaloo or phaal curry, and ate other shit like onion bhajis and keema naan.

    I got wasted pretty quickly because I’d been hitting the mouthwash hard in the offcie bathrooms beforehand and I wasn’t yet used to balancing social drinking with feeding the thirst. Took my happy ass off home relatively early, when the world started spinning and the coworkers wanted to carry on, sipping pints in old man bars and talking about their favorite pro-wrestlers while that Proclaimers song was seemingly on repeat.

    Got home maybe an hour and a half after eating, get up to my room, and immediately spew into the sink in my bedroom. There’s chunks of chicken and shrimp, flecks of herbs, bits of rice, pieces of naan, curry sauce mixed in with bile, beer, vodka, and luminescent mouthwash foam. All that good stuff. I was fading fast and in no condition for clean up so just flopped into bed, fully dressed, immediately after.

    Woke up the next morning to find the sink drain clogged with the congealed remains of my puke from the night before. My bedroom fucking reeked to high heaven of half-digested Indian food and vomit for what seemed like a month after. Even today just thinking about that song I can still smell that miasma.

    Cheers for the trip down memory lane, John!

  2. My fantasy is to do a 29K walk to Mope Resort in San Narciso. I almost made it halfway there yesterday. We’ll see what the future brings.

    Joo can dew eet!

    Yep, that’s rice drying directly on the pavement.

    There’s usually a grain/husk separating stage, and washing the grains is up to the household, so the road’s dirt and pebbles probably don’t matter so much. Still, biting down on even a grain of sand can be a bitch.

    My feet deserved some kindness after what I’d put them through

    Can you put your feet through 2X that distance for 30 days in a row (with scattered breaks, of course)? Let’s talk about blisters after you try that.

    No reduction this week in my belly circumference (49″). My waist is down 1/2 inch to 43.5.

    I’ve written before about beer bellies versus food bellies.

    That’s something I’m trying. Swan doesn’t seem to appreciate it, though.

    At least she gets to know what you’re like on the inside.

  3. Joo can dew eet!

    I’m not sure how adopting Judaism will make a difference in my distance-walking ability.

    I don’t eat rice, and seeing the drying method here makes me glad about that.

    I think if I tried long daily walks like that, the blisters would be the least of my problems.

    I re-read your post on beer bellies, but I can’t blame the beer or heredity for mine. My dad’s beer drinking puts mine to shame, and he remained thin his entire life. Almost everyone I know is a drinker, and a lot of them aren’t fat. I blame sweets and other poor diet choices for my current obesity. Beer doesn’t help, I know. I’ve probably reduced my consumption by 50% since beginning my current diet regimen.

    At least she gets to know what you’re like on the inside.

    That’s what I tell her. And caring is sharing.

  4. Nice to hear from you again, Thompson. I’ve never been a fan of Indian food, and your description of the meal’s aftermath doesn’t entice me to try some anytime soon. Sipping beer in an old man’s bar sounds nice, though.

    It’s strange how a song can trigger a memory. I’ve had that happen, too, but alas, most of the time, they are not happy ones. I guess that Proclaimers tune really stinks for you. I’ll try not to regurgitate it in the future!

    “If you get people asking the wrong questions, you don’t have to worry about the answers.

    Hunter S. Thompson

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