Every Friday, a group of my friends gather together at someone’s house to watch movies—and eat. Pretty much it’s a potluck dinner anytime we socialize with each other. Sometimes we seem to non-verbally coordinate very well and have a healthful spread fit for a king. Other times it’s not so good as it is desserts as far as the eye can see. Tonight was a mostly healthy night.

My indulgence really didn’t take on the typical quality of craving something sweet or salty—items that are usually associated with junk food. Strangely enough, I had the desire for eating more than my 140 grams of veggies for dinner.

Ever since I went vegetarian, my friends have been pretty good about bring some sort of veggie dish for me. Over the past few months, the number of vegetarian items have increased as many of them have been on a health kick—going to the YMCA or the gym. I don’t know if my success from PCP had anything to do with their motivation, but I like to think it did.

The way the spread was set-up, we didn’t have to walk very far to grab something to eat while the movie was playing. In fact, we didn’t need to walk at all. We literally covered this rather large coffee table with food which we then proceeded to sit around. Although some items did need to be eaten off plates, most were pretty much of the finger-food variety.

The evil about this kind of grazing is that a person can have absolutely no idea how much food they have put into their system. The movie is playing, people are talking and having a good time, and you’ve only eaten one carrot stick—or at least you think that’s all you’ve eaten.

I’ve shrunk a number of sizes since last summer and I’m a bit more conscious about what I’m eating. I allowed my self a little extra helping of pasta salad; noshed on roasted parsnips topped with cheddar cheese, sour cream, and chives; took a bit more of the artichoke dip; and hit the point where I could say that I was 100 percent full.

Meanwhile, I’m watching everyone else eat. And eat. And eat. And eat some more. I’m not sure if their cognizant of how much food is going into their bodies, but I am. Granted, there were a lot of distractions going on with veritable smorgasbord before them that required no energy whatsoever to retrieve. It was the total opposite of “mindful consumption” which could be best described as “mindless grazing”.

Unfortunately, my partner and I couldn’t stay there much later than 10pm. We had a bit of a walk ahead of us (yes, we hoofed it to our friend’s house) and I wanted to be home early enough so I could get some sleep before needing to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at work the next morning. (Yay Saturday work schedules.) Plus I wanted to hit the farmer’s market for my weekly supply of veggies before I needed to clock in.

And now it’s time for me to punch out. Goodnight all!

I cheated and looked ahead. Tomorrow is indulgence day. I’m not looking forward to it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I haven’t been the paradigm of diet perfection the past few weeks. This was so unlike PCP-me who remained vigilant and faithful throughout the entire program. KFB-me seems to be a cheater. Oh, it’s never anything big or horrendous—just little items like a cookie here or a bit of extra carb there.

Because of those slip-ups, I don’t feel I deserve to have an indulgence day. That’s suppose to be a treat for being good, not for slackers like me. But I know that I’m going to allow myself to indulge anyway. That’s pretty sad.

There’s another blog that I read, almost on a daily basis, called Break the Illusion. It’s written by this young gay guy who calls himself Davey Wavey. Most of the time his posts are very “zen spiritual” (if that’s a term), but then there will be entries that are very frank and blunt about sex and sexuality. In his video entries he is almost never without a smile and almost always without a shirt—and pants. (It helps that he pretty damn hot!)

In one of his more recent entries, Davey talks about coexisting with others. (Be forewarned before clicking on the link—the second half of that entry talks about his trip to Chinatown in New York City and includes a picture of carved phallic items being sold in a store there.)

Although his post is quite interesting, what intrigued me more were a number of the comments that turned into mini-discussions/arguments. Sometimes those commentators get real nasty and there are moments when I wonder why the heck they bother reading Davey’s blog when all they do is insult him. I do have to give it up to the boy, though—regardless of how vehement people get, he always seems to keep that smile going. I’m not sure I could do that.

Anyway, I don’t know how or why, but my mind latched onto the conundrum of coexistence with others and the whole concept has been bouncing around in my brain—even during my meditations. (“Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Oh, here comes that coexistence thought. Wave to the nice subject as it goes by kids. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Looks like coexistence is passing through again. Everyone get out of the street! There it goes again. Breathe out. Breathe in….”)

In the post, Davey says: “But at the end of the day, we don’t all need to be on the same page; we don’t all need to be friends. But we do need to live together. We need to coexist. And as such, I think it makes sense to have a healthy appreciate for opinions, ideas, cultures and beliefs that aren’t our own (with the exception of racism, sexism and all the other -isms that minimize others).”

Here was the first place my brain paused. Did his statement just make sense? On one hand he says that we need to appreciate other opinions and beliefs and yet he excludes “-isms that minimize others”. That isn’t coexisting with everyone because he’s just blocked anyone who believes in an -ism.

Now, as one commentator responded: “In Iran (and other places I’m sure), they hang teenagers for being gay … I don’t need to live with these people or coexist with them. I need to see them disappear.” Obviously this person doesn’t believe that people of different opinions can coexist together. He seems to feel that the only way to live together is to get rid of everyone who doesn’t fit in his ideals.

A responder to that comment makes a point: “If you want people to accept your views and beliefs I feel it’s critical to set the example and respect theirs, whether or not you agree with them. I think it’s a crime against humanity to kill someone for choosing to be whatever they will be but if our reaction to that is crushing their system and replacing it with our own we are no better than they are.”

It was immediately argued by someone else: “I should respect the views of murderers, rapists and child molesters? If someone can’t tell good from evil, well then I just feel sorry for them. And if they can’t stand up to evil when they see it, they’re just cowards.”

To which the responder adds: “I understand that some of these behaviours are harmful while others aren’t. We have laws to deal with behaviours that are harmful. But hatred towards these people isn’t helpful in the least. Without some compassion we will never understand why people act as they do and believe as they do.”

The argument continued with: “…there ARE evil people out there. Rational, sane people recognize the difference between evil deeds and differences of opinion. Believing people deserve to die because they are gay is an opinion, killing them because they are gay is an evil deed. That is a line that sane, rational people do not cross.” This person at least makes the distinction between beliefs and actions, which is fairly valid point.

But I think this person summed up the conundrum best: “The inherent paradox of suggesting people should allow different viewpoints to “coexist” or suggesting that all beliefs are o.k. and valid for people to have is that eventually there will be beliefs that directly oppose *that* idea. There are some belief systems and viewpoints that specifically say one should convert others to yours, or that people who don’t see the world/believe like you are bad. . .”

For a while, this puzzle has been bouncing around in my head. There are people out there who say that this world would be a better place if everyone could just learn to live together, and yet what they really mean is that the world would be a better place if everyone believes just like me. Some say that we could live in harmony if only we got rid of the “evil” people— but who gets to dictate the definition of evil? Is it truly possible for people to coexist without putting any qualifiers or conditions on each other in order to have a harmonious relationship?

Somewhere along the line, the different fragments of thought that had been swimming in my gray matter began to fall into place. I get it—but I can’t seem to express what’s in my head. It’s like trying to explain to a van Gogh painting to a blind person or a Beethoven symphony to someone who is hearing impaired. It’s more than just the colors or the notes. There’s an experiential quality to them that just can’t be put into words.

But it’s not enough to just know. One has to live it, incorporate it into their actions—their being. The hard part is over, and yet the hard part hasn’t even begun.

This past weekend is still affecting me. Although time seems to have returned to a normal pace, my stamina hasn’t. I was doing alright during the jump rope and Strength section of the workout sheet, and I was still going strong at the beginning of the Agility section—that is, until I encountered the Kicks. My legs started getting more and more tired, I began sweating up a storm, and my form eventually went to hell. I think I was pretty much dead by that point. Thankfully I only had the Flexibility exercises to go. Hopefully the energy levels will return tomorrow.

Who knew the two late nights and a pretty killer walk over the past three days would whup my ass today? At work, I was dragging like anything and the clock advanced ever so slowly. Then I got home an did the exercises—still dragging and time was moving at a snail’s pace. Dinner and soon I’m going to bed. How does a day fly by and creep at the same time?!? Maybe tomorrow will be better.

Even though the past couple of nights were late ones (there I go again, staying up way past my bedtime), I managed to wake up around 7am to begin my very busy day. Knowing that I was going to be on the go most of the day, I decided to start out the morning with the exercises.

Breakfast was the same thing I pretty much have everyday: raw vegetables, a hard-boiled egg, an organic multi-grain cereal (extra fiber!), a slice of homemade multi-grain bread, and milk. (Yeah, I’m pretty boring on the meal front.) Then it was time to get ready and leave the house for the day.

First stop: the 18th Annual 5K Walk/10K Run for AIDS Community Resources. I have proudly participated in this event for the past four years. I count myself lucky that I haven’t lost any close friends to this disease, which makes it all the more important that I do something to help those who haven’t been as lucky.

The drive to the event was interesting to say the least. The weather was being very temperamental as it would change from sprinkling to torrential downpour back to sprinkling in a matter of minutes. Well, the AIDS Walk occurs rain or shine, so I made sure I had my umbrella with me.

Amazingly, the weather gave us a brief respite. The organizers had everyone line up—runners in front, walkers behind them. With the cry of “Ready, Set, Go” we were off!

I’ve learned from past experience that the best place to be is right behind the runners. I have a pretty quick stride and there’s nothing worse than getting stuck behind people who like to saunter and refuse to move out of the way no matter how much you try to excuse yourself. When you’re behind the runners, they take off like a shot which leaves a huge open space in front of you and all the saunterers are behind you.

With my iPod playing all of my quick-beat dance tunes, I was on the move. I quickly left the pack of walkers far behind me and was only a few steps behind some of the slowest runners I have ever seen. That didn’t last very long as they started slowing down while I continued my steady pace, eventually passing them and then leaving them in my wake.

As I rounded the last bend of the trail, one of the event organizers stood before me at the fork and asked me, “Are you a runner or walker?” (At this point the walkers went one direction to finish their 5K walk, while the runners when the other way to do their remaining 5K.)

“Walker,” I responded.

The organizer grabbed his megaphone and announced to the people at the finish line, “First walker coming through!” A big smile crossed my face at hearing that announcement. I was going to be the first walker to cross the finish line!

As I walked under the balloon archway set-up for the walkers, I turned and looked at the finish line for the runners. The first runner was crossing his finish line at the same time I was crossing mine. The timer over the runner’s finish line read “36:57″.

Although other runners came in shortly after the first one, it was a good ten or so minutes before the next walkers crossed under the balloon arch. The last walker finally crossed the line somewhere about an hour and fifteen minutes after we had started.

It’s still hard to believe that I did a 5K walk in 36 minutes! Of course, I think all of the warming up and stretching from the morning’s exercises helped immensely with the stamina and stride that my legs were producing. I was totally pumped by that achievement!

Unfortunately, the organizers don’t recognize this type of accomplishment from walkers, just runners. They held a ceremony to give out awards to the first runner in, oldest runner, youngest runner, first and second runners in different age groups, most participants, most money raised, and so on. Nothing for the first walker in. (I totally understand why they don’t. It’s very hard to judge walkers as someone could easily cheat and run most of the route and walk only at the end. It’s difficult to do that for a runner.)

However, some of my teammates didn’t like the perceive snub that I received for the amazing feat I had just performed. So they took it upon themselves to recognize me for my accomplishment.

I think I have found a new exercise that will replace the love/hate relationship I had with the Plank. “I have given a name to my pain, and it is Horse!”

The Horse Stance wasn’t that bad in the beginning, but at a hold of 40 seconds it is a killer. Which probably means that I’m doing it correctly.

The first set was no problem. The second set was a little harder. Set three found me starting to quiver during the last few seconds. The last set started my legs shaking and almost giving out. Pretty much the same experience I had way back when the Plank was introduced into the routine.

Someday we might be on speaking terms, Horse, but not today. Definitely not today.

At the time it sounded like a good idea. Well, actually it didn’t. It was more of an okay idea which I decided to go along with. Little did I realize that by the end of the night it would prove to be a really horrible idea.

After the meeting last night, a couple of our friends decided that they wanted to go out and grab some dinner. I hadn’t planned on dining out and I really didn’t want to stay up late, but my partner wanted to socialize with them and they promised it would be an early evening, so I acquiesced and a decision was made about where we were going to eat.

Now Friendly’s really doesn’t have the best menu in the world, but that was where they wanted to eat. I hadn’t been in that restaurant in quite some time, but I figured I could probably find something vegetarian and relatively healthy to munch on. So off we went to the nearby location.

Much to my surprise (not really), they offer little options for a vegetarian. Every salad is covered in meat, they don’t offer any veggie burger alternates, and about the only thing that came close to being somewhat vegetarian just so happened to be deep-fried. There wasn’t even any fruit offered! How sad is that?

Well, needless to say, I sat there while every ate their meals, sipping my tall glass of water. One friend apologetically offered some of their onion rings and I knew I would feel guilty if I refused them, so I took a couple and ate them.

After the dinner was finished, they all decided to get ice cream sundaes. Well, by that time I was feeling a little peckish, so I placed my order for some too. I knew it wasn’t going to be the greatest stuff, but it was at least something. The desserts arrived and were devoured in short order.

About 15 minutes later my stomach felt like someone had just kicked it. The most unpleasant cramps started settling in too. I was a little surprised to experience it, because I hadn’t felt that way for the longest time! But I knew what it was and what was going to happen.

I quickly urged my partner to pay the bill and we dashed out the door and flew home, all-the-while my stomach making the most horrific sounds and convulsing. We pulled into the driveway, I leaped from the car, into the house, and rushed into the bathroom—which is where I remained for the next half-hour or so.

One would think that would be the end of the story. Ha-ha! My body had other ideas.

Although things were mostly quiet throughout the night, when I got up this morning my stomach once again proceeded with more cramping and I had to spend a bit more time in the bathroom. This has actually gone on throughout a good part of the day. I have eaten very little in the way of any kind of food—diet or otherwise. The stomach wouldn’t handle it.

It finally started to quiet down this evening. The weird noises have stopped, and I haven’t had to spend a lot of time on the toilet. I’ve actually started feeling hungry now, so I’ll get something to eat. Everything should return to normal in a little bit.

I will say this—that is the last time I’m going to Friendly’s for quite a while. This whole experience made me remember why I hadn’t eaten there in a long time—it’s because their food has made my stomach do this before. Much of this occurred before I started living a healthy lifestyle and had been written off as quirks with my body. Now I know it’s just bad food. I am sure this experience will be firmly burned into my memory, and that will definitely remind me I’m never walking into that place again.

I am skipping out on KFB today—no workout whatsoever. This was not the original plan I had this morning. Unfortunately there were a number of circumstances that went way beyond my control.

As some of you read a couple days ago, I had a deadline to finish a newsletter. Today was the actual printing date. I knew there would be very little time for me to race to the printer, pick up the copies, run home, assemble it, have dinner, and fly to the meeting. So it seemed that KFB for today would be a bust.

Then I had this brilliant idea! My partner had the day off! I quickly called him this morning, told him to pick up the newsletter for the meeting tonight. In my mind, it all worked out—the newsletter would be finished which would leave me just enough time to workout, grab a little dinner, and then go to the meeting.

When I arrived home, I discovered that all plans had been thrown out the window. First thing I discovered was that the newsletter pages were spread out all over the table. That meant my partner didn’t assemble it. Of course, I realized that I never specifically told him to put it together—I just inferred it.

The second thing I noticed was that all of the pages were wet. When asked, he told me that he had walked to the local copy store to pick up the printed pages. Once he had paid for them, he put them into his backpack and walked home. Unfortunately he also had his water bottle in the backpack, and it leaked.

Seeing that everything was ruined, it was an emergency dash to go back to the printer, have the whole thing reprinted, fly home to assemble, quickly grab something out of the refrigerator, and—as soon as I finish writing this—zoom to the meeting.

So no KFB today. That sucks.

The message today indicates that a change of footwear is suggested. The big clunky sneakers are good for jumprope, but hinders the other movements. A light shoe is recommended, especially one with a flat sole, or we can go barefoot (depending on the ground/floor condition). What I’d really love to get is a pair of Robin’s toe-boots!

It’s amazing how much shoes really affect the stances! With the big clunky sneakers, I had no problem balancing on one foot. It almost felt like I was anchored to the floor.

I have a pair of deck shoes that I decided to try out. They are lightweight and have flat bottoms—and they launch like anything when you kick! Luckily all breakables and cats were not in the room when that occurred!

Then I went barefoot. I couldn’t believe how wobbly I was! It’s just so weird that I felt more stable in the big clunky sneakers than I was barefoot. I’m sure that will change over time as I get use to little to nothing on my feet when practicing.