So let's say someone decides to give Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu a try.
Most schools are pretty small, and so don't have programs dedicated to the needs of beginners. New students are normally mixed in with everybody else. Even so, there will only be a half-dozen or dozen students.
If you're lucky, they'll assign somebody to keep an eye on you and to be your partner for your first class.
There will be a warmup, and then the instructor will call everybody over, to explain and demonstrate the night's lesson. The chances that it will be something appropriate to a newby are incredibly low, so most likely you won't be able to make heads or tails of what's going on. People then go off to work on what they've just been shown. After a while, they get called back for the next section, and then more practice, and so on.
After perhaps half an hour of this, comes free-rolling time. Many schools describe new students as “fresh meat,” and only half in jest.
You and your partner roll for a few minutes, and then partners are swapped, and another roll, and another swap, and another roll. An equivalent would be going skiing for the first time at a resort that has no bunny hill, and where you are started out on a run called, “The Widow Maker.”
The chance that you'll be heading home without injury are dismally small.
I have met plenty of people who tried out Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu in just such an old-school environment, were injured, and never went back.
Most don't last more than one class, and for those that do, it doesn't get any better for a very long time. Those few that eventually find success in such an environment tend to be big, and strong, and athletic. Those the least likely to succeed are those for whom Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu was originally intended.
It wasn't always this way. When the Gracie Family first developed their art, it was taught one-on-one in private lessons. There was no rolling with anyone for a long time, and then only with their private instructor. His whole motivation was teaching, not dominating, and not on trying things out on his student.
When the art was spread to the USA by Rorion Gracie back in 1978, he also taught via private lessons. However, as things grew, this became impossible. One-on-one became the exception, rather than the rule as group teaching took over.
Status and promotion became the reward for being able to dominate other students on the mat. The better you rolled, the better you were regarded. The reverse was also true.
The original Jiu-Jitsu was a street-effective method of fighting, but what was being taught in the Academies became less and less focused on real combat. The goal was to gain maximum effectiveness in beating other trained, Jiu-Jitsu practitioners. Tournaments came along and accelerated this trend.
On the school mat, punching isn't allowed, or kicking. Neither is it acceptable in a tournament. Techniques were developed for just such a type of sparring, and mastered, in preference to those dealing with striking opponents.
Along came the birth of the UFC. In those early days of mma, pretty much anything was allowed, except for eye gouging and biting. It was as close to real-world fighting as could be imagined. It was a tournament-style setup in that 8 to 16 competitors from various fighting disciplines had at it. The winner of 3 out of the first 4 events was Rorion Gracie's younger brother Royce Gracie. He had been trained in the original real-fighting version of Jiu-Jitsu, and won easily.
This attracted even more students to the Academies.
They faced the lousy learning environment I've described above.
Things changed when day-to-day management of the main Gracie Academy in Los Angeles was passed on to Ryron and Rener Gracie, the two eldest sons of Rorion. At least things changed in their version of the art, called Gracie Jiu-Jitsu.
Ryron has said that classes were running at about 10 to 15 students. He and his brother decided that had to change things significantly to turn this around.
They developed a new curriculum for beginners based on the original teachings of their Grandfather Helio, and their father Rorion. They returned to a self-defence focus. It was both a return to the art's roots, and a response to the desire of prospective students.
Nobody ever walked in the door saying they wanted to take lessons, “in order to get good at rolling around on the floor with other Jiu-Jitsu people. I have no interest in learning how to protect myself if I'm really attacked.”
They also wanted Jiu-Jitsu to be more for everybody. This meant the dangers of rolling had to be eliminated from the beginner Combatives program. When the art was first created teaching was done safely through private lessons, but due to numbers this was no longer realistic for most students.
Students would work in group classes, containing people of every size, shape, age, and gender. Lessons would be explained, and partners grabbed to work with. Lots of senior students were around to help correct mistakes. Movements are learned in precise detail.
After several months of this, students get invited to an extra class called Reflex Development. This is where students first have to try and apply their skills in an unscripted environment. Occasionally, they are paired with a higher-ranked student who has been carefully trained in his role. They attack the student using the many aggressive moves that the student has been learning how to handle. The higher-ranked student never throws in some weird high-belt stuff in order to defeat or dominate their White Belt partner. They are there in the role of instructor; helping the student to succeed.
After a mandatory minimum of 8 months of such training students are permitted to test for promotion to Blue Belt. They must prove themselves able to do each and every one of the techniques that make up the Combatives curriculum, and to handle a 4 minute string of unscripted attacks by a higher-belt partner.
Receiving a Blue Belt is a pretty big deal. It marks graduation from the Combatives program, and transition into the advanced class.
This is where students start to learn all the other types of Jiu-Jitsu techniques, both street-applicable, and sports-oriented. It is also at this point that students start to free-roll.
You might think that this is when students become, “fresh meat,” but it isn't. They have enough skills so that they don't feel totally out of place. They have also learned when they are in danger, and know how and when to tap out.
Interestingly, as more and more higher belts are graduates of the Combatives program, they have brought the safety-consciousness and supportive attitude along with them. A fresh Blue Belt getting paired with a Brown Belt isn't a nightmare, but more like a five minute private lesson. Injury rates remain thankfully low.
The success of the system shows in the number of students who train at the Gracie Academy in LA. Before the program of Ryron and Rener Gracie, there were only a few classes a week. New students were mixed with old, and numbered from 10 to 15 people. Now they run 9 Combatives classes for White Belts every week. Attendance at each is typically about 30 to 50 students. They also have 2 weekly Reflex Development classes which are just as big. There are 11 advanced classes per week, and they attract even more students. They have also started spreading their system around the world, and have thousands more in their various programs.
This is the system that the Gracie Academy is spreading around the world.
I first gave their school near here a look-see about five years ago. What I beheld was the Combatives program in all its glory. If they had been a place where White Belts were expected to roll on the first day, I'd have walked right out. I was 55 at the time, and never would have survived. Now, five years later, I may not be able to beat every 25-year-old I spar with, but I am able to roll with them.
It's truly a great time to be a Gracie Jiu-Jitsu student.
I am a 68 year old retired teacher living on the west coast of Canada. I spent over 30 years as a student of Karate until my knees stopped liking it. My current passionate activity is Gracie Jiu-Jitsu, which I've been at for about 13 years.
Tuesday 31 May 2016
Thursday 26 May 2016
Cruise G (the end)
Our Cruise May 4-18 2016
After Ketchikan, we entered the last day aboard. It is always just a little sad, as it means things are coming to an end. In some ways I'm eager to move on, but not in others. I've grown accustomed to the rhythms of my onboard life. Getting home, however, lets me regain access to other things I enjoy.
We hit Vancouver pretty early, and the ship does its very best to get everybody off as soon as possible. For them it means an easier turn around, but it also helps us get on our way home.
For Helen and I, there is a city walk pushing our bags, a bus ride to the ferry terminal, a ferry trip, a second bus ride, and a transfer to a third bus. If that all runs, we end up at a bus stop a mile from home. One of us then goes to get the car. That final mile is too steep for hauling our sofa-sized bags comfortably. This all gets followed by a marathon of unpacking and laundry.
A quick estimation says we can make it to the 11:20am ferry with ease. Even a major delay somewhere would have us on the next boat at 1:20pm. Assuming the earlier sailing, we can reach our local bus stop by 1:15pm (the later voyage would be two hours later), and unloaded at home by 1:30. Anything along those lines will see me on the mat at Jiu-Jitsu by evening. I've been missing that.
I am also interested to do an official weigh-in. My impression is that I am up in weight, but I don't really know, and have no clue by how much. Any gain being above 175 pounds will have me working to shrink back down. I don't think that will take long once we are home.
My goal for running was to crank out an average of 8km per day for each of the 15 days that the cruise touched, minus the days for loading, unloading, and the mid-point in Vancouver. That would have totaled 96km, but I've actually done a hair more, reaching 105.52km. At home, where I don't run on a hamster treadmill, it's easy to crank out more miles each day, to be more active in general, and to not eat like a piggy.
Our final time aboard is creeping up upon us. We have one more "Happy Hour", a final dinner, an evening, and then a morning of shuffling ashore. It is special in that Bernie is having his birthday. He would be mortified if we got the dining room staff to sing to him, or got a cake, or anything like that at all. Public display would be cruel, and I think he is in dread of us doing any such nonsense. We will not. All we have is a card, and silly hats for the privacy of our Happy Hour. Beyond that, we will let him choose dining room or buffet for supper. I suspect it will be the dining room, but really have no idea.
Everybody's big bags get packed, tagged, and put out in the hall in the evening, leaving us only Helen's personal bag, ukulele, and one small shoulder suitcase. We pick up the hefty ones again onshore just before customs clearance. It all goes remarkably smoothly considering that they have to politely shoo over 1,400 of us ashore, to be immediately replaced by 1,400 fresh faces. At the start of the voyage, we were the only ship doing a turnaround, but a week later the port had to handle our human cargo, plus that of two more vessels. The numbers involved are quite staggering.
We've been in port in Fort Lauderdale when there were five ships in port. We were in a ship holding twice as many passengers as our current little one, and we were only the second-largest cruise ship present. I would estimate the turn-around on that day to have easily been 20,000 people disembarking and another 20,000 loading aboard. An ordinary day for a port like that.
So I am sitting in the Lido buffet area at 5:30am as the ship passes by Gibsons and Bowen Island. I have already screwed up, having lost my keycard, and redeemed myself by getting it replaced before the crazy lineups start. I think the original is in my pants, which are in my big suitcase, which is in the bowels of the ship. Doesn't matter.
My smaller iPad is already hooked up to Telus cellular data, and thinks it's home already. It is, sort of. I have sent a message to somebody who wants to know if I'll be at open mat this coming Saturday, and checked the news for any changes in the transit labour dispute. It looks like there will be no issues getting home.
It all went perfectly nicely, and we were home in the early afternoon. I am rightfully fed up with the big, fat bags. If we take such monsters again, I'm parking the car at the cruise terminal in Vancouver, whatever the cost.
All done for another season.
After Ketchikan, we entered the last day aboard. It is always just a little sad, as it means things are coming to an end. In some ways I'm eager to move on, but not in others. I've grown accustomed to the rhythms of my onboard life. Getting home, however, lets me regain access to other things I enjoy.
We hit Vancouver pretty early, and the ship does its very best to get everybody off as soon as possible. For them it means an easier turn around, but it also helps us get on our way home.
For Helen and I, there is a city walk pushing our bags, a bus ride to the ferry terminal, a ferry trip, a second bus ride, and a transfer to a third bus. If that all runs, we end up at a bus stop a mile from home. One of us then goes to get the car. That final mile is too steep for hauling our sofa-sized bags comfortably. This all gets followed by a marathon of unpacking and laundry.
A quick estimation says we can make it to the 11:20am ferry with ease. Even a major delay somewhere would have us on the next boat at 1:20pm. Assuming the earlier sailing, we can reach our local bus stop by 1:15pm (the later voyage would be two hours later), and unloaded at home by 1:30. Anything along those lines will see me on the mat at Jiu-Jitsu by evening. I've been missing that.
I am also interested to do an official weigh-in. My impression is that I am up in weight, but I don't really know, and have no clue by how much. Any gain being above 175 pounds will have me working to shrink back down. I don't think that will take long once we are home.
My goal for running was to crank out an average of 8km per day for each of the 15 days that the cruise touched, minus the days for loading, unloading, and the mid-point in Vancouver. That would have totaled 96km, but I've actually done a hair more, reaching 105.52km. At home, where I don't run on a hamster treadmill, it's easy to crank out more miles each day, to be more active in general, and to not eat like a piggy.
Our final time aboard is creeping up upon us. We have one more "Happy Hour", a final dinner, an evening, and then a morning of shuffling ashore. It is special in that Bernie is having his birthday. He would be mortified if we got the dining room staff to sing to him, or got a cake, or anything like that at all. Public display would be cruel, and I think he is in dread of us doing any such nonsense. We will not. All we have is a card, and silly hats for the privacy of our Happy Hour. Beyond that, we will let him choose dining room or buffet for supper. I suspect it will be the dining room, but really have no idea.
Everybody's big bags get packed, tagged, and put out in the hall in the evening, leaving us only Helen's personal bag, ukulele, and one small shoulder suitcase. We pick up the hefty ones again onshore just before customs clearance. It all goes remarkably smoothly considering that they have to politely shoo over 1,400 of us ashore, to be immediately replaced by 1,400 fresh faces. At the start of the voyage, we were the only ship doing a turnaround, but a week later the port had to handle our human cargo, plus that of two more vessels. The numbers involved are quite staggering.
We've been in port in Fort Lauderdale when there were five ships in port. We were in a ship holding twice as many passengers as our current little one, and we were only the second-largest cruise ship present. I would estimate the turn-around on that day to have easily been 20,000 people disembarking and another 20,000 loading aboard. An ordinary day for a port like that.
So I am sitting in the Lido buffet area at 5:30am as the ship passes by Gibsons and Bowen Island. I have already screwed up, having lost my keycard, and redeemed myself by getting it replaced before the crazy lineups start. I think the original is in my pants, which are in my big suitcase, which is in the bowels of the ship. Doesn't matter.
My smaller iPad is already hooked up to Telus cellular data, and thinks it's home already. It is, sort of. I have sent a message to somebody who wants to know if I'll be at open mat this coming Saturday, and checked the news for any changes in the transit labour dispute. It looks like there will be no issues getting home.
It all went perfectly nicely, and we were home in the early afternoon. I am rightfully fed up with the big, fat bags. If we take such monsters again, I'm parking the car at the cruise terminal in Vancouver, whatever the cost.
All done for another season.
Wednesday 25 May 2016
Cruise F
Our Cruise May 4-18 2016
It is another Tracy Arm/Juneau day, just like last week, except with spectacularly good weather. We'll be seeing vistas that were invisible last time, and walking/running in Juneau without any driving rain.
The town day went well. Breakfast, and then lunch, were in the buffet, and perfect. Afterwards, we played a trivia game up in the lounge with the best view of the approaching town. We did well, but didn't win. Lola and Bernie headed off to do their own thing, and Helen got ready to go to town. I put on my running gear, and was one of the first ashore. I ran south from the cruise docks away from town.
The route was pleasant enough, but I was boiling. The temperature was officially 22, but felt ten degrees hotter than that. By the time I turned around at the 4.5km mark, my clothing was soaked with sweat. I was overheating by the time I got back, and was glad I hadn't tried to go further.
Showered, and left a note for Helen as to where I'd be, then wedged myself comfortably into one of the low-slung library chairs with my pair of iPads. I sat down, and let the beautiful scene laid out beyond the massive window before me lull me to sleep.
I awoke to find Lola and Bernie in the matching chairs beside me, and we were joined a while later by Helen. We all described our activities; my run, Lola and Bernie's shopping, and Helen's expedition to the library to find wifi.
Somewhere in all that, I sauntered over to the dining room and returned with iPad photos of the evening menu. Can't go cold into dinner. One needs to consider all the menu options.
As our suppertime is 5:30pm, and our ship only got to Juneau after 1pm, we had cancelled Happy Hour. Just not enough hours in the day. The plan got modified into having Happy Hour after dinner rather than before. As the show isn't until 8pm, that should work well. We do NEED a Happy Hour, as we have all that booze to work our way through. Tonight I intend to crack open a bottle of Sheridans. The closest drink I can compare it to is Bailey's Cream, but it's yummier than that. It is about 1% stronger than wine and has a delicious creamy fountain-drink kind of appeal.
Of course, you can't get it in either Canada or the USA, except on cruise ships. I would buy a case, and just pay the duty, but BC has the most Byzantine rules in Canada about such things. Sheridans doesn't fit any normal category, and there is absolutely no way to know what tariff the border people might slap onto it. 25% would be fine, and fair, but maybe it would be 100%, or even double that. There's no way to know, and so I'm not bringing in any more that our tax-free allowance. Happily, our booze system has some for me to glug while on board.
A perfect weather day awaited me as I awoke early for our second Skagway day. We did well during week one, but week two has been unbelievable.
I do have a few pet peeves with cruising. The biggest of these is how they do the internet. The first thing to know is that it is crappy, being delivered to the ship by satellite. The next issue is that travelers staying in even the cheapest budget motels get better internet, and have come to expect it to be free of charge.
Let's take a real-world example. Holland America has a 111 day round-the-world cruise starting next January. Outside cabins start at $20,000 per person. It is my opinion that internet should be provided free, or at a very nominal cost. Let's just say you want to do that, and that your normal routine includes a little interneting every day; check the email, message a couple of friends, check Facebook, look something up about the next port. Buying tiny bundles of minutes wouldn't work, as they aren't the same as real internet minutes. I can get a remarkable amount done in 15 minutes at home, but with a ship-slow and intermittent connection a quarter hour is a uselessly small time budget. One would need a half-hour a day to get anything done at all. Their absolute cheapest package is $0.25 per minute. At that rate, you'd have to add $900 to the price of the cruise... to get spotty, slow, minimal internet for a single device. Rat bastards.
There are a few other things that this ship does that bugs me. Take the pool situation. They have a small one outside, and the main one is in the center of deck 8, and has a retractable roof. This is a wonderful idea. In places like the Caribbean, they can open it up, and in Alaska, close it. We've been on tons of Alaska cruises, and spent many happy hours in and around the pools with retractable roofs. They are great, but this one sucks. They never totally close it. Sometimes it is fully open, sometimes about halfway, and the tightest they've ever shut it has left about a six-foot-wide gap in the middle clear across the ship. It has never gotten anywhere near warm, and as a result, the pool is always empty, except for a very few brave souls. The area around the pool is all set up for sunbathing, but people don't use those lounge chairs. It is too cold.
At one point in Skagway, they had the roof in its almost-closed, six-foot-wide position, and there were a handful of folks on the lounge chairs as it was a very warm day for Alaska. That didn't last long, as somebody soon cranked the roof out to the fully-open position, and the lounging guest all ran for cover.
They also have some kind of fetish about authentic varnish. There are wooden rails everywhere covered with it. All very well and good, except to keep it looking nice there have to be crew members aboard whose only task is to be constantly sanding and varnishing. The smell is pretty intense, and drives people away. We had one spa day when everybody present was complaining about it. I don't mind fumes much, but my eyes were watering. The funny thing is, there are more modern products that look exactly like varnish, are more durable, and don't stink when applied.
Why the real, old-school varnish?
It is another Tracy Arm/Juneau day, just like last week, except with spectacularly good weather. We'll be seeing vistas that were invisible last time, and walking/running in Juneau without any driving rain.
The town day went well. Breakfast, and then lunch, were in the buffet, and perfect. Afterwards, we played a trivia game up in the lounge with the best view of the approaching town. We did well, but didn't win. Lola and Bernie headed off to do their own thing, and Helen got ready to go to town. I put on my running gear, and was one of the first ashore. I ran south from the cruise docks away from town.
The route was pleasant enough, but I was boiling. The temperature was officially 22, but felt ten degrees hotter than that. By the time I turned around at the 4.5km mark, my clothing was soaked with sweat. I was overheating by the time I got back, and was glad I hadn't tried to go further.
Showered, and left a note for Helen as to where I'd be, then wedged myself comfortably into one of the low-slung library chairs with my pair of iPads. I sat down, and let the beautiful scene laid out beyond the massive window before me lull me to sleep.
I awoke to find Lola and Bernie in the matching chairs beside me, and we were joined a while later by Helen. We all described our activities; my run, Lola and Bernie's shopping, and Helen's expedition to the library to find wifi.
Somewhere in all that, I sauntered over to the dining room and returned with iPad photos of the evening menu. Can't go cold into dinner. One needs to consider all the menu options.
As our suppertime is 5:30pm, and our ship only got to Juneau after 1pm, we had cancelled Happy Hour. Just not enough hours in the day. The plan got modified into having Happy Hour after dinner rather than before. As the show isn't until 8pm, that should work well. We do NEED a Happy Hour, as we have all that booze to work our way through. Tonight I intend to crack open a bottle of Sheridans. The closest drink I can compare it to is Bailey's Cream, but it's yummier than that. It is about 1% stronger than wine and has a delicious creamy fountain-drink kind of appeal.
Of course, you can't get it in either Canada or the USA, except on cruise ships. I would buy a case, and just pay the duty, but BC has the most Byzantine rules in Canada about such things. Sheridans doesn't fit any normal category, and there is absolutely no way to know what tariff the border people might slap onto it. 25% would be fine, and fair, but maybe it would be 100%, or even double that. There's no way to know, and so I'm not bringing in any more that our tax-free allowance. Happily, our booze system has some for me to glug while on board.
A perfect weather day awaited me as I awoke early for our second Skagway day. We did well during week one, but week two has been unbelievable.
I do have a few pet peeves with cruising. The biggest of these is how they do the internet. The first thing to know is that it is crappy, being delivered to the ship by satellite. The next issue is that travelers staying in even the cheapest budget motels get better internet, and have come to expect it to be free of charge.
Let's take a real-world example. Holland America has a 111 day round-the-world cruise starting next January. Outside cabins start at $20,000 per person. It is my opinion that internet should be provided free, or at a very nominal cost. Let's just say you want to do that, and that your normal routine includes a little interneting every day; check the email, message a couple of friends, check Facebook, look something up about the next port. Buying tiny bundles of minutes wouldn't work, as they aren't the same as real internet minutes. I can get a remarkable amount done in 15 minutes at home, but with a ship-slow and intermittent connection a quarter hour is a uselessly small time budget. One would need a half-hour a day to get anything done at all. Their absolute cheapest package is $0.25 per minute. At that rate, you'd have to add $900 to the price of the cruise... to get spotty, slow, minimal internet for a single device. Rat bastards.
There are a few other things that this ship does that bugs me. Take the pool situation. They have a small one outside, and the main one is in the center of deck 8, and has a retractable roof. This is a wonderful idea. In places like the Caribbean, they can open it up, and in Alaska, close it. We've been on tons of Alaska cruises, and spent many happy hours in and around the pools with retractable roofs. They are great, but this one sucks. They never totally close it. Sometimes it is fully open, sometimes about halfway, and the tightest they've ever shut it has left about a six-foot-wide gap in the middle clear across the ship. It has never gotten anywhere near warm, and as a result, the pool is always empty, except for a very few brave souls. The area around the pool is all set up for sunbathing, but people don't use those lounge chairs. It is too cold.
At one point in Skagway, they had the roof in its almost-closed, six-foot-wide position, and there were a handful of folks on the lounge chairs as it was a very warm day for Alaska. That didn't last long, as somebody soon cranked the roof out to the fully-open position, and the lounging guest all ran for cover.
They also have some kind of fetish about authentic varnish. There are wooden rails everywhere covered with it. All very well and good, except to keep it looking nice there have to be crew members aboard whose only task is to be constantly sanding and varnishing. The smell is pretty intense, and drives people away. We had one spa day when everybody present was complaining about it. I don't mind fumes much, but my eyes were watering. The funny thing is, there are more modern products that look exactly like varnish, are more durable, and don't stink when applied.
Why the real, old-school varnish?
Tuesday 24 May 2016
Cruise E
Our Cruise May 4-18 2016
Day seven had a bad start for me. Helen kept going until 10:30 last night, which was transformed by the magic of time zones into 11:30. This is way, way too late for me. Woke up for dawn coffee, but unusually groggy.
The good part was that as it was a sea day, there is nothing really happening in regards to scheduling. An excellent day for a nap or even two. I think there is also a tango lesson in there somewhere, and a run needs to happen on the hamster wheel. How will I pack it all in?
After a week onboard, my breakfasts have settled into a solid pattern. In the early hours, I drink coffee, and some tropical juice. At that time I eat two croissants. Official breakfast is at 8am, and is more juice, a couple more croissants, and some oatmeal. Then my stomach is off-the-clock until lunch at noon.
We have already received our instructions on how things are supposed to work for the turn-around in Vancouver. There is a system of transit passengers to avoid many of the lines. We'll see. Bernie and Lola need to grab their car from the parking area, and run Phyllis out to her home in Langley. After that, they are parking at the airport, which is cheaper, and catching a taxi or the subway back to the boat.
Helen hasn't voiced any Vancouver plans. There is an Apple Store quite near to the cruise terminal, and there is an item I want to pick up. We'll also get access to about the best wifi anywhere while there, which will be sweet for maybe half an hour. We also need to find a wine store to replenish our two-bottle allowance. We had 5 bottles between all of us for the first week. None was consumed on our loading day, or will be on our return to Vancouver. Each bottle lasts for one "happy hour", but somehow we seem to have one bottle too many. That means that we'll have the same amount for week two, and less people to share with. Wheee.
Turned out I was wrong about the booze. We finished the last bottle of wine on the last day, but between the four of us will be bringing aboard four more bottles tomorrow. In addition, we got the ship to cough up four bottles of hard liquour as well (which we paid for). They only deliver onboard booze purchases on the last evening before guests leave, which would be next week, but we had our departing guest do the buying for us. We have it all tucked away already, and as we have no intention of taking it ashore at this time, will have plenty to drink at happy hour. When we finally go, we will take any unused supplies off through customs. We are all allowed one bottle each, so might even buy a bit more to replace what we will have consumed.
So tonight, Phyllis had her last dinner aboard. She is also facing her last theatrical show soon, and needs to pack her stuff up in preparation for departure. The last day of a cruise is always sad for the departing guests, so the rest of us have to try and not seem too gleeful at being able to stay. If she was not leaving us, we would all be skipping around like kindergarteners at a birthday party.
The Vancouver turn-around stuff went very well. Our booze had all arrived, so the four of us staying had 2 bottles of vodka, 2 bottles of Sheridan's, and we brought aboard our second-cruise allowance of 4 bottles of wine. More than enough.
After a nice breakfast, Lola and Bernie disembarked with Phyllis, to take her to her home in Langley. After that they were parking in a different long-term lot, and returning to the boat via the subway. Helen and I waited aboard a bit longer, as our neither of our two stops on shore were opening before 10am.
The system for continuing passengers, or passengers "in transit" went smoothly. We got to avoid the customs lines leaving the ship, and took routes that avoided all the luggage pick-up zones. We more-or-less walked straight off.
A couple of blocks later and we were in a mall, waiting for the Apple Store to open. We used their fine wifi to check our mail, and Facebook, and the news. When the store opened, I went straight in and was helped by a staffer to find the correct stuff that I was looking for which would make my iPad Pro charging go much faster.
Helen was still using their internet, so I updated a bunch of things, and then we walked the mall. It wasn't a big place, so we were on the street again pretty fast. Another couple of blocks went by in reaching the Government Liquor Store closest to the ship. They had an inexpensive wine that I like, and it was on sale. We got it for $7 a bottle. We returned to the ship by passing through the old Canadian Pacific Railway terminal. It has all been refurbished, and trains haven't stopped there for years. It is now a Skytrain station, and hosts a cluster of restaurants; a pleasant diversion.
Returning as "in transit" passengers was almost as swift as our disembarkation. We wound our way following the in-transit/crew route, bypassing the lines. We were waved straight to the security check, and had to wait for one couple at customs. At each of these spots, we skipped by a hundred new guests. We walked right by the third loading lineup, which is to actually check-in, but we were already all set, and went right back aboard. It was time for lunch.
We set up in the comfy, low chairs in the library area, Helen was texting friends, but I was soon engulfed by a nap, which ended when Lola and Bernie returned from their adventures. After a bit of conversation, it was time for the safety drill, which we followed with Happy Hour, where we killed our first fresh bottle of wine. Dinner followed.
For the first cruise there were 5 of us, and we were given our own table for 6. Our table remained the same, but they gave us 2 new companions.
After dining, we walked the lovely, teak promenade deck, and even got so crazy that we investigated the onboard passenger laundry. It smelled like dirty diapers. After all that, we went our separate ways. Helen set herself up to watch an old movie provided on DVD by the ship, while I headed off to the show. They had the exact same performance last week, but I liked it, as it was full of singing and dancing by the ship's extremely talented entertainment team. Then bedtime.
Slept in a tad for day eight. After my show last night, which didn't finish until about 10:15, Helen was watching a movie. She had the volume very low, but the rooms are small and it made it hard to fall asleep. Much have taken me 30 minutes to nod off, which is about ten times more than what is normal for me. In any case, I slept in until almost 6am.
We had all agreed to switch up our morning eating routine. We all had been enjoying the dining-room breakfasts, but they do take a fair chunk of time. For cruise two, we were switching over to the buffet. Bernie had a full breakfast already during early-morning time.
There wasn't a lot that I had picked from the schedule to do for day eight. Other than meals, the only must-do was the treadmill; 8 km was in the sweaty room waiting for me. After supper, the show would be one of the singing-and-dancing extravaganzas, so that was also firmly on my radar, but that was still off in the distant future.
The morning run was dull again, but by now I'd developed many little time-killing games, like speeding up a while, then slowing down, then not looking at the display again until the next song would come up on my iPod, then staring at the sea for another song; stuff like that. It never got less than tedious.
I don't think anybody in my group really understands how important my runs are to me. I don't want to balloon up in weight, nor to deprive myself of eating pleasure. Over these two weeks of cruising, I fully expect to complete a minimum of 104 kilometers. That's the equivalent of running about 2.5 full marathons. That's a lot of desserts.
Returning to my room, I found Helen playing her ukulele. This was the first time I'd seen it out of its case. I laid my sweaty self down on the bed to listen. It was wonderful, except for the sweat.
I think that this was my favourite day.
Lunch was at the buffet as well, although we called it "the trough". I think I actually consume less there than in the dining room. My breakfast usually consisted of 2 small croissants, juice, coffee, then more juice, coffee, croissants, juice, and at least oatmeal. Today it was the 2 small croissants, coffee and juice, and no more. Less than half in total, and just as satisfying. At lunch and dinner in the dining room, I tend to order all the appetizers that I might conceivably want, and an entree, and all the interesting desserts. At the buffet, it's all out in plain view. I might eat a bit more as an entree, but much less in the way of appetizers or desserts. I thought it would be the other way around, but was totally wrong.
Shortly after lunch, Bernie and I went for a $12 per person beer tasting. Once upon a time, we did a fancy schmancy wine tasting, where all the snooty drinks tasted like old saddles. We had a great time making fun of them, and of the pretentious people claiming to detect fruity, oaky and nutty notes. The only flavour was saddle, I swear. Beer is a less snooty thing, with a wider range of actual flavours.
I get a kick out of the misconceptions people have about ships. For example; one of our group doesn't want to cruise on the Royal Caribbean line's Oasis class of ships. They are the biggest passenger vessels in the world. She is quite convinced that they each hold 10,000 passengers, who are crazy packed in. In comparison to our current vessel, the reality is quite different.
Ship size is measured in tons, but of a type that have nothing to do with weight. Ship tons measure volume, or physical size. Each ton is 1000 cubic feet.
Our current ship is about 63,000 tons and carries up to 1,400 passengers. That works out to roughly 45 tons per person. The Oasis class ships are about 4 times as big at around 240,000 tons, and carry 6,000 guests (not 10,000). On those ships each person has a similar amount of space as in our smaller ship. However, his is even if one only considers the overall size, and not the increased efficiencies caused by that size. A ship like the Oasis really has more like 60 tons of usable space per person, which is a significant increase, and it is all utilized in the public areas to the betterment of all passengers.
Typically, on bigger ships, the cabins are just a little bit bigger, and the hallways a hair wider. The splurges in space are spent in the areas of maximum usability and impact. The dining rooms are shared by all, and are spectacular. This ship has a 3-deck atrium. The big ships have them spanning at least a dozen decks. The pools are bigger, and more numerous. The shopping isn't a couple of closet-sized cubbies, but expand into complete malls surrounded by eateries, and gardens. I like my ships big.
My body doesn't like clock changes much, and at this point in the voyage we hit our third; once getting to Alaska, and then again the other way returning to Vancouver, and now again entering Alaskan waters. I awoke at 5am Vancouver time, which here is 4am Alaskan time. Stupid clocks.
About the only advantage to getting up this extra-stupidly early, is that I have absolutely nothing to do. As a result, I've been reviewing the only two Jiu-Jitsu training videos I have, from end-to-end. I am finding hidden gems tucked in amongst the main flow of the two lessons. These are latched onto, and thoroughly thought about. I expected to miss two Master Cycle classes last week, three this week, and one next week, and to also miss out on a total of 4 open-mat times. That's ten hours of training gone. With my videos so far, I've reclaimed about two hours worth, and they are a bit different than I normally drill. They would easily be worth another couple of review hours, cutting my lost training again. Instead of losing ten hours, it will only be six. That's a significant change for the better. If I can return with only a single one of the points I've been finding added to my repertoire, it will be worth even more than that. I also have written notes from other Los Angeles visits that should be worth a going over.
Day seven had a bad start for me. Helen kept going until 10:30 last night, which was transformed by the magic of time zones into 11:30. This is way, way too late for me. Woke up for dawn coffee, but unusually groggy.
The good part was that as it was a sea day, there is nothing really happening in regards to scheduling. An excellent day for a nap or even two. I think there is also a tango lesson in there somewhere, and a run needs to happen on the hamster wheel. How will I pack it all in?
After a week onboard, my breakfasts have settled into a solid pattern. In the early hours, I drink coffee, and some tropical juice. At that time I eat two croissants. Official breakfast is at 8am, and is more juice, a couple more croissants, and some oatmeal. Then my stomach is off-the-clock until lunch at noon.
We have already received our instructions on how things are supposed to work for the turn-around in Vancouver. There is a system of transit passengers to avoid many of the lines. We'll see. Bernie and Lola need to grab their car from the parking area, and run Phyllis out to her home in Langley. After that, they are parking at the airport, which is cheaper, and catching a taxi or the subway back to the boat.
Helen hasn't voiced any Vancouver plans. There is an Apple Store quite near to the cruise terminal, and there is an item I want to pick up. We'll also get access to about the best wifi anywhere while there, which will be sweet for maybe half an hour. We also need to find a wine store to replenish our two-bottle allowance. We had 5 bottles between all of us for the first week. None was consumed on our loading day, or will be on our return to Vancouver. Each bottle lasts for one "happy hour", but somehow we seem to have one bottle too many. That means that we'll have the same amount for week two, and less people to share with. Wheee.
Turned out I was wrong about the booze. We finished the last bottle of wine on the last day, but between the four of us will be bringing aboard four more bottles tomorrow. In addition, we got the ship to cough up four bottles of hard liquour as well (which we paid for). They only deliver onboard booze purchases on the last evening before guests leave, which would be next week, but we had our departing guest do the buying for us. We have it all tucked away already, and as we have no intention of taking it ashore at this time, will have plenty to drink at happy hour. When we finally go, we will take any unused supplies off through customs. We are all allowed one bottle each, so might even buy a bit more to replace what we will have consumed.
So tonight, Phyllis had her last dinner aboard. She is also facing her last theatrical show soon, and needs to pack her stuff up in preparation for departure. The last day of a cruise is always sad for the departing guests, so the rest of us have to try and not seem too gleeful at being able to stay. If she was not leaving us, we would all be skipping around like kindergarteners at a birthday party.
The Vancouver turn-around stuff went very well. Our booze had all arrived, so the four of us staying had 2 bottles of vodka, 2 bottles of Sheridan's, and we brought aboard our second-cruise allowance of 4 bottles of wine. More than enough.
After a nice breakfast, Lola and Bernie disembarked with Phyllis, to take her to her home in Langley. After that they were parking in a different long-term lot, and returning to the boat via the subway. Helen and I waited aboard a bit longer, as our neither of our two stops on shore were opening before 10am.
The system for continuing passengers, or passengers "in transit" went smoothly. We got to avoid the customs lines leaving the ship, and took routes that avoided all the luggage pick-up zones. We more-or-less walked straight off.
A couple of blocks later and we were in a mall, waiting for the Apple Store to open. We used their fine wifi to check our mail, and Facebook, and the news. When the store opened, I went straight in and was helped by a staffer to find the correct stuff that I was looking for which would make my iPad Pro charging go much faster.
Helen was still using their internet, so I updated a bunch of things, and then we walked the mall. It wasn't a big place, so we were on the street again pretty fast. Another couple of blocks went by in reaching the Government Liquor Store closest to the ship. They had an inexpensive wine that I like, and it was on sale. We got it for $7 a bottle. We returned to the ship by passing through the old Canadian Pacific Railway terminal. It has all been refurbished, and trains haven't stopped there for years. It is now a Skytrain station, and hosts a cluster of restaurants; a pleasant diversion.
Returning as "in transit" passengers was almost as swift as our disembarkation. We wound our way following the in-transit/crew route, bypassing the lines. We were waved straight to the security check, and had to wait for one couple at customs. At each of these spots, we skipped by a hundred new guests. We walked right by the third loading lineup, which is to actually check-in, but we were already all set, and went right back aboard. It was time for lunch.
We set up in the comfy, low chairs in the library area, Helen was texting friends, but I was soon engulfed by a nap, which ended when Lola and Bernie returned from their adventures. After a bit of conversation, it was time for the safety drill, which we followed with Happy Hour, where we killed our first fresh bottle of wine. Dinner followed.
For the first cruise there were 5 of us, and we were given our own table for 6. Our table remained the same, but they gave us 2 new companions.
After dining, we walked the lovely, teak promenade deck, and even got so crazy that we investigated the onboard passenger laundry. It smelled like dirty diapers. After all that, we went our separate ways. Helen set herself up to watch an old movie provided on DVD by the ship, while I headed off to the show. They had the exact same performance last week, but I liked it, as it was full of singing and dancing by the ship's extremely talented entertainment team. Then bedtime.
Slept in a tad for day eight. After my show last night, which didn't finish until about 10:15, Helen was watching a movie. She had the volume very low, but the rooms are small and it made it hard to fall asleep. Much have taken me 30 minutes to nod off, which is about ten times more than what is normal for me. In any case, I slept in until almost 6am.
We had all agreed to switch up our morning eating routine. We all had been enjoying the dining-room breakfasts, but they do take a fair chunk of time. For cruise two, we were switching over to the buffet. Bernie had a full breakfast already during early-morning time.
There wasn't a lot that I had picked from the schedule to do for day eight. Other than meals, the only must-do was the treadmill; 8 km was in the sweaty room waiting for me. After supper, the show would be one of the singing-and-dancing extravaganzas, so that was also firmly on my radar, but that was still off in the distant future.
The morning run was dull again, but by now I'd developed many little time-killing games, like speeding up a while, then slowing down, then not looking at the display again until the next song would come up on my iPod, then staring at the sea for another song; stuff like that. It never got less than tedious.
I don't think anybody in my group really understands how important my runs are to me. I don't want to balloon up in weight, nor to deprive myself of eating pleasure. Over these two weeks of cruising, I fully expect to complete a minimum of 104 kilometers. That's the equivalent of running about 2.5 full marathons. That's a lot of desserts.
Returning to my room, I found Helen playing her ukulele. This was the first time I'd seen it out of its case. I laid my sweaty self down on the bed to listen. It was wonderful, except for the sweat.
I think that this was my favourite day.
Lunch was at the buffet as well, although we called it "the trough". I think I actually consume less there than in the dining room. My breakfast usually consisted of 2 small croissants, juice, coffee, then more juice, coffee, croissants, juice, and at least oatmeal. Today it was the 2 small croissants, coffee and juice, and no more. Less than half in total, and just as satisfying. At lunch and dinner in the dining room, I tend to order all the appetizers that I might conceivably want, and an entree, and all the interesting desserts. At the buffet, it's all out in plain view. I might eat a bit more as an entree, but much less in the way of appetizers or desserts. I thought it would be the other way around, but was totally wrong.
Shortly after lunch, Bernie and I went for a $12 per person beer tasting. Once upon a time, we did a fancy schmancy wine tasting, where all the snooty drinks tasted like old saddles. We had a great time making fun of them, and of the pretentious people claiming to detect fruity, oaky and nutty notes. The only flavour was saddle, I swear. Beer is a less snooty thing, with a wider range of actual flavours.
I get a kick out of the misconceptions people have about ships. For example; one of our group doesn't want to cruise on the Royal Caribbean line's Oasis class of ships. They are the biggest passenger vessels in the world. She is quite convinced that they each hold 10,000 passengers, who are crazy packed in. In comparison to our current vessel, the reality is quite different.
Ship size is measured in tons, but of a type that have nothing to do with weight. Ship tons measure volume, or physical size. Each ton is 1000 cubic feet.
Our current ship is about 63,000 tons and carries up to 1,400 passengers. That works out to roughly 45 tons per person. The Oasis class ships are about 4 times as big at around 240,000 tons, and carry 6,000 guests (not 10,000). On those ships each person has a similar amount of space as in our smaller ship. However, his is even if one only considers the overall size, and not the increased efficiencies caused by that size. A ship like the Oasis really has more like 60 tons of usable space per person, which is a significant increase, and it is all utilized in the public areas to the betterment of all passengers.
Typically, on bigger ships, the cabins are just a little bit bigger, and the hallways a hair wider. The splurges in space are spent in the areas of maximum usability and impact. The dining rooms are shared by all, and are spectacular. This ship has a 3-deck atrium. The big ships have them spanning at least a dozen decks. The pools are bigger, and more numerous. The shopping isn't a couple of closet-sized cubbies, but expand into complete malls surrounded by eateries, and gardens. I like my ships big.
My body doesn't like clock changes much, and at this point in the voyage we hit our third; once getting to Alaska, and then again the other way returning to Vancouver, and now again entering Alaskan waters. I awoke at 5am Vancouver time, which here is 4am Alaskan time. Stupid clocks.
About the only advantage to getting up this extra-stupidly early, is that I have absolutely nothing to do. As a result, I've been reviewing the only two Jiu-Jitsu training videos I have, from end-to-end. I am finding hidden gems tucked in amongst the main flow of the two lessons. These are latched onto, and thoroughly thought about. I expected to miss two Master Cycle classes last week, three this week, and one next week, and to also miss out on a total of 4 open-mat times. That's ten hours of training gone. With my videos so far, I've reclaimed about two hours worth, and they are a bit different than I normally drill. They would easily be worth another couple of review hours, cutting my lost training again. Instead of losing ten hours, it will only be six. That's a significant change for the better. If I can return with only a single one of the points I've been finding added to my repertoire, it will be worth even more than that. I also have written notes from other Los Angeles visits that should be worth a going over.
Monday 23 May 2016
Cruise D
Our Cruise May 4-18 2016
Day five started like all the others, with me meeting Bernie around 5am up on the Lido Deck; where the coffee is. A beautiful, blue-sky day; perfect for glacier viewing.
We chatted for a while, and then he toddled off to wander about. Deciding to be productive, I pulled up the videos I made during my private Jiu-Jitsu lessons that I did with Jordan Collins back in 2015 for review. There was tons that I'd totally forgotten about. If I just had a partner, and a place to practice, I could train a bit. Even without actually doing the movements, the mental review is darn useful in-and-of itself.
Breakfast was a bit of a let down. The five of us normally wear matching Disney ear hats to breakfast. It is a silly and fun thing to do. Today, everybody arrived separately at the dining room, and the only person wearing his hat was me.
As we ate, the ship inched its way deeper and deeper into Glacier Bay, and we had spectacular views. I don't think we've ever been here with the air so clear and the sky so blue. Lovely.
After eating we split up, and Helen headed out to find the naturalists and Park Rangers. I stayed in our cabin to relax, and allowed the views of the largest glacier to be delivered to me through our personal, private window view. When I wasn't nodding off, I had the glacier all to myself, sort of.
Back to the dining room for lunch. The previous night's dish that won the prize was the braised brisket, and the Day Five lunch had smoked brisket on the menu. They really spoil their guests. I like that.
Do cruises revolve around food? Perhaps. Usually they post the evening menu, and everybody looks that over even before they've had their lunch.
At this point in the cruise I was a little over my goal of running 8km per day. I was excited about this, as the midpoint of our cruise was to be in Vancouver. Being right downtown, I didn't expect to run at all, and wanted to have enough extra kilometers saved up to cover it.
Another fine supper, and dancing.
I enjoy the production shows, but they are often limited to a introductory show the first night aboard, and two more full-blown extravaganzas during the week. The rest of the time they bring in "headline" entertainers. So far these have included a singer/piano player and a magician/comedian, that I didn't bother to go see. Tonight it's another comedian, and I am bowing to peer pressure and will attend.
Day six; another 5am coffeetime with Bernie. He headed down to his room a bit before things in the buffet really got operating; perhaps about 6:15am. I called up a couple of videos I made back in 2015 down in Torrance, and reviewed the stuff I learned there. Seems I "learned" less than I thought, as a lot of details didn't make it home with me. I am therefore counting the video review time as serious mental JJ training.
At 6:30, the food lines officially opened, and I got my daily fix of papaya/passion fruit juice.
The day was spectacularly gorgeous; massively blue skies once again. I don't know how we get so lucky with Alaskan weather. Things looked good for both a lovely walk-about in the town, and a shore-side run.
Ketchikan is small, but compact in a very foot-tourist friendly way. There is a dandy little downtown right next to the ships, and a cute little historic bunch of buildings constructed out over a wee river, called Creek Street. It used to be where the whorehouses were, but now it is all touristy.
Helen's plan was to walk the downtown with me, and get taken to a raptor center where there are some totems. This is a bit farther up the creek from the tourist zone, but still very walkable. She also wants to use a coupon that we have for an hour of access to the thermal suite on the ship. We have to use it on a port day, and Ketchikan is the last chance to do it. We have to have lunch, too.
Can we cram it all into our stay, which is from about 9am until suppertime? It should work.
Ketchikan is a funny place, that is very proud of the incredible amount of rainfall it receives. They measure it in meters per year. Interestingly, this was our first port-of-call that had any other cruise ships in. We were tied up next to the Norwegian Jewel. Even with two ships, it was an exceedingly quiet day. Four here is much more common.
Helen and I walked through town, and to a nice little park well up the creek, then back down, walked Creek Street, where I bought a couple of tshirts, and then back to the ship. I made sure Helen was on track for the fabric store before I hurried back onboard, put on my running gear, and set off again. I went out 5.5km, turned around, and ran back. Onboard again about 2pm, and grabbed some pasta for lunch.
For me, the entire rest of the day needed to contain only dinner, and a show. Helen is much more ambitious, so there will certainly be more.
Ketchikan being our last port, means it will be followed by a big-kilometer travel day, and then return to Vancouver. There the passengers will be scurried ashore, and a fresh bunch loaded on. One of us is likewise returning home, but the other four are staying for a second run.
Day five started like all the others, with me meeting Bernie around 5am up on the Lido Deck; where the coffee is. A beautiful, blue-sky day; perfect for glacier viewing.
We chatted for a while, and then he toddled off to wander about. Deciding to be productive, I pulled up the videos I made during my private Jiu-Jitsu lessons that I did with Jordan Collins back in 2015 for review. There was tons that I'd totally forgotten about. If I just had a partner, and a place to practice, I could train a bit. Even without actually doing the movements, the mental review is darn useful in-and-of itself.
Breakfast was a bit of a let down. The five of us normally wear matching Disney ear hats to breakfast. It is a silly and fun thing to do. Today, everybody arrived separately at the dining room, and the only person wearing his hat was me.
As we ate, the ship inched its way deeper and deeper into Glacier Bay, and we had spectacular views. I don't think we've ever been here with the air so clear and the sky so blue. Lovely.
After eating we split up, and Helen headed out to find the naturalists and Park Rangers. I stayed in our cabin to relax, and allowed the views of the largest glacier to be delivered to me through our personal, private window view. When I wasn't nodding off, I had the glacier all to myself, sort of.
Back to the dining room for lunch. The previous night's dish that won the prize was the braised brisket, and the Day Five lunch had smoked brisket on the menu. They really spoil their guests. I like that.
Do cruises revolve around food? Perhaps. Usually they post the evening menu, and everybody looks that over even before they've had their lunch.
At this point in the cruise I was a little over my goal of running 8km per day. I was excited about this, as the midpoint of our cruise was to be in Vancouver. Being right downtown, I didn't expect to run at all, and wanted to have enough extra kilometers saved up to cover it.
Another fine supper, and dancing.
I enjoy the production shows, but they are often limited to a introductory show the first night aboard, and two more full-blown extravaganzas during the week. The rest of the time they bring in "headline" entertainers. So far these have included a singer/piano player and a magician/comedian, that I didn't bother to go see. Tonight it's another comedian, and I am bowing to peer pressure and will attend.
Day six; another 5am coffeetime with Bernie. He headed down to his room a bit before things in the buffet really got operating; perhaps about 6:15am. I called up a couple of videos I made back in 2015 down in Torrance, and reviewed the stuff I learned there. Seems I "learned" less than I thought, as a lot of details didn't make it home with me. I am therefore counting the video review time as serious mental JJ training.
At 6:30, the food lines officially opened, and I got my daily fix of papaya/passion fruit juice.
The day was spectacularly gorgeous; massively blue skies once again. I don't know how we get so lucky with Alaskan weather. Things looked good for both a lovely walk-about in the town, and a shore-side run.
Ketchikan is small, but compact in a very foot-tourist friendly way. There is a dandy little downtown right next to the ships, and a cute little historic bunch of buildings constructed out over a wee river, called Creek Street. It used to be where the whorehouses were, but now it is all touristy.
Helen's plan was to walk the downtown with me, and get taken to a raptor center where there are some totems. This is a bit farther up the creek from the tourist zone, but still very walkable. She also wants to use a coupon that we have for an hour of access to the thermal suite on the ship. We have to use it on a port day, and Ketchikan is the last chance to do it. We have to have lunch, too.
Can we cram it all into our stay, which is from about 9am until suppertime? It should work.
Ketchikan is a funny place, that is very proud of the incredible amount of rainfall it receives. They measure it in meters per year. Interestingly, this was our first port-of-call that had any other cruise ships in. We were tied up next to the Norwegian Jewel. Even with two ships, it was an exceedingly quiet day. Four here is much more common.
Helen and I walked through town, and to a nice little park well up the creek, then back down, walked Creek Street, where I bought a couple of tshirts, and then back to the ship. I made sure Helen was on track for the fabric store before I hurried back onboard, put on my running gear, and set off again. I went out 5.5km, turned around, and ran back. Onboard again about 2pm, and grabbed some pasta for lunch.
For me, the entire rest of the day needed to contain only dinner, and a show. Helen is much more ambitious, so there will certainly be more.
Ketchikan being our last port, means it will be followed by a big-kilometer travel day, and then return to Vancouver. There the passengers will be scurried ashore, and a fresh bunch loaded on. One of us is likewise returning home, but the other four are staying for a second run.
Sunday 22 May 2016
Cruise C
Our Cruise May 4-18 2016
Day three, we had finally reached the north end of our experience, and I managed to solve one of my pet peeves for this voyage.
Helen and I have done somewhere around 20 cruises in total, and only one had soft drinks included. I do like my soda. Of course, they always have it available to purchase, but at a price typically in the $2.25US per can price range. I will NOT pay that much for pop. Twice we've been on cruises where you could purchase unlimited soft drinks at a reasonable rate by purchasing a pass for the entire cruise. That means that on about 15% of our ship travels I've been able to get my fix, either free, or for an acceptable monetary outlay. This ship has neither of those two options available.
However, at the breakfast buffet I noticed a very bright beverage nestled in amongst the white, red, and orange glasses of morning juices. It was a mix of guava and passion fruit, quite sweet enough to act as a soda pop substitute. Huzzah. I guzzled a few glasses on the spot, and later returned for a couple more to consume while doing a morning sit about. Of course, picked up a couple of pastries to keep the drinks company.
Day three was a strange mix of on-board and on-shore. We cruised by a place called Tracy Arm, which is a fjord with a glacier, but only for a very short time. It didn't really matter at all, as the weather was so socked in that nothing could be seen.
By 1pm, we were docked in Juneau for our first port experience. On this trip there are more first-time cruisers than we've ever seen before. The vast majority are Australians. They are not only first-time sailors, but also Alaska newbies, and new to North America as well.
Juneau is the Alaskan State Capitol, and a nice-enough small town. Helen was toying with the idea of taking some kind of bus ride to the nearby glacier, but cooled on the idea due to the weather. We always do a downtown stroll about, and l planned a run sometime later. My on-board treadmill run the day before was as boring as hell, and running on real roads became even more attractive than normal.
The weather was the worst we've ever hit at Juneau. There was rain, serious wind, and cold. We visited Helen's three must-see stores, and scurried back to the ship. Ours was the only ship in harbor, which is unheard of. Everything seemed very dead. We were very, very early in the season.
Supper was grand, and I used up some of my weight buffer devouring a lovely prime rib, and I also ate every morsel of the other items on the plate. For dessert, I had a fancy chocolate cake thing, which was ok, and a first-rate fudge sundae. It was so good, in fact, that I indulged with a second.
After dinner, it was time to run. I had no desire to return to the cold, wet town, so it was treadmill time once more. Then we went to the piano bar to be entertained.
Day four was much nicer. The sky was still overcast as we tied up alongside of the Skagway wharf, but the rain was gone. Helen and I had a very early breakfast, as we had to be ashore by 8:05am.
We have been to Skagway many times, but have never done the one excursion that is considered by many to be a must-see. This time, we rode the Whitehorse Railroad. It was built back during the Gold Rush, and is now used exclusively by tourists. It climbs at a grade I didn't think a train could manage, and pulled itself up the narrow gauge track; over precarious trestles, and through improbable tunnels. It was wonderful.
A dark spot was that when unloading, a woman we'd been chatting to earlier had a nasty fall. She went down hard on both knees. The train people helped her up, and would have provided a lift to the ship, but she was embarrassed and insisted she was fine. I walked beside her, ready to lend a hand, and chatted to try and help her settle down. She admitted that she'd be sore the next day.
We were back by lunchtime, and ate in the buffet. Afterwards, Helen headed into town for a bit of a shopping expedition. Remarkably, there is a very good fabric store right in the midst of all the tourist stuff and jewelry dealers. I ran.
Skagway is the first place I ever ran in Alaska, and I've been doing it ever since. This was the coldest, and least inviting day that I have ever ventured to do so. My "usual" route is to head through town, and over the Skagway river following the highway for a bit, and then turning uphill on the road that heads to where the town of Dyea used to be.
I remembered the distances wrong, but it didn't matter. I slipped into the zone where the length of the run becomes largely irrelevant. I just kept going until I reached the lookout over the town. I snapped a couple of shots, used the bathroom, and headed back. Altogether I logged 13.22km. I had been planning to do 8km, or just possibly 10.
Supper was spectacular. Plenty of selections, but they faded away as soon as I saw the entry for braised brisket. Bernie and Helen both had the same reaction. It was wonderful, with a gravy just slightly hinted with wine.
To maintain my girlish figure, I only had two full-blown desserts; something called a Snicker Cake, and a Baked Alaska made with Rum Raisin ice cream. Mustn't over-indulge.
Day three, we had finally reached the north end of our experience, and I managed to solve one of my pet peeves for this voyage.
Helen and I have done somewhere around 20 cruises in total, and only one had soft drinks included. I do like my soda. Of course, they always have it available to purchase, but at a price typically in the $2.25US per can price range. I will NOT pay that much for pop. Twice we've been on cruises where you could purchase unlimited soft drinks at a reasonable rate by purchasing a pass for the entire cruise. That means that on about 15% of our ship travels I've been able to get my fix, either free, or for an acceptable monetary outlay. This ship has neither of those two options available.
However, at the breakfast buffet I noticed a very bright beverage nestled in amongst the white, red, and orange glasses of morning juices. It was a mix of guava and passion fruit, quite sweet enough to act as a soda pop substitute. Huzzah. I guzzled a few glasses on the spot, and later returned for a couple more to consume while doing a morning sit about. Of course, picked up a couple of pastries to keep the drinks company.
Day three was a strange mix of on-board and on-shore. We cruised by a place called Tracy Arm, which is a fjord with a glacier, but only for a very short time. It didn't really matter at all, as the weather was so socked in that nothing could be seen.
By 1pm, we were docked in Juneau for our first port experience. On this trip there are more first-time cruisers than we've ever seen before. The vast majority are Australians. They are not only first-time sailors, but also Alaska newbies, and new to North America as well.
Juneau is the Alaskan State Capitol, and a nice-enough small town. Helen was toying with the idea of taking some kind of bus ride to the nearby glacier, but cooled on the idea due to the weather. We always do a downtown stroll about, and l planned a run sometime later. My on-board treadmill run the day before was as boring as hell, and running on real roads became even more attractive than normal.
The weather was the worst we've ever hit at Juneau. There was rain, serious wind, and cold. We visited Helen's three must-see stores, and scurried back to the ship. Ours was the only ship in harbor, which is unheard of. Everything seemed very dead. We were very, very early in the season.
Supper was grand, and I used up some of my weight buffer devouring a lovely prime rib, and I also ate every morsel of the other items on the plate. For dessert, I had a fancy chocolate cake thing, which was ok, and a first-rate fudge sundae. It was so good, in fact, that I indulged with a second.
After dinner, it was time to run. I had no desire to return to the cold, wet town, so it was treadmill time once more. Then we went to the piano bar to be entertained.
Day four was much nicer. The sky was still overcast as we tied up alongside of the Skagway wharf, but the rain was gone. Helen and I had a very early breakfast, as we had to be ashore by 8:05am.
We have been to Skagway many times, but have never done the one excursion that is considered by many to be a must-see. This time, we rode the Whitehorse Railroad. It was built back during the Gold Rush, and is now used exclusively by tourists. It climbs at a grade I didn't think a train could manage, and pulled itself up the narrow gauge track; over precarious trestles, and through improbable tunnels. It was wonderful.
A dark spot was that when unloading, a woman we'd been chatting to earlier had a nasty fall. She went down hard on both knees. The train people helped her up, and would have provided a lift to the ship, but she was embarrassed and insisted she was fine. I walked beside her, ready to lend a hand, and chatted to try and help her settle down. She admitted that she'd be sore the next day.
We were back by lunchtime, and ate in the buffet. Afterwards, Helen headed into town for a bit of a shopping expedition. Remarkably, there is a very good fabric store right in the midst of all the tourist stuff and jewelry dealers. I ran.
Skagway is the first place I ever ran in Alaska, and I've been doing it ever since. This was the coldest, and least inviting day that I have ever ventured to do so. My "usual" route is to head through town, and over the Skagway river following the highway for a bit, and then turning uphill on the road that heads to where the town of Dyea used to be.
I remembered the distances wrong, but it didn't matter. I slipped into the zone where the length of the run becomes largely irrelevant. I just kept going until I reached the lookout over the town. I snapped a couple of shots, used the bathroom, and headed back. Altogether I logged 13.22km. I had been planning to do 8km, or just possibly 10.
Supper was spectacular. Plenty of selections, but they faded away as soon as I saw the entry for braised brisket. Bernie and Helen both had the same reaction. It was wonderful, with a gravy just slightly hinted with wine.
To maintain my girlish figure, I only had two full-blown desserts; something called a Snicker Cake, and a Baked Alaska made with Rum Raisin ice cream. Mustn't over-indulge.
Saturday 21 May 2016
Cruise B
Our Cruise May 4-18 2016
Cruise day one. Our trip from home to the cruise ship terminal in Vancouver is always a bit of an adventure. We've done it many times, in many ways, and have perfected what works for us.
I drive Helen and our luggage to a bus stop about a mile from home, and then take the car home. I walk briskly back to Helen, and we catch the bus to Sechelt, where we switch to another bus going to the ferry terminal. Unfortunately, our packing kinda got out of control this time, and we had two massive suitcases, each the size of a small sofa, a shoulder bag containing our two-bottle wine allowance, Helen's knapsack-sized purse, and a ukulele. We got lucky on these busses, as both humongous bags fit into the luggage holder.
Transferring to the ferry required hauling everything far enough to make me wish we'd packed considerably lighter. We pretty much filled the ferry elevator.
After the ferry ride, we had to haul it all out of the terminal, and line up behind about 50 other people getting onto the bus into the city.
We made it on, and even got one bag into the luggage rack, but the rest all had to stay with us. Helen had her purse and ukulele, while I got to ride shotgun over one sofa bag, and the satchel of wine. Neither of us got seats.
Surviving this half-hour drive, we unloaded at the corner of Georgia Street and Burrard. That gave us about a kilometer to schlep our baggage clown show to the cruise-ship port. Once we finally got there, the pressure greatly lifted as we turned the two suitcase/sofas over to the luggage handlers to take aboard.
Being down to just Helen's purse, the Uke, and the wine, made me feel like I was weightless. I was positively giddy.
Step one line up and go through security; step two line up and go through US customs; step three line up and get checked in by the cruise line and; step four actually go aboard.
We travel with a group of three friends, but we beat them aboard. It is our tradition to meet at the buffet if we don't do so in all the lining up. Lunch for me included a sushi snack, a small slice of beef with mashed potatoes, a big plate of pasta, and two pastry desserts. For cruising, that's a sensible lunch, although non-cruisers would never recognize it as such.
We wandered about, and unpacked. The ship left the harbour heading north towards Alaska. Supper hit about then.
For me one appetizer (which was actually small), a chilled soup, and a hot chowder, a pork entree, a slice of strudel for dessert. Oh, yeah, and a hot fudge sundae. Piggy? The appetizer was two scallops. The chilled soup was much like a milkshake, but about one cup in size. The hot chowder was a bit bigger. The pork was small, thinly cut, and had a few green beans, and a small amount of mashed potatoes. The strudel slice was pretty big, but the sundae was small. All together, more than a normal meal, but not ridiculously so.
No food after that. We had decks to walk, and a show to enjoy.
It might seem that my cruise was being ruined by an obsession with food, but nothing could be further from the truth. I was noticing my intake, remembering to keep it within a wide set of parameters, and not worrying about it at all. Most of my attention was really given over to enjoying the gorgeous ship, our fun friends, and my gorgeous and considerate wife, Helen.
Day two started with a walking lap of the deck at 5:30am, followed by a climb to deck 8, and coffee with Bernie. Returned to our cabins in time to join the rest for an 8 o'clock breakfast in the dining room. I had salmon and rice, and it was very nice.
We all pretty much went our own ways after that until lunch. I attended a computer workshop, and went for an 8km run on a treadmill, which was dull but exactly as expected and advertised.
Treadmill machines are funny, and lie to their users. On real runs, I average 8km per hour, and count 9km as pretty much my maximum. On the machine, I set it for an uphill incline of 5%, which is a pretty steep climb, and my speed for 8kph. All fine, but as lunchtime approached, I needed to pick up the pace, or to cut my run short. I started bumping up my velocity. Soon, I was over 9kph, and then 10kph. Soon I was beyond 10.5kph. In real life I don't think I could go that fast for any length of time even if being pursued by a grizzly bear. On the machine, going up a steep hill, I was fine. The conclusion had to be that I was clearly neither going up a 5% grade, nor maintaining 10.5kph. Stupid, lying machine. When it told me I'd gone 8km, and my Fitbit concurred, I headed for the shower, to be followed by lunch.
In mid-afternoon, we attended a waltz lesson. Yet another form of exercise, but one where I get to hold my beloved in my arms.
Cruise day one. Our trip from home to the cruise ship terminal in Vancouver is always a bit of an adventure. We've done it many times, in many ways, and have perfected what works for us.
I drive Helen and our luggage to a bus stop about a mile from home, and then take the car home. I walk briskly back to Helen, and we catch the bus to Sechelt, where we switch to another bus going to the ferry terminal. Unfortunately, our packing kinda got out of control this time, and we had two massive suitcases, each the size of a small sofa, a shoulder bag containing our two-bottle wine allowance, Helen's knapsack-sized purse, and a ukulele. We got lucky on these busses, as both humongous bags fit into the luggage holder.
Transferring to the ferry required hauling everything far enough to make me wish we'd packed considerably lighter. We pretty much filled the ferry elevator.
After the ferry ride, we had to haul it all out of the terminal, and line up behind about 50 other people getting onto the bus into the city.
We made it on, and even got one bag into the luggage rack, but the rest all had to stay with us. Helen had her purse and ukulele, while I got to ride shotgun over one sofa bag, and the satchel of wine. Neither of us got seats.
Surviving this half-hour drive, we unloaded at the corner of Georgia Street and Burrard. That gave us about a kilometer to schlep our baggage clown show to the cruise-ship port. Once we finally got there, the pressure greatly lifted as we turned the two suitcase/sofas over to the luggage handlers to take aboard.
Being down to just Helen's purse, the Uke, and the wine, made me feel like I was weightless. I was positively giddy.
Step one line up and go through security; step two line up and go through US customs; step three line up and get checked in by the cruise line and; step four actually go aboard.
We travel with a group of three friends, but we beat them aboard. It is our tradition to meet at the buffet if we don't do so in all the lining up. Lunch for me included a sushi snack, a small slice of beef with mashed potatoes, a big plate of pasta, and two pastry desserts. For cruising, that's a sensible lunch, although non-cruisers would never recognize it as such.
We wandered about, and unpacked. The ship left the harbour heading north towards Alaska. Supper hit about then.
For me one appetizer (which was actually small), a chilled soup, and a hot chowder, a pork entree, a slice of strudel for dessert. Oh, yeah, and a hot fudge sundae. Piggy? The appetizer was two scallops. The chilled soup was much like a milkshake, but about one cup in size. The hot chowder was a bit bigger. The pork was small, thinly cut, and had a few green beans, and a small amount of mashed potatoes. The strudel slice was pretty big, but the sundae was small. All together, more than a normal meal, but not ridiculously so.
No food after that. We had decks to walk, and a show to enjoy.
It might seem that my cruise was being ruined by an obsession with food, but nothing could be further from the truth. I was noticing my intake, remembering to keep it within a wide set of parameters, and not worrying about it at all. Most of my attention was really given over to enjoying the gorgeous ship, our fun friends, and my gorgeous and considerate wife, Helen.
Day two started with a walking lap of the deck at 5:30am, followed by a climb to deck 8, and coffee with Bernie. Returned to our cabins in time to join the rest for an 8 o'clock breakfast in the dining room. I had salmon and rice, and it was very nice.
We all pretty much went our own ways after that until lunch. I attended a computer workshop, and went for an 8km run on a treadmill, which was dull but exactly as expected and advertised.
Treadmill machines are funny, and lie to their users. On real runs, I average 8km per hour, and count 9km as pretty much my maximum. On the machine, I set it for an uphill incline of 5%, which is a pretty steep climb, and my speed for 8kph. All fine, but as lunchtime approached, I needed to pick up the pace, or to cut my run short. I started bumping up my velocity. Soon, I was over 9kph, and then 10kph. Soon I was beyond 10.5kph. In real life I don't think I could go that fast for any length of time even if being pursued by a grizzly bear. On the machine, going up a steep hill, I was fine. The conclusion had to be that I was clearly neither going up a 5% grade, nor maintaining 10.5kph. Stupid, lying machine. When it told me I'd gone 8km, and my Fitbit concurred, I headed for the shower, to be followed by lunch.
In mid-afternoon, we attended a waltz lesson. Yet another form of exercise, but one where I get to hold my beloved in my arms.
Friday 20 May 2016
Cruise A
Our Cruise May 4-18 2016
Here's my problem. When I am home, I am very active, and control my eating pretty well, but when we are away, I move around less, and eat like there's no tomorrow.
This wouldn't be an issue, except we travel a very great deal.
Black Thursday hit while we were down in Arizona this winter. My weight was up by 11 pounds. A complication was going to be that after returning home, we would be going on a two-week cruise to Alaska less than a month later. Cruises are the absolute worst for weight control.
That gave me under a month to try and get down to my ideal weight for the cruise. Otherwise things could get ugly.
I started running significant distances daily ( 8-10km ), and cutting down on the old food ration. Things started going nicely, but then a family emergency called Helen and I to Victoria for a week. Victoria is full of fabulous places to eat. There is no way my weight drop could work as well while there. I kept running, but there was no Jiu-Jitsu, and tried to stay food-sensible. I continued to get smaller, but more slowly.
That meant, in practical terms, I had under 4 weeks (including Victoria) to drop 11 pounds. Actually, my goal was to go down a little further; another 2 pounds as a cruise-food buffer. So 4 weeks for 13 pounds. I wanted to weigh 173 pounds when boarding the ship.
Today, we boarded, and my weight was an even 171 pounds. My weight loss had exceeded expectations, and I was down 15 pounds. My ideal range is from 173-175 pounds. I didn't just have my hoped for 2 pound buffer, but actually had one of 4 pounds.
This isn't meant to be bragging. My "program" is not one of self-denial, but rather of calorie usage. Take for example, yesterday.
I ran 8km, and my fitbit says I burned about 700 calories. Later, I was at Jiu-Jitsu for 2.25 hours, and burned over 1000 calories more.
Every day isn't that intense, but if we just call it a run every day, and JJ three times a week, that works out to 7900 calories lost to exercise every seven days. That's about 6.8 pounds of my 15 pounds of weight loss was from those two activities. The remaining 8.2 pounds came off due to diet or about 2 pounds a week.
To pull that off, my food intake must of been down by an average of 1000 calories a day. Actually, somewhat less as I am pretty active in other ways not mentioned. Let's just guesstimate things at being down by 800 a day.
That's less food reduction per day than the equivalent of 2 fried eggs, with 4 slices of bacon, and two slices of unbuttered toast. Not even any hash browns, for Pete's sake.
Once onboard, it is much, much harder to stay active, and almost impossible to not over-eat.
It is my intention to run every day. This is much harder for me to do than at home. There are three options. The first is to run in the gym on a treadmill. This is one of the most boring activities ever devised by man.
Another option is to use the on-deck running track. This time this won't work. The ship is tiny in cruise-ship terms, and has no track at all.
The best option is to run on shore whenever we have a port day. In our two weeks onboard, we have a total of 6 port days. All are at decent running spots, and we will be tied up there long enough to both do the tourist thing, and to run. This being real running, it will be easy to crank out significant numbers of miles.
The harder problem will be to not over-indulge in the wonderful food onboard. It is infinite in quantity, and wonderful in taste.
Step one will be breakfast. I love breakfast food, but will not be egging or baconing at all (well, maybe once or twice). Something more like a bowl of oatmeal will suffice.
Step two is lunch. They serve supper-sized meals for lunch, or we'll hit the buffet, which is even worse. I will eat a lot more midday onboard than midday at home. My intention is to go ahead and eat, but to limit portion size, and to stop well before bloating has begun.
Step three is supper. The multi-course meals are very weight-dangerous. I'll just have to do the best I can.
Step four is all the eating opportunities squeezed in between the real meals. Not a big problem, as by resisting these I am really just re-directing calories into the yummier, real meals.
Summary; small breakfast, sensible lunch, and not-crazy supper, with no snacks, accompanied by big runs in port, and boring treadmill runs when shipboard.
My hope is that after the cruise, although I will have gained weight, it will not be anything that requires another major stint of dieting. It is not unrealistic to think I can keep this weight gain down to maybe 5 pounds in total. Doing this would have me using up my 4 pound weight-buffer, and a bit more. Losing a couple of pounds after the cruise will seem like nothing at all.
To see how well things all go, I will not be posting this blog until after the cruise is over.
(At the cruise's end my weight was just under 180 pounds)
Here's my problem. When I am home, I am very active, and control my eating pretty well, but when we are away, I move around less, and eat like there's no tomorrow.
This wouldn't be an issue, except we travel a very great deal.
Black Thursday hit while we were down in Arizona this winter. My weight was up by 11 pounds. A complication was going to be that after returning home, we would be going on a two-week cruise to Alaska less than a month later. Cruises are the absolute worst for weight control.
That gave me under a month to try and get down to my ideal weight for the cruise. Otherwise things could get ugly.
I started running significant distances daily ( 8-10km ), and cutting down on the old food ration. Things started going nicely, but then a family emergency called Helen and I to Victoria for a week. Victoria is full of fabulous places to eat. There is no way my weight drop could work as well while there. I kept running, but there was no Jiu-Jitsu, and tried to stay food-sensible. I continued to get smaller, but more slowly.
That meant, in practical terms, I had under 4 weeks (including Victoria) to drop 11 pounds. Actually, my goal was to go down a little further; another 2 pounds as a cruise-food buffer. So 4 weeks for 13 pounds. I wanted to weigh 173 pounds when boarding the ship.
Today, we boarded, and my weight was an even 171 pounds. My weight loss had exceeded expectations, and I was down 15 pounds. My ideal range is from 173-175 pounds. I didn't just have my hoped for 2 pound buffer, but actually had one of 4 pounds.
This isn't meant to be bragging. My "program" is not one of self-denial, but rather of calorie usage. Take for example, yesterday.
I ran 8km, and my fitbit says I burned about 700 calories. Later, I was at Jiu-Jitsu for 2.25 hours, and burned over 1000 calories more.
Every day isn't that intense, but if we just call it a run every day, and JJ three times a week, that works out to 7900 calories lost to exercise every seven days. That's about 6.8 pounds of my 15 pounds of weight loss was from those two activities. The remaining 8.2 pounds came off due to diet or about 2 pounds a week.
To pull that off, my food intake must of been down by an average of 1000 calories a day. Actually, somewhat less as I am pretty active in other ways not mentioned. Let's just guesstimate things at being down by 800 a day.
That's less food reduction per day than the equivalent of 2 fried eggs, with 4 slices of bacon, and two slices of unbuttered toast. Not even any hash browns, for Pete's sake.
Once onboard, it is much, much harder to stay active, and almost impossible to not over-eat.
It is my intention to run every day. This is much harder for me to do than at home. There are three options. The first is to run in the gym on a treadmill. This is one of the most boring activities ever devised by man.
Another option is to use the on-deck running track. This time this won't work. The ship is tiny in cruise-ship terms, and has no track at all.
The best option is to run on shore whenever we have a port day. In our two weeks onboard, we have a total of 6 port days. All are at decent running spots, and we will be tied up there long enough to both do the tourist thing, and to run. This being real running, it will be easy to crank out significant numbers of miles.
The harder problem will be to not over-indulge in the wonderful food onboard. It is infinite in quantity, and wonderful in taste.
Step one will be breakfast. I love breakfast food, but will not be egging or baconing at all (well, maybe once or twice). Something more like a bowl of oatmeal will suffice.
Step two is lunch. They serve supper-sized meals for lunch, or we'll hit the buffet, which is even worse. I will eat a lot more midday onboard than midday at home. My intention is to go ahead and eat, but to limit portion size, and to stop well before bloating has begun.
Step three is supper. The multi-course meals are very weight-dangerous. I'll just have to do the best I can.
Step four is all the eating opportunities squeezed in between the real meals. Not a big problem, as by resisting these I am really just re-directing calories into the yummier, real meals.
Summary; small breakfast, sensible lunch, and not-crazy supper, with no snacks, accompanied by big runs in port, and boring treadmill runs when shipboard.
My hope is that after the cruise, although I will have gained weight, it will not be anything that requires another major stint of dieting. It is not unrealistic to think I can keep this weight gain down to maybe 5 pounds in total. Doing this would have me using up my 4 pound weight-buffer, and a bit more. Losing a couple of pounds after the cruise will seem like nothing at all.
To see how well things all go, I will not be posting this blog until after the cruise is over.
(At the cruise's end my weight was just under 180 pounds)
Thursday 19 May 2016
Weight Ditch
Went onto the cruise ship two weeks ago at 171 lbs, and came off yesterday weighing 179.8
Not a problem, as I had been in training before the ship sailed. My ideal weight range is between 173 and 175.
There is also some kind of rebound effect right after ending a food binge. The next morning the scale already said 177.6, and it had nothing to do with solid waste. Between the 179.8 and 177.6 weigh-ins my body had fluid coming in and out, air moving about, and digestive material entering the system, but none leaving.
As I do not dehydrate myself (love them liquids), the assumption must be that the 2.2 pound difference was due to respiratory CO2 loss.
In any case, I only have a few pounds to get rid of, and should be there in about a week easily.
We then have a nice, long, uninterrupted stint at home. It will be good to keep my mass within my goal 173-175 range. Doing so will help convince my body to put my "set point" there (the weight my body gravitates to).
Right now my body thinks it should weigh one million pounds.
Not a problem, as I had been in training before the ship sailed. My ideal weight range is between 173 and 175.
There is also some kind of rebound effect right after ending a food binge. The next morning the scale already said 177.6, and it had nothing to do with solid waste. Between the 179.8 and 177.6 weigh-ins my body had fluid coming in and out, air moving about, and digestive material entering the system, but none leaving.
As I do not dehydrate myself (love them liquids), the assumption must be that the 2.2 pound difference was due to respiratory CO2 loss.
In any case, I only have a few pounds to get rid of, and should be there in about a week easily.
We then have a nice, long, uninterrupted stint at home. It will be good to keep my mass within my goal 173-175 range. Doing so will help convince my body to put my "set point" there (the weight my body gravitates to).
Right now my body thinks it should weigh one million pounds.
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