The treadmill wasn't so scary

It smelled like dead fish when I walked out of my office building today. And if that wasn't odd enough, the "1812 Overture" was being blared out of loud speakers right down the street.

Add some humidity and I was glad I was heading back indoors to end my recent running drought.

That's right folks. Tonight I stepped on the treadmill to nowhere and logged 2.25 miles. Yes, they were slow miles. And hard miles. But they were miles. Ones that I ran. Even though it was painful at times.

And it was everything I thought it was going to be.

Because I know running's not easy. Especially when I haven't put one foot in front of the other for a run since July 24. That's too many days for me to count at the moment. But I do know it's a lot of them.

And I intend to not let that happen again. Starting tonight, I'm getting back on the running track. Because I kind of miss it. Well, I miss it when it's not so hard. But it can only get easier if I keep doing it.

Seven years ago today

Seven years ago today a pair of jets crashed into the World Trade Center, changing our lives - and America - forever.

It's hard to believe it happened seven years ago and the memories are still so fresh in my mind. And try as I might, I can't say it any better than I did last year.

Our lives have regained some sense of normalcy, but the events of that day have never escaped my mind. And even though the footage of those planes hitting the towers was played over and over in the days and weeks following the attack and on the anniversaries, it still doesn't seem real and I still shudder when I see it.

And today, the seventh anniversary of that horrific attack, I still grieve. And I remember the 2,974 victims that were killed: 2,750 connected to the World Trade Center, 40 in a Pennsylvania field and 184 at the Pentagon. Those numbers do not include the 19 hijackers.

I will never forget you.

Running would have made it more painful

It's been almost two months since I last ran.

Two months. That's a long time. So long that I'm basically going to be starting over again. Struggling through a mile or two. It'll be hard. And it will probably suck. And be frustrating.

But I was ready to do it.

I was going to start running again yesterday. Granted, I was going to opt for the inside, treadmill to nowhere option, but I was going to run. As painful as it was going to be.

When the pain starts before you even get out of bed in the morning? Not so cool. And it makes running a bit difficult.

That's what I was dealing with though.

See, I was learning how to dragon boat on Saturday. There's a dragon boat festival in a little over a week here in the City on the Water and I'm part of the team from my work. So Saturday I had to go learn how to be a dragon boater.

It was hard. A lot of rowing. And you get wet. And you're in a gigantic canoe-like boat. With 21 other people. Including a drummer. But it was fun. And I was stiff and sore on Sunday morning. I expected that though.

What I wasn't expecting was not being able to sleep Sunday night because my back hurt so bad. Just in one spot, on the left side, above my hip area. It hurt to to lay on my back. I tried sleeping on my side. That hurt. And sleeping on my stomach? That hurt too.

I barely slept and was almost in tears when I called my Mom at 6:20 in the morning. On her advice, I called my doctor's office and talked to a nurse, who asked me all kinds of questions. She ended up telling me it sounded liked I tweaked a back muscle while I was dragon boating, but that it would get better.

So lots of Tylenol, ice and BioFreeze filled the next two days. And I decided against trying to run, thinking it would probably make it hurt more. But it worked. Slowly the pain went away. And last night I could even sleep! And today? Nothing. No pain.

Even though it didn't hurt, I decided against trying to run today. Thought I'd give it another day or two. Heck, maybe I'll even wait until next week. After all. What's another few days when it's already been almost two months?

At least these criminals can win. So far.

I've got a good bunch of criminals under my wing. Well, at least a bunch of criminals who know how to put points on the board and win a game.

Yes folks, Crime & Grime is back for another Fantasy Football season. And I love it.

Unlike last season when my crooks went weeks before winning a game, this season's version is off to a good start, grabbing a victory this week. Granted, my opponent made some poor roster choices, but still. My win. And the Criminals are 1-0.

Like last year, I wasn't around on draft day, so I let the computer do my picking. So who's featured on Crime & Grime this season?

Jon Kitna, Marc Bulger and Vince Young at QB
Edgerrin James, Clinton Portis, Larry Johnson, Darren McFadden and Selvin Young at running back
Plaxico Burress, Javon Walker, Laveranues Coles and Bernard Berrian at wide receiver
Vernon Davis at tight end
Phil Dawson's handling kicking duties for the criminals
And Seattle's defense is full of crooks.

We're only a week into the season and I've already had to do some rearranging. The Chicago defense I originally had? Gone and replaced with Seattle. And Vince Young's on his way off the team already. I've got too many quarterbacks, he's hurt, probably hobbling around on crutches and I need to find another tight end. If it goes through, by this time tomorrow Young's gone and Dante Rosario will be able to call himself a criminal.

He survived

Good news. Dad's tonsil-less and he lived to talk about it.

Granted, he kind of looks like a Mack truck drove over him. And he can't really talk at the moment since it kind of hurts. But he made it through.

The surgery took a whole 30 minutes this morning and Dad was back at home and sleeping in the recliner by the time I even left work at noon. I still went and spent the afternoon with Mom though. And part of my duties? Babysitting Dad while she went to go get his pain medicine.

Now he just gets to lay low for the next week or so. Sleep. Lounge in the recliner. Keep himself doped up on some strong liquid Vicodin. And of course get used to having no tonsils.

I'm not the one they'll be slicing open today

I have to go to the hospital.

And for the first time, I'm not going for me. This time? It's for my Dad.

He's having surgery tomorrow. It's supposedly nothing too serious. He's having his tonsils out. Yes. You read that right. My 57-year-old father is having his tonsils out. A procedure that a lot of little kids have done.

Apparently my Dad's tonsils have been bothering him for a couple of months. Not that he told anyone about it. That is until he went to the doctor about a month ago, his first visit to the doctor in almost a decade by the way. My Dad's not a big fan of doctors, can you tell? Thankfully he's pretty healthy.

Anyway, his doctor sent him to a specialist, ironically the same ear, nose and throat doctor that sliced my neck open in May 2007. The specialist's verdict? His tonsils were so inflamed and infected that he was pretty sure they'd never go back to normal. So out they come.

At first Dad wasn't too worried. After all, my nephew just had his out this spring and "he bounced right back," Dad said. Yes. But my nephew's 3. Dad's 57. There's a bit of an age difference there and I'm guessing a there's going to be a bit of a difference in recovery time.

The past week or so, as Dad's heard all these horror stories about how long it takes an adult to recover after having their tonsils out, I've seen him get a bit more nervous. And it's rubbed off on me.

I trust his doctor (after all, he sliced my neck open and I lived to tell about it). I know he's going to be at a good facility and the surgery really is pretty routine. But still. He's my Dad. I worry.

So tomorrow I'm working a half-day. I'll be sitting in a courtroom in the morning, while Dad's lying on an operating table and my brother's keeping my Mom company in the waiting room. Then I'll head north to be with my family the rest of the day.

Maybe cable isn't so evil.

I seriously need to think about forking over the money and getting my cable back.

Consider the following:

I could be watching Andy Roddick take on Fernando Gonzalez in a U.S. Open fourth round match. Roddick's amazing. His match Friday night? When he came back from almost two sets down to win it in four sets? Incredible. And I don't think I even need to argue about the eye candy factor.

But I don't have cable. And the tennis match? It's on the USA Network. Which means, I don't get it.

So what have I been kind of sort of watching for the hour and a half? 90210.

Needless to say, I'd rather be watching Andy.

It's a short recap this month

I'm not sure I can even call this a reading recap. Doesn't a recap require more than one thing? It's a bit hard to do a recap when you're just going over one thing.

But that's all I've got.

During the month of August? I read one book. Uno. Singular. A book. That's it. Hey, I was busy. There were Olympics to watch. Records to see fall. Gold medals to be won. I didn't have time to read.

Except for that one book. A total of 331 pages. But it still counts towards my yearly total. I've now read 29 books and 9,388 pages.

So what'd I read?

Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen. I recommend it. Seriously. It's about elephants. And the circus. How could you not enjoy it? Go ahead, read it. I promise, you'll like it.

Even if it is the only book you read in a month.