Brain Dump

Feeling hyper at the moment. Things are moving through my head at a million miles an hour. I’m going to exorcise some of it here so I can get some work done.

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Part of my jaw still hurts from last week’s wisdom tooth extraction. More accurately, some of my teeth still hurt. So far I’m told this is normal and to stay on the ibuprofen regimen. I half wonder if these teeth are adjusting themselves now that the sideways bastard in the back has been ripped out.

Also, the insides of my cheeks look like I tried to eat a paper shredder. I suspect the reason I never got to see the dentist the day of surgery is he called in sick, and they brought in a substitute.

Edward Scissorhands


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Looks like I’m running the Warrior Dash this year. I’ve been telling myself I should run a 5K sometime, so hey, why not run one with rope bridges, rappelling, fire, barbed wire, and mud pits? I must be insane.

Some of my karate classmates have run it in previous years, and now I have coworkers who may do it, too. We’re going to have a planning meeting Monday, narrow down a time slot, and then I’ll sign up and make it official.

I started running again last weekend. Tonight, I ran after weight lifting. My cardio is back in the shitter after what little running I did last fall, but hopefully not for long.

And all of it—the running and the weight lifting—is to improve my karate. I don’t want to look like this guy in my gi:


I will also need the cardio for my black belt test when it comes. It’s an all-day and, on some occasions, all-night affair at my dojo. You can’t cram for fitness.

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Hell, I just want to be healthier in general. Cut a few pounds, look better, feel better. I know too many people with health problems who accept it as part of life. Cholesterol’s high? Eh, they have a pill for that.

I hate that little pill. It’s a crutch. I’m better than that. I may not be able to fight heredity, but I can minimize the damage.

Now I enjoy lifting weights almost as much as I enjoy karate. I’m getting addicted to the pump and the burn. Unlike running.

Fuck running.

Sometimes running feels like my mortal enemy. I do it anyway. Every time RunKeeper tells me I set a distance record, it’s like I just kicked running in the balls.

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Tonight I lifted, stretched, and then went for a run. Could have been trouble because the Wife doesn’t know CPR.

It got me up to level 14 on Fitocracy. Anyone wants to connect on Fitocracy (or RunKeeper, for that matter) is welcome. Geeking out on those sites by tracking everything helps keep me motivated.

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Brazilian Jiu-jitsu athletes are the latest to cross over into music.

The first song I learned of in Jiu-Jitsu Magazine is “Jiu Jitsu” by Eddie Bravo and his band Smoke Serpent. I can take or leave the rap, but I dig the guitar track. Good song overall. I bought it and my kids will dig it, too. Has a Linkin Park vibe, if that’s your thing.

The other song… ugh. Let’s just say Ralek Gracie should stick to jiu-jitsu. Extra negative points for the lyric about broccoli.

Incidentally, Jiu-Jitsu Magazine is pretty good. I only know a little judo, but I still appreciate the articles on nutrition, workouts, and warm-ups, and there are some good technical hints I’ve been able to use. I’m stockpiling the breakdowns of specific techniques for when I start hitting judo class on a regular basis. I just wish they’d hire a copy editor who knows what paragraph breaks are.

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The outline for The Pack Book 3 is coming together. Book 2, Lie with the Dead is still with my editor.

Book 1, Winter Kill, is cheap on Kindle and Nook. Or you can get a dead tree edition. Make with the clicky. You’ll dig it. I promise.

TPWK Limited Edition Cover

Horror or crime? Flip a coin.

More work coming soon. Things are in motion, but nothing to announce just yet.

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That should about do it.

I’m going to go be productive now.

About Mike Oliveri

Mike Oliveri is a writer, martial artist, cigar aficionado, motorcyclist, and family man, but not necessarily in that order. He is currently hard at work on the werewolf noir series The Pack for Evileye Books.

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