Month: December 2025

Dec 16 2025 2025-12-16 2025-12-16 by Ross

Blame, But Make It Progress…

I hate to admit this, but an Instagram reel made me think.

Not a book. Not a sermon. Not years of wisdom distilled by a philosopher who lived in a cave. A reel. White text on a black background. Probably set to some mellow piano music.

The message went something like this:
An ignorant person blames others. A person who is growing blames himself. A wise person doesn’t blame anyone.

And annoyingly… it hit.

For most of my adult life, I’ve skipped right past blaming other people. Traffic, coworkers, the system, my upbringing — none of that really sticks for me. When something goes sideways, my reflex is to look inward.

What did I do wrong?
What should I have done differently?
Why didn’t I see this coming?

That feels mature. Responsible. Enlightened, even.

Except… sometimes it’s just self-flagellation with better branding.

The reel made me realize that while blaming myself is better than blaming everyone else, it’s still blame. It still comes with a quiet background soundtrack of guilt, second-guessing, and replaying conversations in my head like I’m studying game film after a bad loss.

The idea of not blaming anyone — including myself — feels like a whole different level. One I’m not fully at yet, but one I like the sound of.

Not blaming anyone doesn’t mean shrugging and saying, “Oh well, nothing matters.” It doesn’t mean not taking responsibility or refusing to change. It just means I can look at something and say, “That didn’t go the way I wanted,” without immediately turning it into a character indictment.

No villain. No idiot. No internal scolding.

Just… information.

Around the same time, I saw another post that stuck with me:
Everything in life happens for me, not to me.

I know. That sentence alone probably made some people roll their eyes so hard they pulled a muscle. It sounds like something printed on a mug next to a candle that smells like eucalyptus and optimism.

But still — I liked it.

Not because I think every bad thing is secretly a gift wrapped in misery, but because it reframes the question. Instead of “Why is this happening to me?” it becomes “What am I supposed to do with this?”

That’s a subtle shift, but it matters.

This all ties into a mantra I’ve been working on most of this year: swapping “I have to” with “I get to.”

I don’t have to work out. I get to run today.
I don’t have to run errands. I get to hang out with my wife while we do them.
I don’t have to deal with responsibilities. I get to — because having them means I’m still very much in the game.

Some days this works better than others. Some days my inner voice still wakes up grumpy and skeptical, arms crossed, muttering, “Let’s not get carried away here.”

I don’t think I’ll ever be Mr. Upbeat. That’s not my brand. I’m not going to start greeting life with jazz hands and unsolicited positivity.

But I can aim to not be Daddy Downer.

I can notice when I’m blaming myself for things that are just… part of being human. I can stop acting like every misstep needs a lesson plan and a penalty box. I can keep working to change what needs changing without beating myself up for not having already changed it.

So yes, an Instagram reel made me think.
I’m not thrilled about it.
But if wisdom shows up where it shows up, I guess I’ll take it — without blaming anyone.

Dec 14 2025 2025-12-14 2026-01-04 by Ross

This Week in Training – Week 12: A Planned Step Back

Posted in Cycling, Running, Swimming, Training, Triathlon

IMWI 2026: The Long Crawl to the Base Phase
(Not base. Not even pre-base. More like “setting the maintenance floor.” It’s a process.)

I stepped back a wee bit this week, and that was mostly planned. I’m modifying what will eventually become my first actual base week. It’s still way too early to start base, but I want that starting point to reflect my real maintenance level — something I can actually hold while working, living, and not burning out.

On paper, the plan called for eight workouts. I made five. Not ideal, but also not catastrophic. I’m still building up, and I still have a job. Next week I should be able to hit at least five again, maybe all eight. After that, I’m off work for two weeks, which should make things much easier.

Swim 🏊

Workouts: 1
Total Distance: 2,225 yards
Total Time: 45 minutes
Notes: This is where I missed a workout, and I felt it. I just couldn’t get to the pool after work on Friday. Today wasn’t easy either – the windchill was negative – but I got up and got it done. Felt good once I was in, and kind of wished I hadn’t skipped the earlier one.

Bike 🚴

Workouts: 2
Total Distance: 27.32 miles
Total Time: 1 hour 30 minutes
Notes: Most of this was a one-hour Power Zone Peloton ride. The other was a more leisurely 30-minute ride as part of a brick – first brick workout in probably a decade, which feels both exciting and vaguely irresponsible.

Run 🏃

Workouts: 3 (including a run off the bike)
Total Distance: 9.13 miles
Total Time: 1 hour 32 minutes
Notes: Slightly shorter than the ~10 miles I’ve been running lately, and that’s fine. It’s also why I don’t mind missing one of the scheduled runs – the overall load is still there.

Strength/Other 💪

Workouts: None
Notes: Still theoretical at this point.

Relative Effort 📈

Total Weekly Effort: 478
Notes: Down from recent weeks. One more swim probably would’ve pushed it close to two of my last three weeks. All three missed workouts would’ve blown past that – and possibly into overuse or injury territory. So this worked out.

Reflections ✍️

I missed one run, one bike, and one swim. Sigh. But there’s room for growth, and that’s the point right now. This felt like a reasonable, controlled step back – not a derailment. The goal is durability, not hero weeks.

Goals for Next Week 🎯

Hit at least five workouts, ideally all eight.
Get both swims in.
Keep brick work in the mix.
Build consistency without forcing it.

All told, this was fine. Not perfect, but solid. The floor is getting higher, and that’s what matters.

Dec 13 2025 2025-12-13 2025-12-13 by Ross

First Batch…

Posted in Beer

First Pour: Brewing (and Drinking) My First Pinter Beer

I ordered a Pinter a few weeks ago because, like many people of weak will and strong curiosity, I am a sucker for Instagram ads.

The deal was the classic kind of “free.” Free Pinter… so long as I commit to what feels like tens of thousands of dollars in beer kits. In reality it’s more like six kits over the next year, which seems reasonable when you phrase it like that and stop thinking too hard about it.

Winter calls me to drink dark beer, so I started with the Dark Matter kit. It’s described as a classic stout: “A dark, sweet, full-bodied and slightly roasty ale. Roasted barley and malt aromas, and a hint of chocolate.” I was in.

Brewing: Shockingly Easy

The process could not have been simpler.
Put water in the Pinter.
Dump the kit contents.
Wait.

For this beer, it was five days of brewing, then another seven days in the fridge to condition. That’s it. No boiling. No sanitizing every object in the house. No panic that I’ve ruined everything by looking at it wrong.

Today was tap day.

First Pour (and Second… and Third)

The first glass was 100% foam. A proud, towering monument to carbonation. It took a few pours to get mostly beer, and I quickly learned not to open the tap all the way like I’m pouring a Guinness in a pub. Reddit tells me it improves after a day or two, so we’ll see.

Once the foam settled down, the beer itself was… fine. Solid. Definitely stout-like. A little sweet, a little roasty. Not bad at all. The main issue right now is that it’s heavily carbonated, which feels slightly at odds with what I want from a stout. Again, I’m hopeful that it improves with time.

The “Too Much Beer” Problem

I wish my block had garage beers, because this would be a great way to share it and clear it out. Unfortunately, bottling isn’t really recommended, and I’m not bringing a keg to work. Otherwise, I’d happily fill a growler and pass it around to neighbors.

I like it. I’ll drink it. I just don’t need this much beer this often.

I think it makes about 16 pints, at 5% ABV. I could have more than one, and damn if a tapped keg in my fridge doesn’t make that easier, but I don’t really need it. That said, an 8-ounce glass with dinner feels just about perfect.

Where this thing will really shine is hosting: a BBQ, a party, maybe even hauling the Pinter to someone’s house on New Year’s. That feels like its natural habitat.

Verdict (So Far)

My next batch arrived today—three kits waiting in the wings. Bonus: the shipment came with two free glasses, which immediately made the whole thing feel more legitimate.

So far, the Pinter is easy and fun. Is it the greatest beer in the world? No. But it’s mine, I made it with almost no effort, and it came out drinkable on the first try. That counts for something.

Next up: a 9% ABV Imperial Stout, which happens to be my favorite style (though Evil Twin’s Imperial Biscotti Break still reigns supreme).

It’s great to be alive… even if the carbonation seems a bit high. 🍺

Tags:beer pinter

Dec 12 2025 2025-12-12 2025-12-12 by Ross

Something Good Every Day: This Evening…

Posted in Something Good

If I’m being honest, today’s “something good” is not a big thing or an impressive thing. It’s this evening. Just… this.

My wife built a proper fire in the living room fireplace — the kind that crackles reassuringly and makes you feel like you’ve accomplished something just by sitting near it. She’s practicing the piano, and since she’s actually excellent, it’s pleasant rather than the “learning phase” where you wonder if your homeowners’ insurance covers emotional damage.

I’m having a martini. Pizza is on the way. Late,r we’ll watch the Blackhawks game and/or the new season of a Norwegian Christmas show that dropped today, because nothing says holiday cheer like Scandinavians and existential winter lighting.

The pets are nearby, which is their way of confirming that we are still their primary source of heat and food. The kids are all out in the world, on their own, and doing well — which is the parental equivalent of checking the weather radar and seeing no storms headed your way.

This will be the last Friday night like this for a little while, but that’s a good thing. Because next week, at this time, the two kids living in Boston will be home for a month. I’ll be off work for two weeks, as will the younger one. We’ll head to central Ohio for Christmas, play family games, watch movies, and sit around doing nothing in particular — which, at this stage of life, is a wildly underrated activity.

I was lucky enough to grow up in a close family that actually enjoyed spending time together. I didn’t realize how rare that was until later. In law school, I dated a woman who had a similarly close family and a small Chicago house. I remember loving how cozy it felt — crowded, warm, loud, and safe all at once.

Tonight, I feel that in my own house. And next week, it’ll be even better, when the cozy house gets louder and messier and filled with everyone again.

I’ve made peace with a lot of things this week. Some old worries have quieted down. Some long-running mental arguments have finally adjourned without issuing an opinion. I’m doing well.

I don’t take this for granted — not for a second. I’m a lucky and blessed man. I’m also at peace* (finally living up to the blog’s title)

It’s great to be alive.

*which I 100% just jinxed.

Dec 12 2025 2025-12-12 2025-12-12 by Ross

Risking Everything….

Posted in Old Man Yelling at the Sky

I continue to be amazed at what some people are willing to risk.

Take the recently fired University of Michigan coach who lost his job over an inappropriate relationship with a staffer in his department. I don’t know him, I don’t know his marriage, and I don’t know what kind of pressure cooker his life was at the time.

Let me be clear up front: I’m not excusing the affair. I think it’s awful. Full stop. But affairs do happen. People make selfish, destructive decisions every day. What truly astonishes me isn’t just that he cheated—it’s that he was willing to risk his marriage, his job, his reputation, and everything he’d built on an affair, and then compound that risk by doing it with someone who worked for him.

This wasn’t a momentary lapse or a drunken bad decision on a work trip. This was reportedly a two-year relationship with someone who was an underling. In his department. At his employer. The same employer that paid him something like $5 million a year and entrusted him with one of the most prestigious jobs in college sports.

That’s not just risking your marriage. That’s risking everything.

If he’d had an affair with a stranger—a Hooter’s waitress, someone he met at a bar, someone entirely outside his workplace—this likely would have remained a personal disaster rather than a professional one. The school might have issued a stiff statement and moved on. Messy? Yes. Fireable? Probably not.

But once you cross into a relationship with an underling, the institution has no real choice. Power imbalance. Workplace liability. Sexual harassment concerns. HR alarms blaring like air-raid sirens. At that point, the university doesn’t merely want to fire you—it has to.

And then there’s the detail that really makes you shake your head: after the relationship ended, she reportedly received a significant raise. Maybe there’s an innocent explanation. Maybe she earned it. Maybe the timing is just unfortunate.

But optics matter. And this looks terrible. It looks like hush money. It looks like an attempt to buy silence. And in situations like this, appearances alone can be career-ending.

So let’s tally it up:

A seven-figure salary
A top-tier coaching job
Years of reputation-building
A career that may not recover for a long time, if ever

All gambled away for something that didn’t even need to involve the workplace.

That’s the part I can’t get past. Not the affair itself, but the breathtaking willingness to light a match next to everything you’ve built. It’s not just poor judgment—it’s professional self-immolation.

I don’t feel smug about it. I don’t feel superior. Mostly, I feel baffled. How does someone smart enough to reach that level of success fail to see the most obvious red line imaginable?

Some risks are bad bets.
Some risks are reckless.
And some risks make you wonder if the person ever stopped to ask, “What happens if this blows up?”

Because this one did. Completely.

And for what?

Shaking my head.

Dec 11 2025 2025-12-11 2025-12-11 by Ross

Life Is Better When You Don’t Read the Comments…

Posted in Old Man Yelling at the Sky

I need to tattoo this somewhere on my body. Maybe across my forearm like a reminder from a dystopian YA novel: DON’T READ THE COMMENTS.

Because every time—every time—I read something online and think, “Wow, that was thoughtful,” I make the fatal mistake of scrolling down. And without fail, I find myself staring into the digital equivalent of a septic tank left open during a heatwave.

There’s one legal blog I genuinely enjoy. Smart writing. Interesting cases. Actual insight. And yet, like a raccoon pawing through a dumpster, I inevitably wander into the comment section hoping—truly hoping—to witness intelligent discussion.

Instead, the very first comment is always some version of:
“Well, what do you expect from an idiot like OP?”

Fantastic. The opening serve is ad hominem at 110 mph. No analysis, no engagement, just immediate character assassination. Not even creative character assassination. Just the drive-thru value menu variety.

Then come the whatabouters, scurrying in right on schedule.

“Sure, this case is about municipal regulations, BUT WHAT ABOUT THAT THING THAT HAPPENED IN 1992 IN ALBUQUERQUE???”

Followed by the Trump Injectors, who have a magical ability to connect absolutely anything to the former president. The post could be about contract interpretation, or medieval property law, or a recipe for lemon bars, and someone will still show up like:

“Well, in the age of Trump…”

No. No, sir. We are not discussing the age of anything. We are discussing—checks notes—lemon bars.

And it’s not just legal blogs. Oh no. Wander into any comment section, anywhere, on any topic, and the pattern is identical. You could be reading a harmless nostalgia piece about the 80s sitcom ALF. Just people reminiscing about a wisecracking alien puppet who wanted to eat cats.

And still someone finds a way to post:

“Sure, ALF was a good show, but in the age of Trump you’d be arrested for making it now.”

What? How? Who is arresting whom, for what? Why is Trump lurking behind every pop-culture corner like a jump-scare in a haunted house?

Comment sections are almost always cesspools. And the worst part is: even the good ones rot. Every decent corner of the internet eventually becomes a swamp. It starts out fine—maybe a few polite disagreements, a reference or two to actual facts—and then one day you look down and realize you’re knee-deep in toxicity with a stranger named “ConstitutionalPatriot99” screaming at “WokeSnowflake420” about something entirely unrelated to the original post.

And I always tell myself: Don’t scroll down. Don’t do it. Just enjoy the article and walk away like a normal human being.

But do I listen?

Of course not.
I scroll.
I read.
I regret.
Then I vow never to do it again.

Until the very next day, when I once again convince myself that this time the comment section will be different. This time it will be full of reasoned arguments and thoughtful replies and maybe even a citation to an actual case.

But no. It’s the same hellscape, just wearing a different avatar.

One day I’ll learn.
Or maybe I’ll just get that tattoo.

Life is better when you don’t read the comments.

Dec 10 2025 2025-12-10 2025-12-10 by Ross

How Hard Is It? (A Teacher’s Rant Driving Him to Retirement)

Posted in Work

Every once in a while I look around my workplace — a public school in Chicago — and ask myself a question that has become almost a mantra:

How hard is it?

Not in the philosophical sense.
Not in the “teens are complicated” sense.
I mean… literally… how hard is it to do the absolute simplest things?

Because lately, the gap between “this should be easy” and “apparently this is impossible” feels wider than the Grand Canyon.

1. The Master Calendar That Does Not Exist

Let’s start with the calendar — or rather, the lack of one.

My school does not have a shared, school-wide master calendar. That means I often have no idea when field trips are happening, when testing is scheduled, or when some random event is going to hijack half my class.

Imagine trying to run a class with structure and planning while operating in an administrative environment that seems allergic to… well… structure and planning.

And here’s the part that drives me nuts:

A shared calendar takes ten minutes to set up.
Google Calendar → Create → Share with staff → Done.

How hard is it?

Apparently very.

2. “What Can I Do to Raise My Grade?” (Asked With One Week Left)

Another classic:
Students approaching me a week before the end of the semester, asking what they can do to raise their grade.

Not in week two.
Not in week five.
Not even in week ten.

Week seventeen.

And the answer — the simple, painfully obvious answer — is always the same:

Do the work during the semester.

It’s astonishing how foreign that concept feels to many of them. We’ve created a school culture where deadlines are flexible, missing work can be made up months later, and every consequence can be negotiated.

So kids have learned that nothing actually counts until it’s too late.

But still… how hard is it to keep up with assignments as they come?

Harder than I thought, apparently.

3. Being Where You’re Supposed to Be

You’d think this one would be simple:

Be in your class, not your girlfriend’s class.
Be in Civics during Civics, not wandering into the gym.
Go where you’re scheduled to go.

And yet, every day I have students drifting in from hallways, from other rooms, from places they absolutely shouldn’t be — usually with an expression that says, What? Why is this a problem?

It’s not that the rule is complicated.
It’s that enforcement is inconsistent, consequences are rare, and many kids have learned that rules are more like suggestions.

So again:
How hard is it?

Too hard, it seems.

4. Why This Feels Like a One-Way Ticket to Retirement

The truth is, none of this would bother me if it were the result of complicated, unsolvable problems.

But these aren’t complicated.
These are the easy problems.
The low-hanging fruit.
The quick fixes.
The “we could have solved this in 2009” issues.

What wears me down — and what makes retirement look more attractive every day — is living in a system where:

the simple things don’t get done
the obvious things aren’t enforced
the preventable problems repeat endlessly
and the people who notice sound like the unreasonable ones

I’m not asking for perfection.
I’m not asking for reinventing the wheel.

I just want a calendar.
Students who do their work.
Kids who go to the class they’re assigned to.

How hard is it?

Hard enough, apparently, that I’m starting to think the answer might be:
Too hard for me to keep doing this forever.

Dec 07 2025 2025-12-07 2026-01-04 by Ross

This Week in Training – Week 11: Back on Track (Mostly)…

Posted in Cycling, Running, Swimming, Triathlon

IMWI 2026: The Long Crawl to the Base Phase
(Recovering from turkey, travel, and general chaos — one workout at a time.)

Solid week, even if I missed two workouts. The important thing is I got back to it after the Thanksgiving dip. I’m starting to feel that rhythm again — the familiar soreness, the satisfaction of checking sessions off, and the creeping sense that I might actually be getting fitter.