💪Books & Biceps 352

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, My 1-Mile Ocean Swim Race, Sandler's alligator tribute and...

Boom! This is Books & Biceps #352!

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BOOKS

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson

Fear and Loathing wasn’t in the stack of books by my nightstand or on any of the bookshelves in our house. It has always been in the “back of my mind” ‘to-read’ pile but I hadn’t gotten around to it. I read Thompson’s The Rum Diary a while back and I really enjoyed it. I also liked his old ESPN columns in the early sports blog days… But I had not planned on reading the famous gonzo journalist’s classic any time soon.

In fact, I had an entirely different book lined up to share this week… and then I was walking out of our public library the other day and happened to glance at their “Used $1 paperback shelf” and right on the edge was a fresh, clean copy of Fear and Loathing. 

Now, I am a firm believer in literary serendipity, meaning, I believe that sometimes the universe tosses a book your way at the right time and you just have to be paying attention to capitalize on it. And if you can capitalize on it for .99 cents, all the better.

So I grabbed the book and read it over two nights and it is one hell of a ride. Unique. Absurd. Brilliant. I know Hunter has a legion of devoted fans and if you’re one of them, you’re thinking, “Yeah, Finkel, we know, dude. He’s a one-of-one writing genius.”

And that’s why I’m recommending this book. It is singularly written like nothing else you’ve read. Or I’ve read. It’s a perfect change of pace from whatever thriller or biography or non-fiction book you’re reading right now. This description of an acid comedown made me laugh out loud:

“By this time the drink was beginning to cut the acid and my hallucinations were down to a tolerable level. The room service waiter had a vaguely reptilian cast to his features, but I was no longer seeing huge pterodactyls lumbering around the corridors in pools of fresh blood.”

“Vaguely reptilian cast to his features” is some inventive writing. And this is from one of the tamer sections early in the book.

There’s a stream-of-consciousness and self-awareness to the writing even in the midst of scenes where the narrator is blackout drunk or high or usually both, but it’s all done in a way that you both feel like you’re along for the ride and can step back and laugh at the lunacy of what’s going on.

“…at that point I figured he was beyond help - lying there in the tub with a head full of acid, and the sharpest knife I’ve ever seen, totally incapable of reason, demanding the White Rabbit.”

This a description of Hunter’s (Raoul Duke’s) attorney at one of his most bonkers moments in the book. And it’s only in the first third of the story.

If you’ve ever thought of reading this classic, or wondered why people loved the book so much, take two nights and read the damn thing. Have no expectations. Don’t try to figure out what’s happening or “get it”. Just read. The cadence and craziness will sink in and then you’ll have fun. Check it out here.

BICEPS

I swam in an Ocean Rescue 1-Mile Race this weekend and got marked with race number 007, so I had to blast the N64 Goldeneye theme song and hit the Bond pose before the event started.

If you’ve been reading this for a while, then you know my best races are sprints: 50 and 100 fly and the 50 and 100 free. I’ll occasionally do a 200 IM or 200 free, but that’s about it. I’m bulky but I’m built for speed in the water and I spend most of my practices in the pool.

But I love swimming in the ocean when I can and I enjoy ocean races occasionally. I used to do the Pier-to-Pier swim from Hermosa Beach to Manhattan Beach every year when I lived in LA and I’ve done the Miami Mile a few times, but this was my first Delray Beach race.

I expected nice, calm, South Florida conditions - and we got the total opposite. Tons of wind. Four and five foot swells (decent for here) and a strong current that made progress on the last half-mile frustrating.

Someone kicked my Timex IronMan coming around the first buoy and managed to nick the ‘stop’ button so I couldn’t time myself, but I think it took me about 15 minutes to do the first half-mile and nearly 35 to get back.

Anyone who’s done an ocean race knows the feeling: you bury your head, dig 50 or 100 strokes, sight and realize you got turned around and are swimming out to sea or into shore or worse, you didn’t go anywhere. Then, as you do some breast stroke to see where you are, you get tugged backwards.

It wasn’t one of those West Coast races where you question if you can finish. I’ve had those and this wasn’t it. But it took almost twice as long as I’d have thought haha. And it was a slog the last half.

Still, I loved being out there, ended up taking third for the over 45 age group and grabbed this awesome shot of the sunrise right before the race:

Also, my daughter came with me and that makes these things super special. She got up at 5AM, drove with me and registered with me and was there cheering me on at the finish line. I love doing these races for a ton of reasons, but to get to make memories with my daughter at the same time is so awesome. Highly recommend!

QUICK FLEXES

My column for Midlife Male this week dealt with a profound life lesson I learned from a 90-year-old at the dentist’s office. Take 90 seconds to read this and you’ll think about it all day:

The alligator from Happy Gilmore died Wednesday and Sandler being Sandler wrote a funny and fitting tribute you should read:

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