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Saturday, April 14, 2018

Nose-Breathing: Fills the Lungs Far Deeper, and 'Vaporizes' More Body Fat Than Does Mouth-Breathing

After an episode of Mr. Mercedes last evening, I tuned in a a movie for my inebriated younger brother Mark and I to watch, since he had been unconscious through approximately the first half of the T.V. show.

The movie did its intended work of keeping us ─ and Mark in particular ─ involved: 47 Meters Down

Forget the naysayers who pick movies like this apart ─ who watches movies expecting absolute reality? No one should be! We watch for some escapism.

I notice that the actress portraying the older (brunette) sister seemed very familiar to me ─ I was quite sure that she had a steady role in some recent T.V. series that I could just not recall to mind.

Even the younger (blonde) sister sometimes seemed familiar. 

Well, I was right on both counts ─ thanks to that Wikipedia article on the movie.

The brunette actress is Mandy Moore ─ and she has a starring role in the current T.V. series This Is Us. She portrays the beautiful young mother ─ and her older counterpart a generation later ─ of the three central characters.

I am anxious to bring this up to Mark when next I see him sober.

The blonde actress is Claire Holt ─ and she portrayed Rebekah, the beautiful English-accented Mikaelson sister especially close to her murderous brother Klaus (Niklaus), and former love-interest for Black vampire character Marcel Gerard, in the T.V. series The Originals

That I could not place either actress throughout the movie is a testament to their skill at their craft, presenting themselves as characters so very unique that my recognition of their T.V. roles was utterly deflected.

I had to take my leave of Mark just after midnight, letting him know that I had no further interest in sitting up. We had just finished watching an episode of Modern Family.

I believe that it was 12:24 a.m. by the time I was to bed. 

I had a fairly fractured night of sleep, and I think that I may have checked the time around 3:30 a.m., but that was far too early to be getting up. When next I checked, it was shortly after 5:00 a.m., and so I decided then that I might as well get a start on my morning.

I put in 1½ mornings' worth of supplied content to the post I am compiling at Thai-Iceland, one of my six hosted websites. By then, Mark was just about ready to emerge from his bedroom, for he had finished using his ensuite shower.

It must have only been around mid-morning, but I was ready for a nap, and so back to bed I went.

When I roused from my new sleep and looked at the clock-radio, the red-lighted time display was blinking ─ the power had apparently gone off at some point, and then returned.

I was hoping to be able to get in an early exercise session out in the backyard tool shed after Mark sought his own nap, but when I emerged from my bedroom, he was already shut up into his own bedroom ─ and I was far too dopey for the sort of activity those 12 or so minutes of activity would require.

I would need my day's second hot beverage. 

However, before I had even boiled the water, Mark came downstairs ─ clearly, he could not have had much of a nap, and now my exercise session was going to be postponed.

And then I discovered that even though we had power, we had no Internet service. Without the Internet, our Android TV Box that we use to keep abreast of our T.V. shows was useless.

Mark estimated that the power had been off for about 1½ hours, so it must have died just after I went back to bed.

At any rate, he said that he had some shopping he wanted to do, and so he left ahead of noon, saying he would be back in awhile.

This afforded me my chance to have that exercise session. It just involves four different exercises, but I do a few sets of each of them, and I lead off with pull-ups ─ four sets.

Happily, I was able to perform two repetitions more in the first set than is my recent norm.

The day was fairly cloudy, but reasonably mild, and there were some sunny breaks.

It was good that I had that exercise, for when I finished and had fixed up and eaten my first meal of the day, Mark returned ─ and set about doing some fence maintenance out in the backyard, making full use of the tool shed that I exercise in.

For some reason, my meal seemed to weigh especially heavily, even though it was not exactly a large feed. It was sufficiently uncomfortable that I decided to yet again make a return to bed ─ after all, I had no Internet to otherwise entertain myself.

And so at 1:37 p.m., I was abed and lying upon my left side to facilitate my meal's assimilation. I even approached a state of napping, but I was gradually pulled from it by an annoying cramping in what seemed to be my left foot's instep arch area that was making a couple of my toes involuntarily curl.

It wasn't painful ─ just too bloody annoying to allow of any chance of sleep. A check of the time revealed that only 35 minutes had elapsed since I had gone back to bed.

Oh, well. I rose, and found that Mark was still outside toiling at the fence.

But I soon found that the Internet was back! 

Mark finally suspended his work and came back into the house around 2:45 p.m., and was in a reasonably good mood. He was pleased enough to learn that the Internet was back and that our Android TV Box was no longer useless.

I thought to perhaps tune in an episode of one of our shows, and turned on the T.V., discovering that the preliminaries of FOX UFC Fight Night were just about to start (3:00 p.m. here in the Pacific Time Zone) ─ I wasn't expecting the show until 5:00 p.m.

This seemed perfect to Mark for killing off some time, so we settled in to watch the first match. And that was all he was to see ─ someone ("Brad") phoned him from what I suspect was a bar or pub, and Mark agreed to join "them."   

With Mark's departure, I cancelled out of the show ─ I wanted to get a start on this blog post.

My eyes sure do seem bad today ─ that is, my vision is especially impaired.

I am hoping to be able to get to bed early this evening, so I hope that Mark gets along with his girlfriend Bev and spends the night at her residence as he usually does on Saturday nights.

I want to hike away very early in the morning to catch the 6:00 a.m. opening of Save-On-Foods in the Nordel Crossing Shopping Centre (Scott Road & Nordel Way) here in Surrey

It's about 2½ miles from here, and about a mile farther than the Save-On-Foods outlet I normally shop at. But I am optimistic that the Nordel Way outlet is more heavily stocked ─ in particular, I hope to find a 4½-kilogramme pail of Golden Boy natural crunchy peanut butter.

The nearer outlet used to stock these pails, but I haven't seen one in a year or more. We go through a lot of peanut butter in this household!

The nearer Save-On-Foods outlet doesn't open until 8:00 a.m., and that leads me to believe that the more distant store must be the more dominant outlet if it opens a full two hours earlier. 

But I will not know unless I go there ─ and I hate being out in the public. That is why I want to do this as early as is feasible, and be back home again before too many people are extant. 

Incidentally, I returned to that MMA telecast because I wanted to see the match-up of a pair of women on the roster: Michelle Waterson versus Cortney Casey.  

I had no familiarity with either name before ─ I simply find myself amazed by the prowess of some of these outstanding young athletic women.

My eldest stepson Tho happened to be seated at the dining table having something to eat, so I talked with him a little before turning on the T.V. ─ I had no idea when the gals would be fighting.

Well, as it happened, they were already into it when I got the programme on, with maybe 40 seconds left in the first round.

I have to admit to gravitating towards shorter Michelle Waterson ─ she looked rather cute, and she had very muscular legs. Her nickname is "the Karate Hottie."

The fight went the distance, and although all three of the judges called it as 29 / 28 for all three rounds, two of them gave the win to Michelle (technically, her win was what is known as a split decision).

Michelle's interview afterward revealed a very winded fighter.

I read an article today that has me wondering about breathing during strenuous activity ─ is it conceivable that we actually breath more efficiently during activity by doing the breathing through our nose rather than by gulping and sucking down air with our mouth?

According to the following article, we supposedly breath far deeper into our lungs by using our nose than our mouth:


It has always seemed to me that when I have been aerobically pushed to my limit and I am absolutely gasping for air, and pacing about just to keep the blood flowing to prevent myself from passing out or suffering cardiac arrest, survival dictates inhaling volumes of air through my mouth.

To immediately try and do this level of inhalation through the limited air channels of my nose would put me at risk of some degree of systemic collapse, imperiling my very life.

I gave it a shot this afternoon with a set of 111 of my version of Hindu squats. 

Normally, I breathe through my mouth; and in fact, I first read instruction on the performance of these squats that directed to breathe so with as much exhalation as possible. The claim was that one's breathing should be loud enough to be heard on the other side of a gym, if that is where one was  performing the exercise.  

That had to have been 15 or more years ago, and the instruction came from a guy called Matt Furey.

Well, I was able to get through the full set, forcing myself not to use my mouth, but it certainly seemed to go against all instinct.

Even afterward, I 'came down' from the oxygen starvation by limiting myself to nose-breathing as I paced about for awhile.

I will have to practice this method before I am convinced that we actually breathe deeper into our lungs when we use our nose than by breathing through our mouth.

A person would definitely need very clear nasal passageways ─ any level of mucous blockage would be absolutely debilitating.

Whatever the case, it would be remarkable if true that we actually expend more fat by nose-breathing than we do by breathing heavily through our mouth.

Still, fat-burning aside, it just seems illogical to me that somebody engaged in a supreme race such as running a mile in a high-level competition could possibly do it efficiently by breathing solely through the nose.

Let's drop the topic now and move on to some more photos that were taken earlier this year after my wife Jack went back to Thailand to have an extended visit with her mother.

Quite early into that holiday, Jack brought five of her family members to Bali in order for them to reunite with her two sons, who had both taken two weeks off work to help make this reunion possible.

Apparently the following three photos display some historical images that were probably on the walls of the hotel or whatever it was that Jack and her group were staying at ─ the photos were likely taken on January 27 (2018):

This is Jack:

Jack's sister Lumpoon is in these next two photos displaying some of the other decor:

The following month ─ on February 25, to be precise ─ Lumpoon's daughter was to marry. 

This little girl in the next three photos was perhaps the Thai equivalent of a flower girl ─ I suspect that the location for the photos (which were taken by Lumpoon's son Mark) was somewhere in the city of Udon Thani, for my wife Jack's home village of Nong Soong is only about a 15-minute drive from there:

I don't know who the young girl is, but she is certainly a cutie! 

As I have been typing this early into the evening now, I can hear very light rain falling upon the carport roof just outside the open window of the upstairs room my computer is in.  

I am ready to bring today's post to a close, so here is an old journal entry of mine from 41 years ago when I was 27 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

I was renting in a private home located on Ninth Street [Google map], and two houses up from Third Avenue. 

I had written the day before that I was leaving my room at 1:30 p.m. to hike out to the duplex unit that my younger brother Mark was renting in Surrey.

The duplex's exact location is now forgotten by me, but it was not too very far along Semiahmoo Road [Google map] from where it detaches from Old Yale Road. 

I had also written that I expected to be spending the night. For the past five or so months, I had been spending so much time at Mark's suite that I had my own access, and may have been there as much as I was at my own room.

It was my intention to visit my mother Irene Dorosh this day ─ she and her husband Alex lived less than three miles from Mark.

Their little home in the Kennedy Heights area of Surrey was my main mailing address. And although that little house no longer exists, its address was 12106 - 90th Avenue [Google map].
THURSDAY, April 14, 1977

Yesterday, Al Stewart driving along Old Yale with a biker friend saw me, and stopped to say hello. No! Oh, yes, it was yesterday.

[Very large Al Stewart was a young fellow newly engaged to my young maternal cousin Wendy Halverson.]

Bill phoned me that evening, for no real reason.

[William Alan Gill was an old friend of mine.]

I went to mom's today. My weight, at the very most, was barely 186 [pounds]. But I ate very heavily.

I napped well.

Apparently Nell, Jock, & Colleen had visited mom yesterday, and Jock confirmed he'd like to have me help him on Haul-away's clean-up week. (Al had said Jock wasn't driving yet, and would only be replacing a guy for the summer. This curbed my hopes.)

[Nell Halverson was my aunt, and Jock (John) and Colleen were two of her adult children, and thus my cousins. Jock was getting work with the company ─ Haul-Away, or whatever it was ─ that had the garbage collection service in this area back then, and I had been nurturing the notion that perhaps I might manage to get working with him full-time.]

After I got back to Mark's, the phone rang at 3:00 p.m. It was Phyllis' boyfriend Bruce following up a suggestion of hers, seeing if I was interested in renting a place from him.

[Phyllis is my older maternal half-sister.] 

I showed too much interest trying to be kind (I wasn't interested), and thus he offered to come over to Mark's and pick me up to show me what he had. 

He came c. 3:30 p.m.

The previous tenant paid $75, but Bruce stressed that the guy was seldom around. Too, there is a phone and cablevision I may have to pay as well, do I take the place.

"The place" turned out to be a trailer, and though very small within, it is nice, with a toilet and shower, stove and heater, and a fridge.

I actually felt some attraction for the idea of renting it.

Phyllis had come, on her way to work, so I left with her, getting a ride to Semiahmoo. I said I'd see about moving in this weekend.

But now I'm second thinking a bit.

Anyway, I left Mark's at nearly 11:30 p.m. with a letter he wanted me to stamp and mail for him, and a $30 cheque he wants me to cash for him tomorrow.

My U.I. cheque for $146 was here, I found; it has the claim card for the next one too.

Bed: 12:55 a.m.
I walked back to my room in New Westminster that late evening.

I kept expecting that each Unemployment Insurance cheque was to be my last, so it was always a big relief to not only receive another one, but to also have a claim card come with it to fill out for the next cheque.

I do not remember seeing this trailer I wrote of, but I think that it was likely the one Mark was to eventually move into. If so, it was located along 128th Street, and maybe between the 12600 - 12700 blocks.

It was well hidden among a great many evergreen trees, and off the main road. Bruce's house was there near the road, and the trailer rather deep behind it among the trees.

I now do not recall the sure spelling of Bruce's last name, but it was something like Kaduhr.

These journal entries help me to learn so much about my life that I had long forgotten.
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