This is just a little nugget of knowledge that won't relate to everyone but I thought I'd share in case there's someone out there that might be experiencing a similar story-line as me.  
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Every year it seems I go through the same cycle of living a intensely healthy active lifestyle, feeling invincible and then ultimately  getting sick.  As I'm suffering from yet another respiratory infection today I've decided to step back and examine this. What am I missing? Is there some superfood out there that I'm not already adding to my smoothies that promises to boost my immune system? Is there another breathing technique that I'm not already making time out of my day to practice like the Wim Hof Method or Tummo? Is a plant-based diet not the best diet for me? Is there a stretch, a yoga move I need to know about. Sign me up!

From researching this it turns out the answer for me is pretty simple. I'm over-training and in turn weakening my immune system. I've noticed a pattern to this yearly cycle to where every year there will be a time period that I'm running farther and faster than ever and I get so excited about it I really start challenging my body to handle way beyond the work load it's use to and then.. sniff sniff cough cough.. I'm sick. Running can and will strengthen your immune system but overdoing it will drastically have the opposite effect.

Interesting enough there might be a way to combat this. Taking 3/4 of a tablespoon of nutritional yeast after excessive bouts of exercise has shown to increase the bodies white blood cell count and help preserve immune function. Even though the body sees the yeast as a foreign substance and triggers the immune system there is no unwanted inflammatory response to it. Amazingly enough, studies have shown an anti-inflammatory response. Nutritional Yeast by the way taste great on anything you want to give a cheesy flavor to.. soup, salads, pizza, nachos, etc..  

After I'm up and running again I will for sure be incorporating this into my post workout meals in the future... and maybe take it a little easier when I feel like putting that cape and tights on again. 

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• 1 large sweet potato, baked whole (approximately 1 cup once cooked)
• 1/2 cup chickpeas, cooked and coarsely mashed
• 1/4 cup kalamata olives, sliced
• 1/4 cup roasted red bell peppers, diced
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 3 tbsp red onion, finely minced
• 3 tbsp fresh parsley, finely chopped
• 1/4 cup dry rolled oats, ground into meal
• 1 tbsp onion powder
• 1/2 tsp cumin powder
• 1/8 tsp cayenne, or to taste
• 1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
• 3/4 tsp salt (optional)

Once your sweet potatoes are baked whole and cooled, peel the skin off and set aside. Note: Be sure you do not steam or boil the sweet potatoes since they will retain too much water, making the burger batter quite wet.
To prepare the burger mixture, in a mixing bowl, toss together all ingredients except the oats, pressing the potato until the mixture begins to bind. If the mixture is a bit too moist, add some of the rolled oats — they will help to absorb a bit of the excess moisture. You will likely need all of the oats, but not necessarily, so just add them a bit at a time until the burger holds together slightly when gently squeezed in your hand.


To bake the burgers, place them into a pre-heated 400°F (205°C) oven.
Form the mixture into burger size patties, or into small sliders, and place on a lightly–sprayed baking sheet. Bake for 20 minutes, flip and continue baking for an additional 5 to 8 minutes, or until both sides are golden.

​Assemble, eat, repeat.

• 2 cups raw cashews
• 4 to 6 cups warm water
• 1 cup onion, diced
• 2 cloves garlic
• 2 tbsp olive oil (optional if you choose to use oil in this dish)
• 1 1/2 cups vegetable stock
• 1/2 cup dry white wine
• 2 1/2 tbsp nutritional yeast
• 1 tbsp onion granules
• pinch of freshly grated nutmeg
• pinch of white pepper
• 1 Sweet Potato
• 1 tsp sea salt (optional)

In a medium bowl, soak the cashews in water for 3 to 4 hours to soften. Strain, reserving the cashews and discarding the liquid.

Poke holes in the sweet potato with a fork, using your hands cover with veg oil and wrap loosely in foil. Bake for 40 mins at 375 degrees or until done.

Heat the pan to low to medium heat and add the olive oil. Add the onions and sweat for at least 5-8 minutes to bring out the flavor until translucent. Continue by then adding the garlic and sweat for an additional couple minutes.

Transfer the cooked onions and garlic into the blender. 

To finish the sauce, add the cashews, the remaining vegetable stock, white wine, garlic, nutritional yeast, onion granules, nutmeg, white pepper and salt (if using). Blend on high speed until smooth. Add more liquid if you choose to have a thinner consistency.

Scoop out some of the baked potato and fill with greens.

Enjoy!

First skydive!! It was amazing!! My Brother did it too! Falling from 14,000 feet at 120MPH with a temperature of 5 degrees. I'm not the greatest with heights so this was a real challenge for me. Two things I found amusing. There was a guy on the plane going up to jump who was checking Facebook on his phone as if this isn't interesting enough he has to see what other people are up to. And second, the camera guy was yelling at me to smile before jumping. I don't think anyone jumping out of a plane for the first time naturally smiles. With that said, my life is in their hands so I was doing everything they said without question so you can see me hilariously force a smile for the camera. I would describe the overall experience in stages that can be read from all the looks on my face starting with nervousness of getting ready... the terror of having to lean out of the plane to jump.. the mind-blowing adrenaline pumping exhilaration of free-falling 120MPH (my hat filled up with air and was about to fly off my head).. the happiness and joy of floating to the ground and weirdly when it was all over I was questioning myself, "Did that really just happen? I was falling out of the sky. I did a God damn D.B. Cooper right out of that plane!" ​

The Marines have a 30% rule. The moment you think your body can't take anymore punishment you're really only 30% done. The human body is capable of enduring and adapting to an amazing amount of physical abuse. If you're reading this.. and you are a human.. yes, I'm talking about you. If you are not human and you're reading this, please contact me. I'm curious.

When it comes to endurance activities, it seems having the mental attitude to keep pushing forward is pretty damn important. I think I achieved some solid mental push-ups the last few days to push myself to get home (AKA Mom's condo in Alsip, IL). I don't think the milage would impress the average cyclist but keep in mind before judging.. I wasn't able to train properly for this trip because of an injury, it's been 16 days of riding and half sleeping on the side of the road or trail and I've got a loaded down bicycle with alllll that stuff.

Back in Missouri when I thought I had made my final decision to turn back, I still had my doubts it was the right one. Even after riding 50 miles back east to St. Charles, MO. I spotted Picasso’s coffeeshop and thought that looks like a good place to get a cup a coffee and think on it. As I stepped in and before the recoiling springs can even close the door behind me, a patron stands up and asks me in a way as if he knows I must have gotten asked his impending question a million times already “OK, where you coming from? Where you going?” I share my new route with him and he seems impressed. I share my original route with him and he seems like most people, speechless. I also share with him my dilemma on not knowing if I should continue or ride back home. My new coffee loving friend Adam, suggests I go down the street and talk to Joey, owner of the outdoor gear store, Take A Hike. He assured me would be a good person to talk to about my problem.

I head over there half expecting Joey to look like some bearded, white robe wearing adventure wizard with some magical walking stick that will reveal my true path. Nope.. he's sporting a T-shirt and ball cap and looks like.. a guy named Joey. As I walk up to the store he swings the door open and says “Come on in man! Adam told me you might be coming by”. In short, he really helped me figure it out. When you're doing something you love whether it be cycling, hiking or surfing, you do it to be in the moment and forget about your problems. Not to dislike the thing you love and create a new set of problems. What a great guy! He even mailed a package back home for me!

Thank you adventure wizard… with the best prices on the internet.

Keeping my promise to stay in contact.. I call my mother and let her know of my new plan. “OK Jimmy, let me know where you are and I'll come pick you up.” Oh God! The last thing I want is my mommy to come pick me up! Because of this and thinking about anyone who didn't believe I could have physically complete this route lit a fire under my ass. OK, let's see what I'm made of then and test myself. How fast can I get home?

I decided not to go back the same way and cross into IL and try and follow old Route 66 home. While free camping with my tarp and sleeping bag, I was able to cover some good distances including 118 & 121 mile rides back to back on my last two days. I fought off more goose attacks and out ran the farm dogs. Plowed through so many bugs along the Mississippi it sounded like it was raining as they collided against my helmet. Rode miles on large rocky gravel roads that had me asking the Lord for relief through my teeth clattering from the vibration. Finding creeks I could filter water from. Getting beat up by the drafts of passing 80mph cars and semis while fighting head winds among huge windmills that gave me the sense in my exhusted delirium that I was golf ball getting wacked around in a giant miniature golf course. Steep 21% grades, and yes, more rain, rain, cold rain right into the night. I tell myself don't stop! Keep this 15mph average I've held in the final few minutes of this final ten hour ride home. Finally arriving on my mom's street of 123rd & Cicero. “I'm gonna do it!” I screamed. With just a quarter mile to go there's a downward slope that allows me to pickup speed and triumphantly finish strong with the idea of turning into the parking lot of my mother's condo complex like some kind of super athletic riding olimpian. Then all of a sudden.. Choo Choo! Ding Ding Ding Ding! Freaking train.. I slowed down, stopped.. and laughed out loud, in the rain, waiting with all the other cars for a very slow moving train to pass by. I wonder what those drivers thought of me?

OK, train gone, I pedal the final few hundred yards. I put my bike in the garage and walk into my Mom's place tired, cold, soaking wet but on a high from my physical achievement yet feeling that I'm 30% done. My mother immediately hands me my mail as if to say, welcome back to the real word, now stop fucking around. My brother is reclining comfortably in a chair, remote in hand and asks, “You wanna watch something on TV man?” And all my nephew is curious about is where did I go ka ka. Yes, it was a hero's welcome.

Side note.. I did arrive before the package Joey mailed for me. It arrived the next morning. Not sure how that speaks of me or the USPS.

About Plan B…
Car + Guitar + Parks = All Smiles

Stats
​Goose attack 3Dog chase 7
Dog attack 0
Human attack 1
Chupacabra sighting 0

Total mileage 1008
Longest days ride 121.6 miles 10hrs
Fastest speed 41.3 mph
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I had the pleasure of meeting Bandit, my first unleashed bike chasing farm dog yesterday for this tour. For my last tour I rode The Grand IL Trail and was bitten by a dog on my second day and chased twelve more times after that in the period of 10 days. For that I note carry pepper spray and have given myself the riding name, DOGBAIT.
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I decided it would be worth it to go back over this rather large hill from my campsite back into the town of Hannibal MO for a cup of joe and see Mark Twain's boyhood home. I took all my bags off my bike for this and placed them in my tent going they'd still be there when i got back. OMG, the bike was so light. What a difference!

I had coffee at the very cool very friendly Java Jive.

Sam's home.

With the warm weather brought out the Buffalo Nats here in MO. I put in a second 90 mile day because of them. If i stop, there all over me in a matter of seconds. They seemingly love to go for the eyes and ears. I noticed if riding any slower than 10mph they're more than willing to keep me company. So this makes going up mile long hills all the more challenging.

​I'm just about to climb one of those hills when i hear a dog to my right start to bark. He's with a young boy and i assume his older sister and yes, he unleaded and running for me. I'm not too worried at first because there is a deep ditch separating us and it's only getting deeper as i climb. The kids are screaming, "Bandit! No! Stop!" Bandit has other plans kids. He went right into the ditch and up the steep embankment like it was nothing. I grabbed the pepper spray that's Velcroed to my bike and aimed it at Bandit's border collie head. Now here's the thing, i really like dogs but I'm not going to let one bite me again. I also realize Bandit is just being.. well.. a dog. So, I showed restraint but if he got in reach of me, game on. Thankfully his little game ended. Because i also realize if i have to pepper spray a dog, the real danger is the owners of that dog when they find out and come after me down the road. Then it's, game over.

​OK, back to the hills, nats, and purifying water from some green muddy looking creeks. I need a hotel! I'm dehydrated most of the time and sooo sore. I need a rest day! Not yet.. I'll rest when it's raining. Plus i have to get ahead of the rumors. There's a whispering low growl out on the street, "Dogbait is riding again".

I headed to Nauvoo, IL and found and all you can eat breakfast buffet for $10. I took advantage of this and fed myself breakfast, mid morning snack, lunch, mid afternoon snack, dinner and dessert. Yep, almost threw up while riding later. It's so hard to be vegan when doing something like this but that's for another post. Anyway, it's a nice little town, nice people, is like to go back there sometime.

A town i never want to see again is Quincy, IL. It's heavy on the industrial side and i experienced a few bad things traveling through there but I'll tell you this one. I rode up to a park restroom and remember seeing this guy in a pickup weirdly parked next to it. I took my bike inside with me in went in the open stall ( no door) to do my business. I hear the pickup door slam shut and that dude walks in and pretends to pee, i guess. I'm just glad i can see my bike at this point and know everything is OK. So, he leaves but i can hear him walking around the rest room outside. I can also see his feet through the bar window directly in front of me. Well this guy gets down on all fours to look through it. So here i am sitting there looking at him and him looking at me. I say, "Yo man! What are you doing!" He left in a hurry but i can hear that he's having trouble getting his truck started and i imagined the panic in his little perverted mind. Thankful he was soon on his way and i couldn't get out of there sooner.

​I biked over 90 miles today and crossed into MO! Camping at Mark Twain Cave. It's a new state and a new chapter for this tour. It's been much more challenging than fun but I'm determine to keep pedaling. Dreaming of those mountians and Parks. Treating myself to a glass of wine. Yes, a winery in the campground! :)

I thought I'd have nothing to write about for day one. Boy, was i wrong. Because of some issues with the bike i actually left to start this tour today instead of on April 26th. I'm in my tent in Morris IL at my first free (/totally illegal) campsite as i write this. I have a lot to say but I'll be breif cuz I'm tired.

I've read some books on how other people have biked or hiked across the US and we're in awe of how nice and generous fills were. In fact, that was my experience with my first and only bike tour i did a couple years ago. This time, not so much. At least not day one. So far my guitar got clipped my the mirror of a pickup truck (so that's gone), i was shoved off my bike, had someone pretend they were going to run me over, got garbage thrown at me and also got called an asshole. Yep, it's been a full day. Ugh.. I no it'll get better though.

Anyway, I'm including a pic of my campsite for those who were envious of what I'm doing. Maybe you still are, maybe not. Also for those who think I'm crazy so you can rest asure you were right. Ha..

OK, that's it for now.
​Be kind..

I told you all i had a better map. Haha.. I got these from Adventure Cycling Association. Pricey but awesome! Saved me a lot of time in trying to figure out a safe route. They even list bike shops, grocery stores and campgrounds.

As an unknown full-time independent musician, there is struggle that goes on in my mind of insecurities verses a love for creativity that I’m sure other artists can relate to. At a time when one thing after the other was going wrong and I found myself questioning why do I even bother to continue to do this? Then I found a note in my tip jar that reminded me exactly why.
 
Friday and Sunday afternoons I play a somewhat noisy restaurant near home. I stopped performing this instrumental version of Don McLean’s song “Vincent” (also known as “Starry Starry Night”) because of one of the managers at the restaurant actually had the nerve to complain to me that he didn’t like it. The idea that he would do this is bad enough but he took it one step further by voicing his dislike for it loudly while I was playing it. “Hey Jim, you’re putting me to sleep with that one! How about putting a little pep in my step?”  To many of you reading this, this might seem like no big deal but this was the first of a series disheartening events to happen that had me questioning everything I was doing musically. Some were worse but this one relates to what happens in the end.
 
So, long story short, I’m back at that same restaurant with Mr. Pep in My Step and I haven’t played “Vincent” there or at any gig in over a month. Even though he might voice his complaint again, even though it’s loud as hell with all the people talking in here, even though I’m so out of practice with this tune.. I like it and I’m playing it! I start it up and I instantly see this manger’s look of disapproval as he stares at me. I’m filled with anxiety. What’s he going to say now? But, half way into the song I notice the room has gotten eerily silent. Surprisingly most people were fixed on listening. There was even a number of tables in the far back of the room that a large family had put together to sit at and they even went as far to stop eating and turn their chairs around to see me and listen. Needless to say this was inspiring and I played that song probably better than ever before. At the end of the song, I received much needed spirit lifting applause. Any clapping at all is rare for this usually noisy venue. It felt good.
 
What felt amazing was reading the note I found in my tip jar (that originally I thought was garbage.. yes that really happens) after the gig. I can only assume it was left by the woman of that large family in the back of the room. I started to tear up as I read it. All the bad vibes from before, they’re gone. I LOVE PLAYING MUSIC. 
​(Read note below)

  In the dunes north of Jaffa on a stretch of Tel Aviv beachfront property, I sat with my guitar. Perched twelve meters above the beach looking out towards The Mediterranean Sea, I thought, this is the place. This is where I’m going to create a song. This is where my so called writer’s block that has laid siege to my creativity these past two months ends. I felt confident it was a special place, the right place. Now I just needed that special moment. Creating music is funny business. One cannot force it, only let it happen. In the same way you cannot force yourself to sleep. You have to let yourself fall asleep. So, with guitar in lap, I waited for a visually inspiring moment that I could drift away on and let it happen. A moment of clarity that would hopefully allow me to create a musical idea that would ultimately become a song.
 
  Below me people walked along the beach with anticipation of the setting sun. They strolled along soaking in all the sounds of the sea. Nearby, boats carefully navigated their way into the harbor to tie their vessels to the dock and call it a day. There was one boat in particular that caught my eye, a sailboat. It set sail, exited the harbor and headed out to sea. Unbeknownst to its passengers or me, this boat would create my moment of inspiration.
 
  The sun blazed a burgundy red with one quarter of it already disappearing below the horizon. The sailboat was heading north and turned west. As it did, in one of those extraordinary moments of chance, it fell right into my line of sight with the setting sun. The sailboat, was now silhouetted as the wind carried it further away and the sky turned into a swirling mixture of red, yellow, orange, and gold. It was then, without even needing to think about it, that my hands and fingers took to their natural course on my guitar and “Sailing Sunsets” was conceived. The pressures I put on myself no longer existed. I played the melody and chord progression as if I’ve always known it, like a distant memory coming to mind.
 
  In thinking about that moment now, I didn’t just write a song. I learned a life lesson. The more you fight something in your mind the more it pushes back. To worry about something is bad.  In knowing that, if you worry that you’re worrying, you can really make things hell for yourself. Acceptance can be a beautiful thing. In getting out of the way and letting go, you can actually gain control. Like I said before, writing music is funny business, but life certainly can be too. Performing “Sailing Sunsets” now always brings me back to that place and that time that made everything seem like it was just as it should be. My perspective on sunsets is quite different these days because of it. Each time I see one, I no longer think of it as the end of a day, but the beginning of a song.
 
  It's my heartfelt hope that the combination of the song, video, and story, will at the very least give you a glimpse into my experience. At the very most, relieve you of any worry and transport you there as well. 

Click here to listen to the full album

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  Pictures of the dramatic and lush Hawaiian Na Pali Coast stir hikers’ wanderlust, but the Kalalau Trail hugging this dramatic coastline also triggers something far less romantic: terror. Some hikers had a hard time with some of the drop-offs. The trail bed is narrow and crumbly, the footing is twice as treacherous after the island’s abundant rainfall turned the track into a greasy slip ‘n slide.. not amusing when you’re edging along a 300-foot cliff that spills straight into a rocky surf. But despite such dangers and a rated '9' out of '10' in degrees of difficulty by the Sierra Club, many hikers, including myself continue to make the 11-mile (one way) pilgrimage to Kalalau, one of the world’s most beautiful and secluded beaches. Despite the muddy conditions, out of all the trails I’ve hiked so far, this one is my favorite. I couldn’t wait to turn the next corner or climb to the next vista. The scenery was ever changing and got better and better.  

  ​4 miles in you enter what I call.. Jurassic Park. Thankfully I did not encounter and T-Rexs.. although if there were any I’m sure they could have smelled me. That was a tough 4 miles so far and it only got tougher. For me, that’s part of the fun. 

​  Until.. I slipped on a boulder during a river crossing. Luckily there were two other boulders nearby that I landed on with my shin bone taking the brunt of the hit. (that’s a joke)

​  As the Kalalau Trail weaves in and out of Na Pali’s fins, the gets very narrow at times. The steep ledges scream danger as they dive into the ocean below. Lose your balance, trip or slip and it’s game over. Seeing how Kauai had seen a good amount of rain in the last few days it made the muddiest sections of the trail quite dangerous. Leaning my body and pack weight to my left into the cliff and grabbing at any exposed roots I could find, I walked very slowly on this 3 foot wide trail. With every step my foot slowly slid towards the edge of the trail as I put weight on it. (no pics of that folks, sorry) There are parts of the Kalalau Trail that made me feel alive.. this is the part that reminded me I wanted to stay that way.

Some other Kauai pics.. not from the Kalalau though.

Had a great time opening for Johnny Rivers at his sold out show at The Arcada in St. Charles, IL. I'll be posting a few videos of my performance on YouTube soon. Checkout my channel HERE a subscribe so you know when. 

I love running. I realize how strange this statement sounds to some people. When making it, I tend to get the same kind of question from non runners asking, how I could love something that causes me so much pain and discomfort. I had a friend once tell me, “I hate running. If you see me running down the street, throw a blanket over me because I must be on fire!” It can be somewhat of a challenge to express the love for running to someone with this sort of attitude and fear of spontaneous human combustion. But today, I’m digging deep and feel a need to express it. I do not expect every non runner to read this and make a bee-line for the nearest Nike outlet but, maybe just a better understanding of why we “crazy people” do this “crazy” thing.

 I started running as a teenager out of overwhelming frustration and stress (oh those wonder years). Confused about how to deal with my then situation I pulled a Forest Gump and bolted out of the house and started running down the street… and kept running. Totally unplanned, wearing blue jeans, and no water. Forget complex carbohydrates, I had pure teenage angst fueling this run. In the end I think I only made it to the other side of the next town but it was great because I was so damn exhausted to even think about all those things that were gnawing at my brain at the time.

Gradually my runs became less spontaneous and more planned and deliberate. What started out as a way to exhaust myself from thinking had become a way to think more clearly. A running meditation if you will. No music, in tune with my surrounding, listening to the rhythm of my footsteps, awareness of my breathing, I feel like there is a real art to it and is very similar to traditional meditation in some ways.
Besides the physically fit advantages, I feel running has helped me on life’s journey and has personally shown me a path leading to better and brighter days. I’m more confident and can step out of my comfort zone more easily because of it. When I’m on those hot and sweaty long runs I kind of feel like I’m being purified and I’m recreating a better me. American Philosopher William James was quoted saying, "Beyond the extreme of fatigue and distress, we may find amounts of ease and power we never dreamed ourselves to own". 
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I don’t know if running is for everybody but it works for me. I you feel like you want to give it a go, give your body some time to adapt and you might surprise yourself by suddenly subscribing to Runner’s World Magazine. Unfortunately “Most people don’t run far enough of their first wind to discover they have a second” WJ.