I don’t like my coffee. I love my coffee! My coffee can sometimes suck. Most of the time it’s paradise. Hell! Come to think of it, if you’re like me, coffee has been a part of many major moments in your life. When I helped plan our wedding, we chose the type of coffee to serve at the reception. When my wife Zee and I visited the Kauai Coffee Company while on vacation. Around the times each of my children were born, I certainly had coffee. I’m literally sitting in a Starbucks working on this post. When I finished my first 50k, my wife handed me a cup of coffee as I wrapped up the last few miles. My 40 mile run for my 40th birthday and my first 50 mile attempt I had a bunch of coffee too.

My earliest memories drinking coffee was at a really young age. I think I was about 5 , but didn’t technically drink it. Rather had it in food. Definitely at an age when I occasionally was spoon-fed. That is exactly how I had my first taste of coffee. For whatever reason, my grandmother, Nanay,  scooped a teaspoon of her coffee and splash it onto some steamed white rice and fed it to me. And I like it! My grandmother’s coffee likely had sugar in, which made it yummy. It’s a fond memory. Grandma’s brand of coffee was Maxwell House, which was purchased grounded and sold in a steel can. She used a metal stove-top percolator over a gas flame to brew her coffee. Always with a little bit of sugar.

Growing up in a Filipino household in Guam, I was around a lot of family gatherings which ended up being all-nighters and carrying into the next day or days. They lasted so long because of gambling tables that were often set up. Primarily cards and mahjong. It seemed a cultural thing and was all in social fun. Since the adults were doing all-nighters with these games, the host would provide some food and coffee. As a way to pay back the host for, every game winner would put a portion of their winnings into a tip bucket or the tong. If the gathering was at someone else’s home, my brother Albert and I would get bored out of our minds. If we weren’t playing cards or mahjong ourselves, we’d be bored out of our minds and drinking coffee. A foam cup, maybe some Maxwell House brand coffee, Carnation brand coffee creamer, and C&H brand sugar cubes. If not the sugar cubes, the granulated sugar which sometimes had ants in the bowl. This is where I had my own self-prepared cup of coffee and it was a rare thing for me to have.

I didn’t start drinking coffee again till after high school when I started a job. There wasn’t a Starbucks in Guam at the time. There wasn’t a Starbucks at all at the time. Just the office coffee and often times the coworkers and I would provide the grounds and the coffeemaker. A lot of coffee and with great variety. The varieties of coffees were: strong, weak, fresh, old, or burnt.

For a long time I enjoyed my coffee black in all the varieties mentioned above and avoided added sweetener. Since becoming fat-adapted on Vinnie Tortorich’s NSNG Lifestyle I’ve learned to add some fat into my coffee. I’ll switch up depending on what is available, my mood, or my energy needs. Sometime it just black coffee. Most of the time its with a splash of heavy whipping cream.  Sometimes I’ll use some unsalted Kerrygold butter, MCT oil, coconut cream, or coconut oil.

At one former dot com job in the early 2000s, which had the fancy Italian espresso machine along side the regular coffee maker, I watched a coworker pour himself a cup of day-old room temperature coffee. I pointed out that fact to him in case he didn’t realize it, and he simply shrugged unconcerned and said “It’s coffee”. You see this guy is also a U.S. Marine, which meant he ain’t a pussy and clearly not a pussy coffee drinker. I learned something about drinking coffee that morning. HUA!

When my brother and I were growing up, there was a great WWII movie that our dad used to watch, starring the true American hero Audie Murphy, called “To Hell and Back” (affiliate link). For some footage of the film, but not the coffee scene checkout the YouTube clip below. It was based on Audie’s real life experience and I recommended it if you’re into true stories and WWII movies.  Anyway, there was a scene where a few soldiers met up, while the enemies were away repairing their busted tank, and one of the America soldiers had a metal coffee pot to make coffee for himself and the rest of the men. Nothing but destruction, death, guns, and ammo. Despite the blood, smoke, and grime, probably the only pot of coffee in the area. Possibly the last pot of coffee they’ll ever get to see. Whenever I have coffee that is not spectacular, I think about their pot of coffee and it being all there is. That thought doesn’t make my crappy cup of coffee taste better, it helps make it the best fucking coffee on the planet, to be thankful, and to not be a pussy about it. It’s coffee!

Thanks for reading and please enjoy whatever you are drinking. If it’s coffee I’d love for you to share a picture of you, your coffee, or both on Facebook where you can Like and follow Ru El’s Running.

Cheers!