Sunday, September 25, 2011

Un-Natural Born Athlete

I realized that I never posted this on this blog page...and AS the soliloquy that gave birth to its name-sake, it PROBS should be on here somewhere.  Most of you have already read this so you are under no obligation to read it again.  This is strictly for continuity.

Listen…I am NOT a natural born athlete.  I am not one of those people to whom physicality comes naturally.  You can certainly ask anyone who has seen me do anything for the first time to verify that fact.  Ask ANYONE who has seen me on a step mill EVER. Not once have I step milled (yup it’s a verb) and NOT tripped or caught my big floppy toe.  Ask any of the people who have seen me run into any of the various obtrusive pieces of stationary globo gym equipment while just walking to the water fountain…like the BIG stuff the hammer strength stuff that doesn’t move.  Ask Jake or Alan, who witnessed me max out my vertical jump that one time, how un-graceful and un-poetic each attempt was.  I am not a natural born athlete.  I thought about it once, (I think…only once because I tend to ruminate a little SHOCKING) my short comings, and I felt that over thinking this one would more than likely force me into another genre of habitual past times like collecting beanie babies or something far more mundane and sedimentary and less well…dangerous…and I came to a clear realization.

I’m not a natural born athlete.  I was born to be heavy, I was born to be slow, I was born to procrastinate, and I was born to under achieve or get by on the bare minimum.  I know that.  I have been in my head and I have seen my own habits and bore witness to my own methods.  I am not a natural born athlete.  Everything I do is hard for me.  Every time I run I’m taxed.  Every time I swing a kettle-bell, power clean 155#, walk up walls, pull up, push down, jump over…it’s difficult and I want to stop.  I am not a natural born athlete.  I beat myself mentally before I start.  I think of ways to give up mid stride.  I don’t see progression.  I have to practice.  I have to fail…a LOT.  I have to do things over and over and over and over.  I have to drag myself sometimes…most times.  I get angry with myself multiple times in every workout.   I am not a natural born athlete.  I know I have limits I face them daily.  I know that when I get home today and strap on my pack that it’s going to hurt and its going to wear on me and I will struggle up hills and over rocks.  I am not a natural born athlete.  I am not particularly good at anything but I do all of these things despite how familiar I am with just that fact.  I am not a natural born athlete, but I disregard that handicap I perform as best as I can…that’s, I guess, what makes me an athlete.

I JUST Hate Cardio is All

I have to tell you people this is MORE than likely MUCH funnier to me than anyone, but I'm going to make you all read about it anyways.  Do you like how I think that people hang on my every word? It's simply is just NOT possible that you open this link, read four to five words, realize I'm boring and close it. I am under the great delusion that EVERY word is read digested, marinated , absorbed and reflected upon...I SOOOO like myself huh....ANYWAYS to my point.

It was brought to my attention, through a series of events, that I have some REALLY bad habits.  I mean...we all do but mine are kind of bad; not heroine bad, but bad.  I over use the punctuation "..." I do know that's a bad habit but I take a lot of pauses when I speak so in my head, because I type how I speak (people can attest to that) I type out the necessary breaks.  Another bad habit I have is wearing my emotions on my face.  I have been told for years that I do this and up until this day have stood firmly behind the defense that wearing my emotions on my face is actually a good thing.  How else will people know that I am annoyed by them?  How else will people know that I am angry with them?  How else will people know that I am waiting for them to finish doing bicep curls on the squat rack.  This theory was shattered to bit and pieces today. 

I walk on the SM wearing a 50# weighted vest..  Most of you know that.  Those who don't well now you are aware.  It's terrible.  It never gets any easier which is weird.  It always hurts and it takes FOREVER.  Today there was a woman on the SM next to me..well two down from me texting and stepping away.  I people watch to distract myself from physical suck so I watched her and some other women on elliptical and TMs.  When SM chick was done I watched her get down wipe off her machine and trot off to lady land to do whatever ladies do at the gym.  No bigs right?

Later after I had been thoroughly disrespected by my warm up I was talking to a beef brain I had met and he said to me "Not to be rude but can I ask you a question?" (OH how I love things that start out with "not to be rude", "don't get offended",  "this is going to come out wrong",  "we are out of asparagus") "Sure" was my tentative response..."what did that woman in the purple leggings do to make you so angry?" I stopped stunned and confused...I had no idea what he was talking about and explained this to him "the woman on the SM near stared at her when she got off as if you wanted to pull her arms off and feed them to her kids" (ok so he just said I looked like I wanted to rip her arms off but I reserve the right to elaborate for effectiveness)  I explained to him what again has always been my response when people tell me I look angry all the time that:  "It's just what I look like I get it from my dad".  After we were done I thought about it.  I put myself back at the time of her dismount and I had the sudden realization that at that moment I WAS in fact very angry with her.  That skunt was DONE and I was NOT...I realize that I have CONSTANT end time envy when I do cardio stuff.  I have so much disdain for the practice that whenever I watch someone finish up I am completely jealous...but like that CRAZY kind that makes you want to hurt them, and as stated earlier I wear my emotions on my face. 

I would like to express my deepest and sincerest apologies to anyone who thinks or is afraid that I am going to follow them out to their car and break their legs.  That is in fact not at all what is going on in my head...I just hate cardio is all.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Way to Think That Through

So as some of you may or may not know I had to make a major life change recently.  Again some of you know why some don't and blog I don't have to tell ya if I don't want to and I don't want to so BOOM!!

I was forced against my will and the will of my Diabla to change globo gyms.  Yes I could have driven 2 hours a day one way to continue to be a member of S&H (which by the way I never cancelled my membership...hey Amanda...take care of that thanks ;)) but it's NOT really conducive to me or the recession..or the environment.

I am a new member of a little gym known in the area as Lifetime fitness.  It was pretty much the only choice I had, according to everyone, and I REALLY didn't feel like doing too much research so I went with the gen pop recommendation.
I need to address a few things to Lifetime Fitness who from here forward will be known as Globo the Remix. 
                #1.  Thank you for having an Aveda spa in your facility.  This will make it not hard at all to go oly lift my face off instead of getting a pedicure...way to think that one through.
                #2.  Why is there a water slide in here?  No really...why?
                #3.  While I understand that this is a family establishment if you could PLEASE refrain from hosting children's birthday parties in the room that is DIRECTLY next to the squat rack while I am power clean and pressing.  Here is the issue.  I get REALLY distracted REALLY easily and when I see little faces staring at me (and their dads) through the glass doors I forget to roll my shoulders and the bar lands on my clavicle and I blame them...the wee ones.  Also, 135# is kind of a lot to hold over your head and if you choose at the EXACT moment that I get it over my head to march the minions through THE WEIGHT LIFTING AREA I cannot be held responsible for their safety.  It's a dangerous thing tossing steel and let's face it if they spook me and danger ensues guess whose physical safety I am going to be more concerned with.  I revert back to my FIRST blog for those of you who are having trouble answering this question...I AM SELF INVOLVED.  If a human in training startles me and I dump...I'm dumping forward cause that's what you're supposed to do so watch out little Billy.  Don't worry you're young you heal quickly.
                #4.  I am going to be here a lot ladies and gentlemen and yes I will be upside down a lot so just get used to it...get use to it faster.
                #5.  I will end this rant on a positive note.  Bravo on the eye candy Globo the Remix...bravo.

Monday, September 12, 2011

GORUCK Yourself!

Once again I'm starting a blog out with "Where do I begin" (OK well technically I guess I started this blog out with "once again I'm starting a blog out with "where do I begin" but you all get my point).

This weekend as you all may know was the 10 year anniversary of the attacks on our nation that took place on Sept 11.  I, along with MANY others, chose to commemorate the day in the way we know best...self induced physical pain and mental anguish....YAY!!!!

The events of this weekend started out Friday where I, against her will, forced Mini Me to leave school at noon and sit trapped in my Jetta for 5 hours while we listened to the SAME songs on satellite radio (we can talk about THAT later)  and paid lots of tolls enroute to New York, New York.  Now I was excited to drag her along as she had never been to the big apple that never sleeps of lights and dreams...or whatever it's called,  and I was also excited to YET again force this poor minor to stay up all night in the cold and watch/document me doing stuff.  We ALMOST got her in to participate but alas she is too young and I'm not her parent (yet) so I couldn't say it was OK for her to sign a death waiver...Deb, MMKN we need to make me a legal guardian so I can start putting her in some REAL danger?

We arrived, made it up to the apartment, got settled in and were on our way.  The PLAN was to hop on a subway and hear to the GORUCK Head Quarters for he fundraiser and to kick or the event.  What ACTUALLY happened was we walked a few blocks over to the subway paid like 10 bucks for  some cards to ride the train then couldn't figure out which one to get on so abandoned that plan and just got into a cab.   I made the fatal mistake of trying to tell the cabbie where to go and how to get there...not so much from my own knowledge I just read him the text that my NYC native friend, Maurya, sent me.  OBVI this didn't make him happy and he took me his way, explaining to me the whole time how he knew where I needed to go and the best route to take and had he gone the way I wanted him to go it would have cost me much more money.  SO I thanked the defensive man tipped him well, got out of his cab and waved as he drove off PROBABLY laughing at the fact that he had just dropped me at the wrong spot and was internally amused thinking about what is was going to be like for me to try to figure out where the hell I was.   SO I dragged Mini around in some circles for a little while until MScan, via phone, talked me through the steps I needed to take to get to where I ACTUALLY wanted to be.  It was amazing..."put the sign for the Holland tunnel to your back and walk forward"  She told me that after she realized that asking me to walk south on Canal street was like asking me to invent carbon.  "Do you see a post office on your right? Cross the street.  Now cross to your left to the next corner.  PAUSE and make a 90degree turn to your right."  I did all of that and as if in the matrix there she stood...amazaballs.

We got to the GRHQ and I met with the illustrious team of dudes I would be challenging with the following evening.  Had some beers  donated some cash and we all left to get food and then sleep.  At that time of the night in NYC there is really only one genre of facility you can go to in order to get fed and that is a bar.  We handed off a fake ID to mini, made her memorize the dates and addresses on it and crossed our fingers.  Took a death cab over to the destination (Travie pointed out that you are paying the man to drive you around so getting your monies worth by near death crashes was all part of the ride) WE GOT IN!!!  We all ate, drank and planned the next day's activities.

Slept...awoke...left.  In order to not make this a novel I will skip menial details about strangers in NY that talked to us and serenades from crazies on the subway.   I will just say Mini got the full NYC experience.  FF to 7pm we made it back to GRHQ and got ready for our class to kick off.   We got pushed to the right a little and didn't end up leaving until midnight but I was OK with that.  We became the last class to run the challenge, class 063. is where things start to get a little hairy.  One of the fall backs of participating in events such as the Death  Race and the Beast and the GORUCK Challenge can't really effectively describe it to "civvies".  I can write that as a group we conducted a  few hours of Indian runs and inch worm pushups, bear crawls.  I can tell you with words that we arrived in Washington Park on the NYU campus at 1am where we did walking lunges for 2 hours all while being verbally and physically accosted by the locals and carrying packs with bricks and random other "coupons " donated by our cadre.   I can write that we were presented with a log that weighed no less than 1000# and told that we had to take it back to where it came from...which was in Brooklyn. 

  • Go ahead and Google the distance from 385 Broadway to Brooklyn...I'll wait.

 I can WRITE that after carrying that mother for 4 hours and 20 minutes to the banks of the East River, we were told to get on line and walk into the water, sit down and do flutter kicks.  OBVI we didn't do this synced so we had to do it again.  Then we were lead out of the water where we were lined back up and sent off on our way back across the BK bridge buddy carry style. 

  •  I would like to stop here for a moment and mention that I puked on the BK bridge.  Actually I puked off of the SIDE of the BK bridge onto a cab.  Thats what happens when you get carried for a while after you just ate some shock blocks and granola. 

I can also write that once we got to the skyline where the ghosts of the Twin Towers  stood we all stopped surrounded by what had turned into a police escort, and took a moment to realize that at that moment is was 9am on Sept 11th exactly 10 years after that history changing day.  I can write about the tears and the feelings and the sobriety of that moment.  I can write what it was like to run the rest of the way back to Manhattan, to a statue where we were lined up after 11 hours and were told that our final task was to hug one another and realize what we had all just been through together.  I could write eloquent, descriptive poems about all of it...but unless you were there you won't fully understand what it was like.  You won't understand because I CAN'T  write what amazing feels like. I CAN't write what the faces i saw looked like.  I CAN'T write what "worth it 10 fold" feels like as I try to negotiate stairs and chairs today.  I can't write it, sorry...I guess you had to be there.

To the 343...don't worry we will never forget.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Please don't anyone ever strike me with lightening....

So I have been sitting here thinking about my calibrated ladder of measure. I honestly don’t even know if when I put those three words together they mean what I want them to mean but as a few of you are lucky enough to know....I do what I want and it’s my blog so you all will take it as I intend it.   I have recently become a little concerned about this calibrated ladder of measure that I have committed to memory, have used habitually and developed over the years.   I got really scared when I realized how much I depend on my ability to eyeball ¼ cup of uncooked steel cut oats, 12g worth of protein from chicken/egg whites, the amount of lotion required to properly moisturize my right and left leg.  What if something happened to my brain?  What if my calibrated ladder of measure got skewed...what the crap would become of me?

I realized that I measure a great many things throughout my day.  It turns out that I measure more things than I actually realized (OMG I’m watching Marley and me alone WHY DIDNT ANYONE TELL ME!!) I measure food,  drinks, laundry detergent, weights, shampoo, face soap, dog food, cat food, time, distance, toothpaste, grapes, height, coffee mate, almonds...EVERYTHING.  I am worried about what would happen if my internal calibrated ladder system of measurement (I reserve the right to change what I call it at will) got UN calibrated...what the crap would happen to my day?  What would happen if I woke up and ate 225# of oatmeal topped with a gallon of Greek yogurt and then later went to the globo, walked back into the man cave and loaded 6oz of weights on a bar and started dead lifting it but only once.  I mean...if instead of the palm sized dollop of shampoo that I automatically know to use I pour a comparable amount to laundry detergent.  I put a lot of trust in my internal calibrated ladder of measure and let’s face it I ran my car into my mail box twice pulling out of my driveway (geezus this movie is almost over I need hugs) so how much can I really be trusted to keep ish straight in my head and for how long?  What if I get struck by lightning and started running for 20 feet and doing walking lunges for a 5K…things would get really serious really fast.

There are times…sometimes… when I DO ignore my calibrated ladder of measure and I eat three bags of grapes in two days, but it’s intentional and it’s because no one is watching me and I answer to no one.  There HAVE been instances where my memorized measure for the appropriate amount of coffee mate that needs to be added to my coffee has MAYBE been a little over weight due to a system reboot or some…we will call it memory overload that itself may have been brought on by a mis-measure of pinot noir the evening before BUT … no system is perfect and there are always glitches; which brings me to my concern. 

I am going to ask that maybe just check in on me every now and again to make sure I haven’t gone ahead and fed Larry six individual pieces of dog food and eaten 2 cups of almonds.  If you DO see something like that go down…take me to the hospital as I have suffered head injury or was struck by lightning…thank you in advance for your time.

WOD ON!!!:

75 double unders

KBS (1.5/2POOD)/Burpees


75 double unders


4 max rounds of pull ups because your grip will be AWESOME by then 

*******TIP OF THE DAY***********

Have I already don’t the crock pot oatmeal tip? If I have eff off read it again.

In a crock pot measure out ¼ a cup of steel cut oats for each day of the week.  Add Chia seeds and water (twice as much water as content) and crock on high until done, portion into 7 tupper-ware containers and put in the fridge…BOOM breakfast for the week was made in 45 minutes.  You’re welcome.