Old men don’t do dips. Not enough musculature in the shoulder.
You’ll rip your shoulders out of joint.
Just like “Ralphie” and the BB gun; you’ll shoot your eye out!
But say it isn’t so.
Not total dips mind you, but three quarter dips, two sets of 10 followed by a third set of six.
On to the chin up.
Finally last night one chin up from a straight arm position with no extra kick or help.
Just one smooth chip up from full arm extension.
Not two or ten, just one, a small start, 204 pounds from ground to chin over bar.
On the way out, I asked the attendant her favorite protein drink, a "Carliss".
So I treated myself to a “Carliss”, 40 grams of protein, peanut butter, honey all blended into an ice cold “chocolate shake”.
I felt I had actually earned it.
What will I be able to do at 164 pounds and two more years of exercise?
Two more years, how do I know I will last that long, you might ask?
I don’t but right now I am planning on two more years of really hard exercise and committed weight loss.
If I go to the gym every night for 730 days the two years will pass before you know it.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
A “Bucket” List
I loved the movie.
I guess each of us develops a Bucket List in our minds but very few have the luxury of fulfilling the “dreams”.
Seems life, reality and excuses intervene.
So now I am sixty plus and I have begun to review my Bucket List.
I have been working on it for a number of years.
I thought, put it out there and see how it plays to the public.
A lot of my list had been put on hold due to work, age and intervening detours but most might be accomplished and I am now actively pursuing parts of it.
1. I want to weigh 164 pounds for at least 3 consecutive years. I don’t want to weigh 164 pounds for a day or two as I pass through that weight on the way out. Why 164 pounds? This would be close to my ideal weight and I have not been there for at least 44 years. I believe I can do this. I just haven’t found the “won’t” power I need to leave all the snacks behind.
2. I want to be able to bench press 325 pounds. My rationale: It has often been stated that one should be able to bench press two times your weight. I am sure that this is really aimed at the under 30 crowd but I have this goal and it will be interesting to see if it is possible or if I “crash” first at about 180 pounds with the ultimate “Skull Crusher”.
3. I want to do an Iron Cross: Definition: “One of the most widely recognized skills performed on the rings is the Iron Cross, which is executed by extending both arms straight out from the sides of the body while suspended mid air for at least two seconds.” I could do this in my youth and it seemed so simple then but a lot of “fat” has gone under the bridge. I am urged on when I watch the Circ Du Soleil and the performance of the gymnasts. Surely I can do this without ripping my arms out of their sockets. Some have suggested that I will rip my arms out of their sockets. This will be quite a bet and a surprise, possibly.
I have a trainer, not just a trainer, but “THE TRAINER”
I will get there.
To be continued.
I guess each of us develops a Bucket List in our minds but very few have the luxury of fulfilling the “dreams”.
Seems life, reality and excuses intervene.
So now I am sixty plus and I have begun to review my Bucket List.
I have been working on it for a number of years.
I thought, put it out there and see how it plays to the public.
A lot of my list had been put on hold due to work, age and intervening detours but most might be accomplished and I am now actively pursuing parts of it.
1. I want to weigh 164 pounds for at least 3 consecutive years. I don’t want to weigh 164 pounds for a day or two as I pass through that weight on the way out. Why 164 pounds? This would be close to my ideal weight and I have not been there for at least 44 years. I believe I can do this. I just haven’t found the “won’t” power I need to leave all the snacks behind.
2. I want to be able to bench press 325 pounds. My rationale: It has often been stated that one should be able to bench press two times your weight. I am sure that this is really aimed at the under 30 crowd but I have this goal and it will be interesting to see if it is possible or if I “crash” first at about 180 pounds with the ultimate “Skull Crusher”.
3. I want to do an Iron Cross: Definition: “One of the most widely recognized skills performed on the rings is the Iron Cross, which is executed by extending both arms straight out from the sides of the body while suspended mid air for at least two seconds.” I could do this in my youth and it seemed so simple then but a lot of “fat” has gone under the bridge. I am urged on when I watch the Circ Du Soleil and the performance of the gymnasts. Surely I can do this without ripping my arms out of their sockets. Some have suggested that I will rip my arms out of their sockets. This will be quite a bet and a surprise, possibly.
I have a trainer, not just a trainer, but “THE TRAINER”
I will get there.
To be continued.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
What’s In A Mussel/Muscle
I missed three days in the Gym.
I was in Baltimore with my wife visiting our granddaughter to help celebrate her fourth birthday.
It was a great time. We were able to visit the National Aquarium, take a dragon boat ride on Chesapeake Bay, see the Circus and stop in a little waterside Café for lunch.
My muscles weren’t aching.
I ordered a glass of wine, a real extravagance in the early afternoon and the steamed Mussels for lunch.
I heard the phrase echo in my mind as I ordered the Mussels, “old men don’t grow new muscles”.
Was I subconsciously hoping to eat Mussels/muscles?
My wife noticed the choice.
“That is an unusual entrée. I didn’t think you liked saffron and those Mussels are swimming in saffron.”
“Yeah, well I have become a big lover of saffron”, I lied.
Actually I hadn’t even noticed that the Mussels were “swimming” as I read the menu.
I had just noticed Mussels and had also noticed that my muscles weren’t aching for the first time in months.
Somewhere deep in my brain Mussels and muscles became interchangeable as neurons fired and remembered pasts fused into new thought.
“Well how are the Mussels”, she asked.
“Really quite good”, I replied as I pulled a truculent steamed Mussel from it's death’s grip anchor on the shell and tried to chew past the grit and sand.
“Really quite good”, I said again, trying to convince myself as much as her.
“Boy they gave you quite an order, I would say only 25 to 30 to go” she said laughing.
Was she reading my mind and casting out a challenge, “bet you can’t eat all of those”?
“I hope it is enough”, I said with extra emphasis. “I have been thinking of Mussels every since the restaurant that had fresh Mussels closed”. “They are a good source of low fat protein”, I said vindicating my choice.
“Well Bona Petit” she said and went back to her Lemon Crusted Salmon.
I did finish the Mussels (took over an hour) as I imagined I could feel all that healthy protein streaming into my muscles to replace and repair those which were ripped and torn by prior weeks of ongoing exercise while the sand coated my teeth and intestines.
“I think I’ll have the Lemon Crusted Salmon next time”, I said to no one in particular as we got up to leave, “they say it has lots of Omega-3 oil and that’s supposed to be really good for you also.”
“Yeah and you don’t have to eat a lot of sand”, she said to no one in particular.
I was in Baltimore with my wife visiting our granddaughter to help celebrate her fourth birthday.
It was a great time. We were able to visit the National Aquarium, take a dragon boat ride on Chesapeake Bay, see the Circus and stop in a little waterside Café for lunch.
My muscles weren’t aching.
I ordered a glass of wine, a real extravagance in the early afternoon and the steamed Mussels for lunch.
I heard the phrase echo in my mind as I ordered the Mussels, “old men don’t grow new muscles”.
Was I subconsciously hoping to eat Mussels/muscles?
My wife noticed the choice.
“That is an unusual entrée. I didn’t think you liked saffron and those Mussels are swimming in saffron.”
“Yeah, well I have become a big lover of saffron”, I lied.
Actually I hadn’t even noticed that the Mussels were “swimming” as I read the menu.
I had just noticed Mussels and had also noticed that my muscles weren’t aching for the first time in months.
Somewhere deep in my brain Mussels and muscles became interchangeable as neurons fired and remembered pasts fused into new thought.
“Well how are the Mussels”, she asked.
“Really quite good”, I replied as I pulled a truculent steamed Mussel from it's death’s grip anchor on the shell and tried to chew past the grit and sand.
“Really quite good”, I said again, trying to convince myself as much as her.
“Boy they gave you quite an order, I would say only 25 to 30 to go” she said laughing.
Was she reading my mind and casting out a challenge, “bet you can’t eat all of those”?
“I hope it is enough”, I said with extra emphasis. “I have been thinking of Mussels every since the restaurant that had fresh Mussels closed”. “They are a good source of low fat protein”, I said vindicating my choice.
“Well Bona Petit” she said and went back to her Lemon Crusted Salmon.
I did finish the Mussels (took over an hour) as I imagined I could feel all that healthy protein streaming into my muscles to replace and repair those which were ripped and torn by prior weeks of ongoing exercise while the sand coated my teeth and intestines.
“I think I’ll have the Lemon Crusted Salmon next time”, I said to no one in particular as we got up to leave, “they say it has lots of Omega-3 oil and that’s supposed to be really good for you also.”
“Yeah and you don’t have to eat a lot of sand”, she said to no one in particular.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
“Cheshire Cat”
It is the smile.
The smile is the first thing you see.
Alice in Wonderland met the “Cheshire Cat” as a disembodied smile sitting in the tree.
The first time I saw the “Cheshire Cat” it was much the same, a large smile seemed to enter the gym through the front door.
It was only after she took out the wraps and began preparing for the upcoming training session and spoke a greeting that I realized this was a “Cheshire Cat” as the rest of her came into view.
It is the smile. It is “big” and warm and commands attention.
She is a commuter and drives over 60 miles a day (that is a long commute in Southern Indiana) to the job, the gym, finally reaching home late in the evening.
I believe some days she must feel more like Alice, who asks the “Cheshire Cat”; “which way do I go” with the “Cheshire Cat” responding, “where do you want to go”, and Alice saying, “it really doesn’t matter”, then said the Cheshire Cat “it really makes no difference which way you go”.
So it is not surprising that some days she just doesn’t make it and passes on the group.
Some of the others have said, for a better offer.
But when she shows the “Cheshire Cat” always brings the “Smile”.
The group definitely feels a “little better” on those days.
The smile is the first thing you see.
Alice in Wonderland met the “Cheshire Cat” as a disembodied smile sitting in the tree.
The first time I saw the “Cheshire Cat” it was much the same, a large smile seemed to enter the gym through the front door.
It was only after she took out the wraps and began preparing for the upcoming training session and spoke a greeting that I realized this was a “Cheshire Cat” as the rest of her came into view.
It is the smile. It is “big” and warm and commands attention.
She is a commuter and drives over 60 miles a day (that is a long commute in Southern Indiana) to the job, the gym, finally reaching home late in the evening.
I believe some days she must feel more like Alice, who asks the “Cheshire Cat”; “which way do I go” with the “Cheshire Cat” responding, “where do you want to go”, and Alice saying, “it really doesn’t matter”, then said the Cheshire Cat “it really makes no difference which way you go”.
So it is not surprising that some days she just doesn’t make it and passes on the group.
Some of the others have said, for a better offer.
But when she shows the “Cheshire Cat” always brings the “Smile”.
The group definitely feels a “little better” on those days.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
It’s Gonna Be Fun Tonight
“Listen up, tonight is going to be “Brutal” so if you are going to quit, do it now”.
I think to myself, yeah, yeah, sure: I don’t see anyone walking toward the door.
Actually it feels kind of safe. There are eight in the class tonight.
How bad can it so be?
Eight stations, new people joining tonight, possible recruits, should be fairly straightforward with some stations even allowing a little rest.
But then again, she did say “brutal”.
Maybe I should take her at her word.
So I think; Don’t catch her eye, don’t mess up the rotation, try not to bring attention to yourself , like suddenly dropping dead and we should get through this.
Then she calls out the stations. Five in a row, dedicated to the legs and the big muscles.
I know we are in for a “fun” night.
Running followed by squats, immediately followed by the squat ball press, followed by the jump rope and last but not least the ladder, boy, were we in for some real hurt.
At the end of the session, I couldn’t get up, my legs were shaking and I was sure they wouldn’t hold.
So, to avoid the next obvious move, standing up, I looked up at the trainer (I need to use her nickname) “Sparta” and said in a tone of innocent almost childlike wonder, “Was this a little harder than usual?”
She laughed as she moved toward the door, “I told you-brutal”.
When I managed to get up, change, go to the car and finally sit down at home, I looked up the term brutal.
My vision was correcting as some blood flow had returned to my head so I read the dictionary description aloud:
BRUTAL:
1. Demanding, taxing, exhausting
Not enough I thought, another one read,
2. Harsh, rugged
Still not enough and then finally, an apt description,
3. Savage
That was it. The muscles had been “savaged”.
It felt good to know I could actually get past pain to numbness.
The pain would come later.
I knew I would pay for this outing for several days to come.
But, I also knew I would be back to see what else she had in store.
I think to myself, yeah, yeah, sure: I don’t see anyone walking toward the door.
Actually it feels kind of safe. There are eight in the class tonight.
How bad can it so be?
Eight stations, new people joining tonight, possible recruits, should be fairly straightforward with some stations even allowing a little rest.
But then again, she did say “brutal”.
Maybe I should take her at her word.
So I think; Don’t catch her eye, don’t mess up the rotation, try not to bring attention to yourself , like suddenly dropping dead and we should get through this.
Then she calls out the stations. Five in a row, dedicated to the legs and the big muscles.
I know we are in for a “fun” night.
Running followed by squats, immediately followed by the squat ball press, followed by the jump rope and last but not least the ladder, boy, were we in for some real hurt.
At the end of the session, I couldn’t get up, my legs were shaking and I was sure they wouldn’t hold.
So, to avoid the next obvious move, standing up, I looked up at the trainer (I need to use her nickname) “Sparta” and said in a tone of innocent almost childlike wonder, “Was this a little harder than usual?”
She laughed as she moved toward the door, “I told you-brutal”.
When I managed to get up, change, go to the car and finally sit down at home, I looked up the term brutal.
My vision was correcting as some blood flow had returned to my head so I read the dictionary description aloud:
BRUTAL:
1. Demanding, taxing, exhausting
Not enough I thought, another one read,
2. Harsh, rugged
Still not enough and then finally, an apt description,
3. Savage
That was it. The muscles had been “savaged”.
It felt good to know I could actually get past pain to numbness.
The pain would come later.
I knew I would pay for this outing for several days to come.
But, I also knew I would be back to see what else she had in store.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Transformer (For Janzelle)
She has and is transforming herself, a little at a time.
In many ways she is my hero.
I suspect we have many “vices” in common.
I think we would both admit to not being adverse to “Death by Chocolate”.
She has admitted a desire to “stay home”.
I feel the same way on many days.
Food, more than nutrition, a “forbidden” pleasure.
But here she is, exercising, spinning, running, boxing and becoming something different for the present and the longer future.
I know I will be there because I know she and the others are there and won’t give up or in.
She has amazing speed on the ladder and I watch her, trying to burn the footwork into my mind.
She is fast and I am always relieved to see her running as the timer as I know I will receive an early reprieve from some “painful” station.
She is agile and works the jump rope and the abs with the same easy facility.
She knows herself and sometimes comes in with “both guns blazing” but on other trips takes a sedate almost genteel approach to the hard lessons of the gym.
She transforms the boxing routines into long continuous discussions on whatever she and the trainer talk about and I am amazed at the flow of the interchange, in rhythm with the uppercuts, crosses and jabs.
She recently changed the hard body blows with the heavy bag into a humorous vignette much like, (When Harry Met Sally) that went unappreciated by the majority.
And in a final analysis she has been for me, an object lesson in the “right attitude”.
There is no redemption without effort and pain but occasionally a bar of chocolate helps.
In many ways she is my hero.
I suspect we have many “vices” in common.
I think we would both admit to not being adverse to “Death by Chocolate”.
She has admitted a desire to “stay home”.
I feel the same way on many days.
Food, more than nutrition, a “forbidden” pleasure.
But here she is, exercising, spinning, running, boxing and becoming something different for the present and the longer future.
I know I will be there because I know she and the others are there and won’t give up or in.
She has amazing speed on the ladder and I watch her, trying to burn the footwork into my mind.
She is fast and I am always relieved to see her running as the timer as I know I will receive an early reprieve from some “painful” station.
She is agile and works the jump rope and the abs with the same easy facility.
She knows herself and sometimes comes in with “both guns blazing” but on other trips takes a sedate almost genteel approach to the hard lessons of the gym.
She transforms the boxing routines into long continuous discussions on whatever she and the trainer talk about and I am amazed at the flow of the interchange, in rhythm with the uppercuts, crosses and jabs.
She recently changed the hard body blows with the heavy bag into a humorous vignette much like, (When Harry Met Sally) that went unappreciated by the majority.
And in a final analysis she has been for me, an object lesson in the “right attitude”.
There is no redemption without effort and pain but occasionally a bar of chocolate helps.
Monday, March 9, 2009
And Now for A Commercial (All I Really Need Is A Hug)
I have been at it for some time now and it isn’t getting any easier. In fact I think it is getting harder. Two nights a week Tuesday and Thursday and then Saturday morning I go to Ultimate Training, Wednesday is ballroom dance lesson night and then I try to get to the gym on Monday, Friday, And Sunday to lift weights, do 30 to 45 minutes of cardio and work on my abs.
I would think by now that I would be making some progress but every time I make a little gain on the group, the intensity kicks up, the group moves ahead and I am left sitting on the floor wondering if anyone got the license plate of the truck that ran over me.
This is when I am most vulnerable and think to myself, a very self-indulgent thought, “all I really need is a hug”.
When I was a kid my Mom would always say, “you just need a hug” and the world always seemed to right itself. These hugs were great until I moved to the more open realm of the playground, the ball field and the gymnasium. Hugs in those venues, I knew, would be lethal. Friends, cheerleaders and coaches would dessert you if they knew you were ever thinking “such thoughts”. The name of the game was tough to the end.
So we grew and left hugs behind except possibly for “romantic hugs” which are much different than the hugs of Empathy.
Empathy hugs have been shown to reduce blood pressure, increase trust, and create feelings of well-being as well as “slow things down”. Sure maybe romantic hugs do the same thing, but empathetic hugs are of a much shorter duration or at least should be so they don’t turn into romantic hugs, which could be very embarrassing on a football field
There is also a social movement involving individuals who offer hugs to total strangers in public places. The campaign, in its present form, was started in by an Australian man known only by the pseudonym "Juan Mann".
The hugs are meant to be random selfless acts of kindness performed by a person for the sole purpose of making others feel better. This year (2009) Free Hug Day will take place on Friday February 13 until Saturday February 14, depending on your time zone.
See I told you all I really needed was a hug.
I would think by now that I would be making some progress but every time I make a little gain on the group, the intensity kicks up, the group moves ahead and I am left sitting on the floor wondering if anyone got the license plate of the truck that ran over me.
This is when I am most vulnerable and think to myself, a very self-indulgent thought, “all I really need is a hug”.
When I was a kid my Mom would always say, “you just need a hug” and the world always seemed to right itself. These hugs were great until I moved to the more open realm of the playground, the ball field and the gymnasium. Hugs in those venues, I knew, would be lethal. Friends, cheerleaders and coaches would dessert you if they knew you were ever thinking “such thoughts”. The name of the game was tough to the end.
So we grew and left hugs behind except possibly for “romantic hugs” which are much different than the hugs of Empathy.
Empathy hugs have been shown to reduce blood pressure, increase trust, and create feelings of well-being as well as “slow things down”. Sure maybe romantic hugs do the same thing, but empathetic hugs are of a much shorter duration or at least should be so they don’t turn into romantic hugs, which could be very embarrassing on a football field
There is also a social movement involving individuals who offer hugs to total strangers in public places. The campaign, in its present form, was started in by an Australian man known only by the pseudonym "Juan Mann".
The hugs are meant to be random selfless acts of kindness performed by a person for the sole purpose of making others feel better. This year (2009) Free Hug Day will take place on Friday February 13 until Saturday February 14, depending on your time zone.
See I told you all I really needed was a hug.
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