The second day of vacation; what an oxymoron.
I received a voice mail (sent on Saturday, saw it after Sunday Mass) from a good friend, it hit the spot.
It was what I needed to move on.
You see I have “retired”, sort of, haven’t really thought of LAW (Life After Work).
I know there is because others have done it and quite successfully.
I on the other hand have worked since I was six years old, started delivering papers followed by other jobs to numerous to count; I have loved it.
It gave me a routine, a standard approach to each day and coins in the pocket.
Now I am rudderless so to speak and I need to find the “wind” again.
I was looking for a gale but would settle for a breeze until I got the voice mail.
There is something out there I need to do.
It was re-emphasized, plainly, matter of fact, without presumption.
It is time to get to work and finish on a high note.
This was further brought home during my evening exercise routine.
I was one of three people in the gym and I was going to do chest and back.
I decided to do ten clean dumbbell bench presses, full range, no short throws.
Sparta would approve of this plan; I think.
I picked the seventy fives and started for the bench when a younger man came over and said, “You are going to hurt yourself, here let me help”.
I assured him I was going to be OK and did ten clean presses as he anxiously watched just over my head.
“How do you do that”, he asked?
“Two years of weight lifting, a trainer and a desire to keep getting better”.
The next step may be difficult, it may mean a change, it may mean re-learning, humiliation, struggle; but I want it.
The oxymoron, “How do you have a vacation when you no longer have to answer to a clock”?
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Saturday, June 12, 2010
If You Are Watching Calories, Better Wear Your Glasses
I have been playing a “game” with food and calories.
How much of a certain kind of vegetable, legume or other types of non-dairy, non-meat products can one eat and tolerate.
I have been buying a large variety of such foods.
One sweet potato; weighs about one pound; I guarantee you can’t eat the whole thing after microwaving to a “mashed” consistency.
The more you eat, the more it seems there is, until I finally gave up after about 30 minutes and still had at least half left.
Brussels Sprouts, I topped out at about 35 in one sitting. The GI tract kept growling most of the night. I must say though that 35 sprouts does quench the appetite.
Pickled Beets, one jar, about 100 calories; that jar lasts at least three meals. It is really tough to eat 100 calories of beets in one sitting.
Asparagus, I have not found my limit except I know I begin to smell even after a few stalks.
Macaroni and Cheese, hey that isn’t a vegetable but there is no limit.
My worst Faux Pa, Black Beans.
I decided the other night to eat a whole can of black beans.
What the heck, 100 calories, lots of fiber, no carbs.
I tell Sparta and immediately she starts laughing.
“I would guess that is 100 calories per serving.".
"I think it was 100 calories per can".
“Guess again, Dr. Nutrition”.
I hurry home, about 500 calories per can, fooled by fuzzy vision and Urban Legend.
Everyone knows beans are "super food".
Yeah, another lesson, more ain't always better and read the labels carefully.
How much of a certain kind of vegetable, legume or other types of non-dairy, non-meat products can one eat and tolerate.
I have been buying a large variety of such foods.
One sweet potato; weighs about one pound; I guarantee you can’t eat the whole thing after microwaving to a “mashed” consistency.
The more you eat, the more it seems there is, until I finally gave up after about 30 minutes and still had at least half left.
Brussels Sprouts, I topped out at about 35 in one sitting. The GI tract kept growling most of the night. I must say though that 35 sprouts does quench the appetite.
Pickled Beets, one jar, about 100 calories; that jar lasts at least three meals. It is really tough to eat 100 calories of beets in one sitting.
Asparagus, I have not found my limit except I know I begin to smell even after a few stalks.
Macaroni and Cheese, hey that isn’t a vegetable but there is no limit.
My worst Faux Pa, Black Beans.
I decided the other night to eat a whole can of black beans.
What the heck, 100 calories, lots of fiber, no carbs.
I tell Sparta and immediately she starts laughing.
“I would guess that is 100 calories per serving.".
"I think it was 100 calories per can".
“Guess again, Dr. Nutrition”.
I hurry home, about 500 calories per can, fooled by fuzzy vision and Urban Legend.
Everyone knows beans are "super food".
Yeah, another lesson, more ain't always better and read the labels carefully.
A Little Remembrance
“He’s scrappy”, I heard my Dad tell the headmaster.
He may have said crappy, but I hope not.
Four feet eight inches tall, eighty-nine pounds; I thought I was a giant.
Boarding school taught me a whole new lesson about giants.
You may have a heart of a giant but eighty-nine pounds is no match for one hundred and forty to two hundred pound kids.
There was no room on the basketball court, there was little if any room on the football team, track was the only option and the 660 meters was my given distance plus the high jump. I wasn’t very good at either.
I had a good number of black eyes, bloody noses but like a true giant, laughed a lot.
I also spent a lot of time “hiding” in the gym.
Jimmy Howard, African American, easy smile, spent most of his time in the gym
He was always lifting, exercising.
He was about six feet tall, one hundred and eighty pounds and could bench press between five and six hundred pounds. ( I asked my brother and this is how he remembered it).
I don’t know why, I have tried to find him over the years to ask the question, but he took an interest in me and started teaching me his method of weight lifting, work on the parallel bars, the rings, the Peg Board along with the rope climb.
He also stressed sit-ups and chin-ups.
It was a simple time.
It was a good time.
I would wish it for every child growing up in this new technologic world.
I am trying to get that time back.
I am still kind of scrappy or crappy, you will have to ask Sparta.
Oh, and the next time I lift 500 pounds; it will be to pay a hotel bill in England.
He may have said crappy, but I hope not.
Four feet eight inches tall, eighty-nine pounds; I thought I was a giant.
Boarding school taught me a whole new lesson about giants.
You may have a heart of a giant but eighty-nine pounds is no match for one hundred and forty to two hundred pound kids.
There was no room on the basketball court, there was little if any room on the football team, track was the only option and the 660 meters was my given distance plus the high jump. I wasn’t very good at either.
I had a good number of black eyes, bloody noses but like a true giant, laughed a lot.
I also spent a lot of time “hiding” in the gym.
Jimmy Howard, African American, easy smile, spent most of his time in the gym
He was always lifting, exercising.
He was about six feet tall, one hundred and eighty pounds and could bench press between five and six hundred pounds. ( I asked my brother and this is how he remembered it).
I don’t know why, I have tried to find him over the years to ask the question, but he took an interest in me and started teaching me his method of weight lifting, work on the parallel bars, the rings, the Peg Board along with the rope climb.
He also stressed sit-ups and chin-ups.
It was a simple time.
It was a good time.
I would wish it for every child growing up in this new technologic world.
I am trying to get that time back.
I am still kind of scrappy or crappy, you will have to ask Sparta.
Oh, and the next time I lift 500 pounds; it will be to pay a hotel bill in England.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Sometimes It Is Hard To Go To The Gym
Last night as I was pulling on the exercise clothes, for a fraction of a second, I wanted to stay home and have a big slice of roast beef, meatloaf or both along with mashed potatoes-gravy, warm biscuits with dark cinnamon flavored apple butter, sweat yams covered in melted marsh mellows, a deep brewed dark African coffee with a glass of red Merlot all followed by peach cobbler, warm, with a dollop of vanilla ice cream decorating the top.
I could almost smell the food being served in the dining room.
I imagined sitting down afterward, unwrapping a cigar and having a Sherry in a mahogany paneled room while a piano plays in another room, “Improv Jazz”, not too loud instead mellow and soothing.
Is this “heaven”?
It felt more like “sin”, forbidden but alluring.
Then the still damp, cold, constricting Under Armor snapped me out of the reverie and back to the reality of the routine, exercise, a protein shake, cold beets, a few blueberries and Green Tea.
Occasionally a veggie burger or hard boiled egg replaces the beets.
Tuna from a can or bag is a real treat when mixed with hot and chunky salsa
It is all about choices, calories, intake.
I guess I miss the bread more than anything but that is one major step on the road to perdition.
The Cigar, just a prop from days gone by.
At least the Jazz doesn’t have any excess calories.
I collect my gear.
I will soon be riding in spin class, boxing in Boot Camp or lifting in the weight room.
I watch as I head down the steps careful not to slip on any of those “mashed potatoes” or “candied yams” but I do wonder if those rolls were whole-grain.
I could almost smell the food being served in the dining room.
I imagined sitting down afterward, unwrapping a cigar and having a Sherry in a mahogany paneled room while a piano plays in another room, “Improv Jazz”, not too loud instead mellow and soothing.
Is this “heaven”?
It felt more like “sin”, forbidden but alluring.
Then the still damp, cold, constricting Under Armor snapped me out of the reverie and back to the reality of the routine, exercise, a protein shake, cold beets, a few blueberries and Green Tea.
Occasionally a veggie burger or hard boiled egg replaces the beets.
Tuna from a can or bag is a real treat when mixed with hot and chunky salsa
It is all about choices, calories, intake.
I guess I miss the bread more than anything but that is one major step on the road to perdition.
The Cigar, just a prop from days gone by.
At least the Jazz doesn’t have any excess calories.
I collect my gear.
I will soon be riding in spin class, boxing in Boot Camp or lifting in the weight room.
I watch as I head down the steps careful not to slip on any of those “mashed potatoes” or “candied yams” but I do wonder if those rolls were whole-grain.
Friday, May 28, 2010
WOO HOO
“Woo Hoo”, often erupts during Boot Camp like the blare of a trumpet.
I don’t know where she comes from, her goal, “I just want to have fun”.
Sounds like a California type thing.
You know, California girls, Valley girls, just wanting to have fun, Beach Blanket Bingo, Frankie Avalon, the Beach Boys.
But “Woo Hoo” is not really Valspeak (Valley Speak) but instead a phrase more recently popularized by Homer Simpson.
The Urban Dictionary defines “Woo Hoo”: (A word used when you are overly excited, hyper, having fun, or when something great happened to you. You can also use this word repeatedly when you are bored and want to annoy someone as an expression of excitement meant to annoy.)
“Woo’ Hoo” is defined by the internet free dictionary as a sailfish.
“Woo Hoo” the song, was recorded by the band, Rock-A-Teens, in 1959.
“Woo Hoo” the song, has been featured in such films as Kill Bill Vol.1 and Glory Road.
The French psycho-billy band Le Wampas featured the song under the title “ye ye punk”.
Chevrolet used “Woo Hoo” in the ads for the Chevy Cobalt, and to think, we bailed them out.
If you change the spelling slightly to Wu Hu, you are then referring to a nomadic Chinese tribe that lived from the 4th to 5th century AD.
It was Tex Avery who created the original version of Daffy Duck in 1937. Daffy established his status by jumping into the water, hopping around, and yelling, "Woo-hoo! Woo-hoo! Woo-hoo! Hoo-hoo! Woo-hoo!".
So where does that leave “Woo Hoo/Wu Hu” in Boot Camp?
An ancient Chinese Nomad just passing through, a fan of Daffy Duck, Homer Simpson, Kill Bill Vol. 1, possibly a seafood fanatic or an owner of the Cobalt, your guess is as good as mine.
“Twenty-five jump squats and now”, is where it leaves the group when too many “Woo Hoos” fill the air.
I guess it has been good for my quads but standing too close, it does seem to find its way into the deeper recesses of the brain and occasionally “jiggles” the hind brain.
In Freudian Theory the thoughts and desires banished to the unconscious mind motivate the behavior of the conscious mind.
So be careful when you “jiggle” the hind brain or you may release a Hyde from a Jekyll.
And boy, do Hyde’s ever love jump squats.
I don’t know where she comes from, her goal, “I just want to have fun”.
Sounds like a California type thing.
You know, California girls, Valley girls, just wanting to have fun, Beach Blanket Bingo, Frankie Avalon, the Beach Boys.
But “Woo Hoo” is not really Valspeak (Valley Speak) but instead a phrase more recently popularized by Homer Simpson.
The Urban Dictionary defines “Woo Hoo”: (A word used when you are overly excited, hyper, having fun, or when something great happened to you. You can also use this word repeatedly when you are bored and want to annoy someone as an expression of excitement meant to annoy.)
“Woo’ Hoo” is defined by the internet free dictionary as a sailfish.
“Woo Hoo” the song, was recorded by the band, Rock-A-Teens, in 1959.
“Woo Hoo” the song, has been featured in such films as Kill Bill Vol.1 and Glory Road.
The French psycho-billy band Le Wampas featured the song under the title “ye ye punk”.
Chevrolet used “Woo Hoo” in the ads for the Chevy Cobalt, and to think, we bailed them out.
If you change the spelling slightly to Wu Hu, you are then referring to a nomadic Chinese tribe that lived from the 4th to 5th century AD.
It was Tex Avery who created the original version of Daffy Duck in 1937. Daffy established his status by jumping into the water, hopping around, and yelling, "Woo-hoo! Woo-hoo! Woo-hoo! Hoo-hoo! Woo-hoo!".
So where does that leave “Woo Hoo/Wu Hu” in Boot Camp?
An ancient Chinese Nomad just passing through, a fan of Daffy Duck, Homer Simpson, Kill Bill Vol. 1, possibly a seafood fanatic or an owner of the Cobalt, your guess is as good as mine.
“Twenty-five jump squats and now”, is where it leaves the group when too many “Woo Hoos” fill the air.
I guess it has been good for my quads but standing too close, it does seem to find its way into the deeper recesses of the brain and occasionally “jiggles” the hind brain.
In Freudian Theory the thoughts and desires banished to the unconscious mind motivate the behavior of the conscious mind.
So be careful when you “jiggle” the hind brain or you may release a Hyde from a Jekyll.
And boy, do Hyde’s ever love jump squats.
What Time Is It
“What time are you going to the gym tonight”?
“5:30 P.M., tonight is spin, I am going to try to get a bike”; “I think I will stay and lift after the class or maybe even lift before spin if I get there in time”.
“Well I won’t be home until later, most likely 8:00 P.M. or so”.
“There are more "black bean" burgers in the freezer”.
“I might just get a protein shake”.
“What time is it”?
“5:00 A.M., I’m off to spin and get strong”.
“Have a good one; you should spin in the evening or on the weekend one of these days with me”.
“As soon as I get comfortable with this whole bike thing, I will”.
“What time is it”?
“It’s about 8:30 P.M.”.
“Did you spin tonight or just work out”?
“Both”.
“Well I am going to bed as I am really tired”.
“I will be right behind you”.
“What time is it”?
“Looks like 2:45 A.M.”.
“Are you having trouble sleeping”?
“Yeah, I think I have too much energy to fall asleep”.
“Well don’t get any ideas, I have to spin in the morning”.
“Well that’s a new spin on an old story”.
“What time is it”?
“4:45 A.M., guess I will go ahead and get up and get to the gym early to spin”.
I think to myself sometime later, “What time is it”, as I roll over and look at the clock, 5:24 A.M.
“Might as well get up and start this day”.
“What time is that luncheon”?
Note to wife, call me and let me know, “What time is the luncheon”?
“Are they serving something I can eat”?
“Just quit complaining and go with the vegetables”.
“What time is it”?
“I think it is, uuuh, it looks like 1:45 A.M.”.
“Why are we talking at 1:45 A.M.”?
“Guess, because we can’t sleep”.
“Is the gym open”?
“Yeah I think the one in Newburgh is open”?
“Want to go spin”?
“I thought you would never ask”.
“We can eat the leftover sprouts on the way”.
“5:30 P.M., tonight is spin, I am going to try to get a bike”; “I think I will stay and lift after the class or maybe even lift before spin if I get there in time”.
“Well I won’t be home until later, most likely 8:00 P.M. or so”.
“There are more "black bean" burgers in the freezer”.
“I might just get a protein shake”.
“What time is it”?
“5:00 A.M., I’m off to spin and get strong”.
“Have a good one; you should spin in the evening or on the weekend one of these days with me”.
“As soon as I get comfortable with this whole bike thing, I will”.
“What time is it”?
“It’s about 8:30 P.M.”.
“Did you spin tonight or just work out”?
“Both”.
“Well I am going to bed as I am really tired”.
“I will be right behind you”.
“What time is it”?
“Looks like 2:45 A.M.”.
“Are you having trouble sleeping”?
“Yeah, I think I have too much energy to fall asleep”.
“Well don’t get any ideas, I have to spin in the morning”.
“Well that’s a new spin on an old story”.
“What time is it”?
“4:45 A.M., guess I will go ahead and get up and get to the gym early to spin”.
I think to myself sometime later, “What time is it”, as I roll over and look at the clock, 5:24 A.M.
“Might as well get up and start this day”.
“What time is that luncheon”?
Note to wife, call me and let me know, “What time is the luncheon”?
“Are they serving something I can eat”?
“Just quit complaining and go with the vegetables”.
“What time is it”?
“I think it is, uuuh, it looks like 1:45 A.M.”.
“Why are we talking at 1:45 A.M.”?
“Guess, because we can’t sleep”.
“Is the gym open”?
“Yeah I think the one in Newburgh is open”?
“Want to go spin”?
“I thought you would never ask”.
“We can eat the leftover sprouts on the way”.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
“Hyper-formance”
There are in this world a group of people I refer to as High Performance people, people with the characteristic of “hyper-formance”.
These are the individuals that push the limits of human endurance, strength and tenacity; the hyper-milers, the cyclists, soccer players, Iron Men/Women, gymnasts, the strong men, those that would attempt the Ultimate Triathlon;
(Swim the English Channel, cycle the Tour de France, run the Marathon des Sables, all in sequence).
As of this writing I don’t know if the above is a recognized triathlon but each leg does exist and one individual did try to accomplish this very daunting task, Mr. Chris Pountney (2007-2009; Search Ultimate Triathlon).
The challenge,
(The Marathon des Sables is a 240-km foot-race across the Sahara desert in which competitors must carry all food and kit. It is often described as 'the toughest foot-race on earth.'
The Tour de France is a 3,000km, 3-week bike race through Western Europe which even many elite riders are happy just to finish. The route changes each year but always takes in some intense climbs through the mountains.
Swimming the English Channel is an incredibly difficult 35-km swim in cold water which takes months of daily training to prepare for, and on average 14 hours to swim. It is regarded as the pinnacle of open water swimming.)
These are amazing people with amazing endurance and some of these “hyper-formance” people train at the local gyms in our fair city.
One, arrives early every day, stays late, trains people, exercises with the power lifters, leads Spin Classes, supervises and participates in Boot Camp, choreographs Power Pump and somewhere in all of this attends to the activities of daily life and family.
A few of the die-hard “Boot Campers” attend two sessions of Camp on the same day interspersing lifting or Power Pump between the Camps. These same people attend multiple Spin Classes and find time to put in several hours or miles on the treadmill many times a week while holding down jobs, raising children and even cutting the grass.
Others spend hours a week, like “Superman” or the “bench presser” (looking to best a 400+ pound bench press), both training for upcoming competitions.
The power lifters squat with bars loaded at 400 to 600 pounds.
Dumbbells flys with 100 pound weights are not uncommon.
The early risers, “the 5:00A.M.club”, that gather three time a week for aerobics and strength training also gets a big nod (my wife can be counted in this group) because I am sure that even my blood pressure is not up at 5:00A.M.
The doctor in me wants to measure the aerobic capacity and study each of these people but if I instead accept them as role models, given time and a lot of sweat equity, I may yet achieve “hyper-formance” and discover my own Ultimate Challenge or extreme limit.
Has anyone ever Circum-Polared the globe on a bicycle or survived on a fiber bar a day?
These are the individuals that push the limits of human endurance, strength and tenacity; the hyper-milers, the cyclists, soccer players, Iron Men/Women, gymnasts, the strong men, those that would attempt the Ultimate Triathlon;
(Swim the English Channel, cycle the Tour de France, run the Marathon des Sables, all in sequence).
As of this writing I don’t know if the above is a recognized triathlon but each leg does exist and one individual did try to accomplish this very daunting task, Mr. Chris Pountney (2007-2009; Search Ultimate Triathlon).
The challenge,
(The Marathon des Sables is a 240-km foot-race across the Sahara desert in which competitors must carry all food and kit. It is often described as 'the toughest foot-race on earth.'
The Tour de France is a 3,000km, 3-week bike race through Western Europe which even many elite riders are happy just to finish. The route changes each year but always takes in some intense climbs through the mountains.
Swimming the English Channel is an incredibly difficult 35-km swim in cold water which takes months of daily training to prepare for, and on average 14 hours to swim. It is regarded as the pinnacle of open water swimming.)
These are amazing people with amazing endurance and some of these “hyper-formance” people train at the local gyms in our fair city.
One, arrives early every day, stays late, trains people, exercises with the power lifters, leads Spin Classes, supervises and participates in Boot Camp, choreographs Power Pump and somewhere in all of this attends to the activities of daily life and family.
A few of the die-hard “Boot Campers” attend two sessions of Camp on the same day interspersing lifting or Power Pump between the Camps. These same people attend multiple Spin Classes and find time to put in several hours or miles on the treadmill many times a week while holding down jobs, raising children and even cutting the grass.
Others spend hours a week, like “Superman” or the “bench presser” (looking to best a 400+ pound bench press), both training for upcoming competitions.
The power lifters squat with bars loaded at 400 to 600 pounds.
Dumbbells flys with 100 pound weights are not uncommon.
The early risers, “the 5:00A.M.club”, that gather three time a week for aerobics and strength training also gets a big nod (my wife can be counted in this group) because I am sure that even my blood pressure is not up at 5:00A.M.
The doctor in me wants to measure the aerobic capacity and study each of these people but if I instead accept them as role models, given time and a lot of sweat equity, I may yet achieve “hyper-formance” and discover my own Ultimate Challenge or extreme limit.
Has anyone ever Circum-Polared the globe on a bicycle or survived on a fiber bar a day?
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