Tuesday, May 3, 2016

My training; sharing light and conversations

(The header on the blog should probably change to "I'm basically weird as £¥@> with pretty weird @ss opinions, hang in there."  Shit happens when you study Hunter Thompson, Dennis Rodman and Jim Morrison at a young age.  That's basically my asterisk on most things I say and write.  Fortunately for football, those pretty blue and white helmets in State College, PA and the coach w rolled up khakis and coke bottle glasses... Things stayed within "balance," and by balance, I mean it can swing reeeeeaally far one way and reeeeeeaally far the other way. 


"Hey moron! How about something about fitness!"

I rarely write about my own actual training.  Not entirely sure why, but mostly I feel like a dick.  "Hey i can lift a bunch of..." but maybe it's relevant.  And sometimes people wonder if I actually do workout... That might be saying something. 
Well yes, I do.  Historically, I've really tried to get into everything.  I definitely still believe balance is best and most healthy and you should run, lift, yoga, sprint, kettles, all that and then some.  But this year, especially recently, I truly don't care to do anything other than lift the heaviest damn weights in the gym.  
The biggest pain in my ass is loading the leg press.  A) it really sucks trying to track down 18-20+ 45lb plates and B) I hate loading them.  I've actually considered hiring a personal trainer for leg day just because I don't want to lose the plates, how's that for lazy. Second biggest pain in my ass is kicking up Dumbbells for shoulder press.  Anything over 75's just sucks.  I also thought about a trainer for this as well, just someone to hand me the 100's would be super useful. 
(I'm kinda writing this funny, but I actually have these thoughts in the gym.)
Back and rows, I pick a weight and add 20lbs every round until I'm using the entire stack. Super meat head and I don't care. Repping 200 for 15 reps on the lat pull feels pretty sweet.
Chest work, because I'm an idiot and attempted to "power lift," I hurt my rotator cuff because the form is ridiculous. I knew better, but my fat kid ego said "435lb bench isn't that hard," and now I have pain at a certain depth. Dummy. For the record, it wasn't very long for me to get over 400.... But that's probably also why I'm hurt. Flip side, I don't really care much because I suck at caring and training myself. So for chest, I fatigue my chest w tons of chest flies before touching a bar.  Probably 6-10 sets of fly variety to really torch it.  The goal is to make 225lbs feel like 500, then I don't have to sit there for 45 minutes repping til my hands fall asleep. 
Legs... As I said, screw the leg press.  Squats and deadlifts... Welp, back to me being a dumbass. About 75% I tweaked something in my knee, possible mcl. Nothing constant, or too intense, but enough to scare me into not being a complete idiot. The last thing I want is a surgery so if this means I'm turning into a pro power walker, so be it. 
Cardio... See knee notes above.  I do try to hit the prowler 1-2 per week just to crush the lungs and heart rate... Love that thing. 270lbs loaded up, a decent 60 foot (maybe?) sprint and your lungs are on fire.  6-10 of those and you'll be looking for a trash can or a dial a friend for cpr.
Another downside to my meat headed-ness?  Almost no t-shirts fit, only one dress shirt fits, and I've split 2 pairs of khakis in the ass and one pair of jeans right up the thigh, Incredible Hulk style.  I sat down, heard it and went NOT AGAIN, and looked at my crotch... But no rip.  I assumed my ass, found a mirror... No rip. I heard it!  Where is it? Literally right up the front of the thighs... Jeans.  Idiot. 
What have I learned?  I learned that I'm finally enjoying just lifting and not worrying about x result.  Maybe I've gotten biggie than I'd liked and my goal of 225 has taken a back seat (gained 15 actually), I don't care.  I really enjoy lifting the biggest Dumbbells available.  


I had a conversation recently.... And as it was going, I wanted to say "do you mind if I write about this?" But i don't want people thinking anything they say to me could end up here.... Truuuuuuuust me, I hear some crazy shit 😉... No seriously.. Crazy shit. Especially with election talking heating up.  Craaaaazzy shit. 
Anyway, this was a former client/athlete/etc., and they were slipping, confused, lacking motivation, just treading water. We text. I asked about goals, they were scattered.  They are floating out there but no plan, just there.
I asked what they do w time.  No real productive answer... Again, just there.  
It got to the point where my questions and persistence was riding them hard.  I could feel it, they started responding different, shutting down a bit, almost like my asking about goals was a personal attack.  Which was fine w me.  If asking about our goals feels like an attack, that says something about how you feel about your goals, not me asking.  Think about it. 
So I lightened up and shared my perspective. This was a few weeks so I'm paraphrasing as best as I can remember, but I said something along the lines of - 
I get nothing from you. You don't pay me, there's no physical reward i receive from seeing you become successful and make it, right?  We may never cross paths and have contact again. So understand, the only thing I get, my reward in life, is knowing I did something to spark a little light inside you. That's it.  I may never actually see it shine. I may never know if you did anything with it. But I need to know I tried to spark it. I need to leave this conversation knowing I tried to help you see the spark. You know you're talented, you have vision, you have drive, you have the potential... You just need the light to see the path. - 

I've talked about yoga, meditation, fitness, reading, float tanks, fringe therapies, outlier therapies and concepts, a bunch of wild things, right? (Buy me a few beers and I really start talking).  
A problem we all can suffer from to some extent is "life."  This life.  We get caught  up in the momentum of "this is my life now," and lose that voice that whispers the entrepreneurial idea we used to day dream about and scribble drawings of on napkins in coffee shops.  We go "I have bills and debt now, so" blah blah blahdy blah and throw water on the fire, the light.  It's like the camp fire man.... It's still smoking... There's still some hot coals in there.  If there's a light, if there's still some heat, if there's still a pulse.... Light it up. 

It's so weird for me... I'm xx years old, still not 100% sure what type of resume skills i have, but there's one thing i can really, really do well. Talk you into doing that thing you've been wanting to do that you've been putting off.  And I mean what I said. There's no money here for me, I don't stick around long enough to be in the equation, if it was even a thought. I truly just want to enjoy being a part of kindling, the match.  The fire is yours.

This Is Blue Chip