We're all blue from projection tubes. It is so, so hot in my house right now. I mean NASTY hot. And there are bugs everywhere. This is what Cambodia must be like.
It is so hot that my dog is sleeping IN the toilet. It's so hot my kettlebells went to my Mom's house to chill in the AC. It's so hot. . .well, you get the picture.
RKC II debrief:
It was cool. Lots of familiar faces, lots of camaraderie. Dinner fri, sat, and sun were great, and the training was top-notch. It bummed me out to see some folks not pass the course, but hey, not all girls can do a pull up, and not all humans can do a pistol. What was really cool was the transition from classroom to prac-app. We were given power points by Brett and Kenneth, both followed by immediate application of the skills discussed. Brett's abstract of Gray Cook's functional movement screening was excellent, and the hours we spent testing each other were very, very revealing. ON Friday my pistols SUCKED out loud. And the FMS allowed me to see why I had no pistol skillz. In addition, It is now clear to me why my ankles and hips are always trashed after s few weeks of hard training.
Kenneth's snatch protocols were excellent, though my hands would say different. And when Rif had us on the foam rollers, there were so many groans and cries the auditorium sounded like, well, you get the picture.
Congrats to all! We did great, pass or no-pass (cause no one failed, mind you).
What i would like you all to do is get involved with the Gray Cook methodology, and to attend the next Level II training. Worth every penny. And for those of you who met Kevin Jodrey, are you not still laughing at the stories this guy was telling? Priceless.
20070627
20070621
If you happen to end up in "C" Com-pa-ny, Yo-Ho-Ho and blow the man down
And i"m out. Flight set to depart at 1335. Scored a ride to the airport to avoid the South Eastern PA Transit Authority route. R5 to R1 and then some son. I prefer the comforts of a Chevy Suburban.
Parting gifts for all Y'all: Try these two workouts while I am gone. You will need two bells for both.
"Snake Eyes Man Maker": 2 x kettlebells of same weight.
Place one at each end of a standard 400m track.
Complete as many rounds as possible in 22 minutes.
20 swings of the one arm or hand-to-hand variety, run to other bell at swift pace, :30 two handed Hot Potato. The next two rounds increase the swings to 25 each arm and the Hot Potato to :45 and 1:00, respectively.
And/Or
"Corpsman UP!": Find a football field. Get scared. Two bells of same or different weight. Start at the goal post. Use all 120 yards of the field.
Swing/Squat/Snatch/Lunge or Clean and Press one bell for as total of 10 reps. Dump it and walk the other bell 10 yds out. Perform the same drill/rep scheme you just finished. Dump Your bell. Shuffle back and pick up the other bell. Carry it 10 yards PAST the bell you just dumped. Repeat this sequence as many times as you can in 20-30 minutes. "corpsman up" is what Marines and Sailors shout when they have a man down. You may need a Corpsman if you for all 30 minutes.
And remember: The water you drink today is for tomorrow. Stretch When you feel the urge. Do your homework, and listen to your parents, teachers, and coaches. And in case you didn't know, my shit is off
20070620
I have dined in Hell.
Dateline: 18 June 1100 hours. Grid 3372 E6. PW Athletic Club, West Chester, PA.
Mike and I arrive on the scene full of strength and confidence and undeterred by the 90 degree heat. Whether the gym was air conditioned or not, we were on our way to become better men.
When I registered I did not realize that I was the first one, on the first day. Qualifying is this whole week. And the roster for Thursday and Friday looked stacked. I felt stacked as I strapped on the iPod and loaded up Dropkick Murphy's. Whitey explained the rules and I set out to put this bitch to bed in under 30 minutes. 6 exercises, 300 reps = 25 Pull Ups, 50 dead lifts with 135 pounds, 50 push ups (chest to floor), 50 box jumps at 22", 50 clean and presses each arm with a 35lb dumbbell, and then another 25 pull ups. As the young lad from the gym explained the rules to me I realized that I would not be able to adjust my form to meet the "recommendations" of he and the rest of the staff. For example: On the pull ups you did not have to go to full arm extension on the eccentric portion, nor did you have to really get below 90 degrees at the elbow. The deadlifts did not have to include full hip extension to the point where it could be SEEN, Box jumps and push ups were strict, but when it came to the C&P, they did not really specify what WAS cheating, other than snatching the bell all the way to the top. I train for excellence in execution. Not this high rep get 'er done shite. But hey, we'll see right?
Here is how it went down.
10 Pull Ups, rest :20 Sec.
5 Pull Ups, rest :10 sec.
2 more sets of 5 with less than :30 rest between.
Deadlift 135 lbs., please. I hammered these out in one set. I swing bells. This was no problem. I grinned as 30, 40, 50 reps flew by.
Push Ups 5 sets of 10, got real tough at the end. I mean real tough. Know why? Cause I do all of them PERFECT. They were slow and controlled with no bounce of the chest off the floor and elbows fairly close to the body. Stood up and looked to the Colors for motivation.
Box Jumps. Roughly 7 sets to complete all 50. I think it went 10-5-10-5-5-5-5-5. Short rests between. These came at a point where a lack of wind (Yes, I lacked wind, and that really grinded my gears mate) was the signal for me to start calling upon mental energy. If I was trying to break 20 minutes I would say that my pacing sucked and I was a whiny cream-puff. But I went for 30 minutes, and In retrospect my pacing was excellent. So the images of men in Iraq, Mexican families coming over the border to escape the misfortune of living in Mexico, starving children, Irish potato famine, my Dad's battles with life, and the belly under my shirt that shook in a fashion WAY to similar to a bowl full of Jelly ran through my head to keep me from succumbing to the growing desire to slow myself down and catch some O2. Forget That.
Clean and Pressing a dumbbell is lame. Maybe I say that cause it was hard. Anyway, the rest time I required between sets of 5 on each arm was way too long. I'm sure on the final 4-5 sets I rested close to a minute, and if that is true, then I can break 30 if I want to. Monday, I did not want to.
I actually thought for more than a half of a second that I may not finish this workout. As I cleaned and pressed I looked over at the pull up bar and allowed the burning sensation in my body to convince me that another 25 pull ups was not possible. Then I channeled the ghost of John Henry.
sets of 5-4-3-2, and 1 pull up got me through the final 25. I walked it out for 10 feet and then dropped. Hip flexors smoked and lungs searing like tuna tataki, I looked into the camera and said something lame. Mike went next and crushed my time by at least 7 minutes.
The comp was supposed to go like this: 18-22 June, qualifying rounds for men and women. Best 6 times from each group return on July 14Th to compete in the final. Winner takes 300 bucks. What the gym owner Brian decided to do was not disclose any times, and have ALL the competitors back on 14 July. Announce the best 6 men and women, and then run it from there.
He and the guy who timed my run mentioned that I was welcome back to run again and try to improve my time if I wanted through Friday. I laughed. I have a date with some RKC training this weekend, and would like to have my legs for that excursion, thank you. Both guys said that my form was way to good to break 20 minutes. Controlled cheating and shorter range of motion would have suited me better. I said hey thanks cat, but that's not how Big Will trains.
I hobbled out the door, sporting a sweet PW Athletic Club T-Shirt, and some bruised body parts. Went to 7 Eleven and injected a powerade into my arm. Tuesday I sat for the best massage I've ever had, and today, I sit with hip flexors and hammies tighter than piano wire. I can barely stand without screaming out in agony, and have already thanked myself for setting up such an easy day. Only three sessions today, and one class tonight. It's rainy and cool here. Today I am going to enjoy my injuries, watch a bootlegged copy of 300 on DVD, and listen to The Cure live in Paris while I cruise the web and absorb more data.
This morning, I poured a giant bowl of icy water over my head while I was in an icy cold shower. I howled out and morphed into a hunter from a day where there were no showers, no bowls, no DVDs. I sprang from the bathroom naked as the day I was born, uttered another guttural roar, and then sat down with a cup of coffee cause my hips hurt so bad. OOH RAH.
I'm out.
See you in the funny pages.
Mike and I arrive on the scene full of strength and confidence and undeterred by the 90 degree heat. Whether the gym was air conditioned or not, we were on our way to become better men.
When I registered I did not realize that I was the first one, on the first day. Qualifying is this whole week. And the roster for Thursday and Friday looked stacked. I felt stacked as I strapped on the iPod and loaded up Dropkick Murphy's. Whitey explained the rules and I set out to put this bitch to bed in under 30 minutes. 6 exercises, 300 reps = 25 Pull Ups, 50 dead lifts with 135 pounds, 50 push ups (chest to floor), 50 box jumps at 22", 50 clean and presses each arm with a 35lb dumbbell, and then another 25 pull ups. As the young lad from the gym explained the rules to me I realized that I would not be able to adjust my form to meet the "recommendations" of he and the rest of the staff. For example: On the pull ups you did not have to go to full arm extension on the eccentric portion, nor did you have to really get below 90 degrees at the elbow. The deadlifts did not have to include full hip extension to the point where it could be SEEN, Box jumps and push ups were strict, but when it came to the C&P, they did not really specify what WAS cheating, other than snatching the bell all the way to the top. I train for excellence in execution. Not this high rep get 'er done shite. But hey, we'll see right?
Here is how it went down.
10 Pull Ups, rest :20 Sec.
5 Pull Ups, rest :10 sec.
2 more sets of 5 with less than :30 rest between.
Deadlift 135 lbs., please. I hammered these out in one set. I swing bells. This was no problem. I grinned as 30, 40, 50 reps flew by.
Push Ups 5 sets of 10, got real tough at the end. I mean real tough. Know why? Cause I do all of them PERFECT. They were slow and controlled with no bounce of the chest off the floor and elbows fairly close to the body. Stood up and looked to the Colors for motivation.
Box Jumps. Roughly 7 sets to complete all 50. I think it went 10-5-10-5-5-5-5-5. Short rests between. These came at a point where a lack of wind (Yes, I lacked wind, and that really grinded my gears mate) was the signal for me to start calling upon mental energy. If I was trying to break 20 minutes I would say that my pacing sucked and I was a whiny cream-puff. But I went for 30 minutes, and In retrospect my pacing was excellent. So the images of men in Iraq, Mexican families coming over the border to escape the misfortune of living in Mexico, starving children, Irish potato famine, my Dad's battles with life, and the belly under my shirt that shook in a fashion WAY to similar to a bowl full of Jelly ran through my head to keep me from succumbing to the growing desire to slow myself down and catch some O2. Forget That.
Clean and Pressing a dumbbell is lame. Maybe I say that cause it was hard. Anyway, the rest time I required between sets of 5 on each arm was way too long. I'm sure on the final 4-5 sets I rested close to a minute, and if that is true, then I can break 30 if I want to. Monday, I did not want to.
I actually thought for more than a half of a second that I may not finish this workout. As I cleaned and pressed I looked over at the pull up bar and allowed the burning sensation in my body to convince me that another 25 pull ups was not possible. Then I channeled the ghost of John Henry.
sets of 5-4-3-2, and 1 pull up got me through the final 25. I walked it out for 10 feet and then dropped. Hip flexors smoked and lungs searing like tuna tataki, I looked into the camera and said something lame. Mike went next and crushed my time by at least 7 minutes.
The comp was supposed to go like this: 18-22 June, qualifying rounds for men and women. Best 6 times from each group return on July 14Th to compete in the final. Winner takes 300 bucks. What the gym owner Brian decided to do was not disclose any times, and have ALL the competitors back on 14 July. Announce the best 6 men and women, and then run it from there.
He and the guy who timed my run mentioned that I was welcome back to run again and try to improve my time if I wanted through Friday. I laughed. I have a date with some RKC training this weekend, and would like to have my legs for that excursion, thank you. Both guys said that my form was way to good to break 20 minutes. Controlled cheating and shorter range of motion would have suited me better. I said hey thanks cat, but that's not how Big Will trains.
I hobbled out the door, sporting a sweet PW Athletic Club T-Shirt, and some bruised body parts. Went to 7 Eleven and injected a powerade into my arm. Tuesday I sat for the best massage I've ever had, and today, I sit with hip flexors and hammies tighter than piano wire. I can barely stand without screaming out in agony, and have already thanked myself for setting up such an easy day. Only three sessions today, and one class tonight. It's rainy and cool here. Today I am going to enjoy my injuries, watch a bootlegged copy of 300 on DVD, and listen to The Cure live in Paris while I cruise the web and absorb more data.
This morning, I poured a giant bowl of icy water over my head while I was in an icy cold shower. I howled out and morphed into a hunter from a day where there were no showers, no bowls, no DVDs. I sprang from the bathroom naked as the day I was born, uttered another guttural roar, and then sat down with a cup of coffee cause my hips hurt so bad. OOH RAH.
I'm out.
See you in the funny pages.
20070614
Come on over and do the twist. . . yeah, heh. . . .
I have not touched a bell since Monday night's massacre. My left SI joint is tender, I may have overstretched it. Love you so much it makes me sick, yeah, heh. . .
Ate a jar of peanut butter and a pound of ground beef last night. Add in 6 hamburger buns and a pound of cheese and you have one fat, miserable bastard. Had a bunch of shit today that I never went near. Started something new today that made me tired (I think), and of course this is what'll happen:
I'll leave the House in a few minutes to go teach my two evening classes.
I will come back feeling wide awake and motivated.
I'll be up until very. very late.
And why does that suck? Because tomorrow my first appointment is at 0515 and my day does not end until 1930. I have 11 session tomorrow, more than I have done in a long time. But this fat girl can't complain cause I made my bed and I must sleep in it. Tomorrow may as well start right now.
Ate a jar of peanut butter and a pound of ground beef last night. Add in 6 hamburger buns and a pound of cheese and you have one fat, miserable bastard. Had a bunch of shit today that I never went near. Started something new today that made me tired (I think), and of course this is what'll happen:
I'll leave the House in a few minutes to go teach my two evening classes.
I will come back feeling wide awake and motivated.
I'll be up until very. very late.
And why does that suck? Because tomorrow my first appointment is at 0515 and my day does not end until 1930. I have 11 session tomorrow, more than I have done in a long time. But this fat girl can't complain cause I made my bed and I must sleep in it. Tomorrow may as well start right now.
20070612
Sick Sad Little World part II: The kettlebell strikes back.
I feel like I got beat with baseball bats. Like I was hit by a tractor while crossing the street. Like I opened a closet door and a thousand kettlebells came rolling out and washed over me like the wave of pain. Yesterday I tested myself. Today I pay.
Saturday night was stellar. I represented the Kettlebell in Downtown Philly, an area I rarely travel to, at a friend of a friend's birthday party. Salsa dancing, Don Julio, taxis (I think), tattooed men and women, business cards flying out of my pocket, girls trying to beat me up, bouncers who look just like me, sleeping in my car, Turkey Sausage and egg white sandwiches for breakfast, and Elvis live from MSG June 1970 on the oldies station to get me through the ride home. You can imagine what Sunday morning was like. I got a good nap on, drank about 3 gallons of water, and then rented a fine film titled "Apocalypto". My mate Johnny Boy tells me he made the mistake of watching this movie with his family. He thought it would be a nice story to show the kids. he said he was wrong. I watched it on Sunday and found out why.
Monday, yesterday, I woke up from a good sleep at 0600 and got a swing on. 100 swings and 120 push ups. I was happy to have thrashed myself under the AM sun, and when the afternoon rolled around and my 2030 training session cancelled due to illness, I took the chance to punish myself, along with my class, with a little "300" action.
That is, the 300 Workout, modified, as set forth by "P W IRON CLUB" in West Chester, PA. Homeboy Mike and I are testing to qualify in this workout next Monday at 1100. Finals are 14 July.
25 Pull Ups
50 Dead lifts with 135 lbs.
50 Floor Wipers
50 Push ups
50 Box Jumps at 24" high
50 Clean and presses each arm with a 35 lb. dumbbell (100 reps)
We haven't figured out why the Gym hosting this event is standardizing thier workout at 325 reps, but we don't really care either! We go Extra Spicy on Monday Nights.
I've been to gymjones.com and read their tales of training the cats from the movie. Whoever created this workout was sick and should be incarcerated at Guantanamo Bay. We modified the training to meet our equipment "limitations".
Men were paired with women, so the ladies could have a strong spotter for their 50 pull ups. We had no barbells (this was an Advanced S&C class in the park, just KBs, picnic tables, and monkey bars) or boxes, so this is what our workout looked like.
25 Pull Ups (Ladies spotted at the feet or lats)
50 Push Ups (ladies used the picnic bench for elevation, as opposed to kneeling bullshit push ups)
50 Swings, any style (men 40KG ladies 24KG)
50 Crunches/sit-ups (whatever you call them, I'm not a fan of crunches, but they hurt, so OOH RAH)
50 Table Jumps or 50 Step Ups (clients had the option of performing one or the other, but not both, as some folks are motivated but nonetheless non-athletes)
50 Clean and Presses each arm (Men 16kg Ladies 8kg). This was the sick Sad portion of the workout, as I found myself muttering my rep count out loud and whimpering as I cleaned the bell for the 45th, 46th, 47th. . .
25 MORE Pull Ups. It took me 4 attempts to get my final pull up. I finished at 34:00+. I am disgusted, embarrassed, and sore. My whole upper body is brutalized. The only high rep exercises I perform are swings, snatches, C&J, deck squats, and h2h flow that lasts 3-5 minutes. I haven't trained like that since the days where, well, I didn't know better.
Though my time was way off where I wanted it to be, it was necessary to est. a bench mark so that when qualifying next Monday I have a number to use as a drop-dead time. If I'm not wrapping up the clean and presses by 22:00 I may as well hand over my testicles to the guy with the watch.
20070607
Sick Sad Little World
First order of business: I did not do my swings yesterday. Just 1 hour ago I rang my mate for a wee smoker. We went after 3 pull ups, 5 push ups, and 20 swings (any style) as many rounds as we could in 20:00. at 20:10 when I blew the whistle, he had gotten 14 and I was done, DONE at 13. 13 x 20 swings = almost enough to make up for the fact that I just HAD to rest yesterday. I thought about Coach Randy's blog and his mission to snatch everyday in January. I went at this every day swing theory a lil' reckless I suppose. Cause yesterday AM my back and everything south of my back on both sides was torched.
I first set out to get the swings first thing in the morning regardless of what my head, the Gods, or the world had in store for me. Thinking it was going to be an 8 minute death march to rev the ol' metabolism. Wrong. I need to carefully orchestrate my swing mission so that it doesn't bring me pain rather than joy. Tonight I used a 32kg for all but 10 swings. so, 250 with the 32kg is not bad at all. However, it was probably the first time in two years My swings actually felt nasty. And with the swing, if it isn't the most crisp and inspection ready thing you've ever done then it ain't worth doing. I understand gutting out a snatch test and just digging down on a run, but a swing is in another class. The swing should not be taken to the point of diminishing returns, correct? I mean, there are so many ways to flarg yourself if you try to fake a swing, why bother?
So tonight, my swings were plentiful, but if I was being watched by any of you, you would say that they were watered down and lame.
Tomorrow: Plan the assault. Tonight: Go see a romantic comedy with my buddy. We plan to sit two seats apart as per the Standard Operating Procedure of the Man Date Manual. His wife is OOT, my girl goes to bed early, and he is being admitted to the hospital in ten days for his THIRD flarging round of cancer treatment. Now is the time to laugh, cause in two weeks shit just won't be that funny. Two Xmas' in a row my man gets sick and then this memorial day weekend his dog passes away and he finds out he needs chemo again. I'll elaborate on my feelings toward this life in Sick Sad Little World pt. II
I first set out to get the swings first thing in the morning regardless of what my head, the Gods, or the world had in store for me. Thinking it was going to be an 8 minute death march to rev the ol' metabolism. Wrong. I need to carefully orchestrate my swing mission so that it doesn't bring me pain rather than joy. Tonight I used a 32kg for all but 10 swings. so, 250 with the 32kg is not bad at all. However, it was probably the first time in two years My swings actually felt nasty. And with the swing, if it isn't the most crisp and inspection ready thing you've ever done then it ain't worth doing. I understand gutting out a snatch test and just digging down on a run, but a swing is in another class. The swing should not be taken to the point of diminishing returns, correct? I mean, there are so many ways to flarg yourself if you try to fake a swing, why bother?
So tonight, my swings were plentiful, but if I was being watched by any of you, you would say that they were watered down and lame.
Tomorrow: Plan the assault. Tonight: Go see a romantic comedy with my buddy. We plan to sit two seats apart as per the Standard Operating Procedure of the Man Date Manual. His wife is OOT, my girl goes to bed early, and he is being admitted to the hospital in ten days for his THIRD flarging round of cancer treatment. Now is the time to laugh, cause in two weeks shit just won't be that funny. Two Xmas' in a row my man gets sick and then this memorial day weekend his dog passes away and he finds out he needs chemo again. I'll elaborate on my feelings toward this life in Sick Sad Little World pt. II
20070606
To end the rapture. . .
Dateline: Yesterday. 5 June 2007. Too flippin' tired (not flipping tires) to swing in the AM so I got my 100 + 20 with old Ivan, the 88lb. bastard, at my 1830 Intermediate Level KB Class. Felt good. Hit some wheels too.
So this weekend should be cool, nice and laid back, maybe go to the lake and politely decline my friend's cream-cheese stuffed mushroom and cream cheese stuffed jalapeno-wrap Whores Ovaries. I love them but cream cheese is not conducive to rolling out a sexy body in the summer time. So I'll offend the whole family, BUMMER!
I will, however, make sweet love to a two foot hoagie on Saturday 16 June while
A: Sarah is in Florida
B: UFC 72 "VICTORY" airs on PPV at 1500, live from Belfast (that should be sick)
C: I watch "Sands of Iwo Jima" after the fights.
I pledge to make that my next dedicated Junk Food day. I have a meeting with a client tonight that may invovle a glass of vino, but I'll stay the course.
Thinking 2 sets of 50 Transfer swings today for my 100. Though I made this pledge, I might actually insert a rest day before I leave for St. Paul on Thursday 21 June. My hammies have felt tight like piano wire the last 2 days, and downward facing dog just hasn't cut it. In addition, there is a BIG event for me June 18Th, as myself, buddy Mike, and fellow trainer/client and ridiculously built mother of two Nancy McKenna take a shot at the 300 Workout at a gym in West Chester, PA (a neighboring Village wrought with popped collars and plastic mammary sacks-not cool!).
I'm not a fan of workouts like the 300, but I did mention it to Mike, which is a bad idea, cause Mike will go all out in everything, no matter what his skill level is at any event. If I mentioned a Hot Dog eating contest, Mike would be boiling brats in like 10 minutes, and calling me to ask how many "I" could eat in 5 minutes. He's an awesome competitor, as are many of my clients, who motivates me to get more. I bailed on a workout two weeks ago, and he calls me the next day asking if "this number was the slacker hot line". My balls shriveled, and then I did 100 swings to drop those bad boys down to 98 degree temperature.
So I'm psyched. Good weekends lined up all through July, and no school for another 4 weeks YEAH! And when I do start up again it's American History II in an Air Conditioned room from 0900-1130 TWR less than 3 miles from my house. I'm pledging to ride my bike there any day I can.
A quick shout out to the fellow bloggers Tracy, Christine, and Royce. It sounds like Royce and Christine are joining the belly-off club, and Tracy, a grizzled veteran of SERIOUS weight loss is mounting a supporting effort. I commend them all. Now follow my link (to your left) to Tracy's blog and see what the Triple D can do for you (Determination, Discipline, Darn good trainer for a husband who no doubt gave her all the help she asked for and more).
Sing along with me:DROPKICK MURPHYS LYRICS
"Wheel Of Misfortune"
Cowboys and coppers verse injuns and robbers,
take a guess for which side I was prone
Maniacal pleasures and a taste for misfortune,
the legacy for which I was known
Down and out, I scream and I shout.
For this man from whom I need my advice
If the price is your life son, you'd better think twice as you march to the front like a soldier
So you'd think I'd aspire for greatness, hell-Bent to make a name on my own
Genetically programmed for the Wheel of Misfortune, I'm an heir to an unwanted throne
Now they've all got their theories,
opinions and such about this man who is down on his luck
Well the offers are plenty,
my options are many, still I opt to face my problems alone.
Down and out, I scream and I shout.
For this man from whom I need my advice
If the price is your life son, you'd better think twice as you march to the front like a soldier
20070604
December Everyday
I have a new "pet" band. A.F.I. I understand that they have been around for quite some time, and I am a Johnny-Come-Lately fan, but these guys represent everything I want in music. They take elements of Cure-esque Gothic romanticism, hard, pulverizing guitar and bottom end (sounding like a more vulnerable and raw Bad Religion at times) and, to wrap it up, they drop the sweetest, most uplifting/devastating choruses I've heard since Nirvana's "Bleach". So yeah, I like them. They're from Nor-Cal, and their last CD was titled December Underground. It plays on iTunes now. You must, simply must believe me when I say you will enjoy them.
100 swings, part TWO! The last 24 hours have been marked by scattered but voluminous thunder storms. Lots of light drizzle and then a cavalcade of sideways rain. A big ol' fat rain. So no late night training yesterday, and no outdoor man-making training until this afternoon. Yet I DID do my 100 swings with a 40kg. started off with 10 each arm, and followed with 20 instructional towel swings. Those felt awesome. Not because I was giving my grip and postural muscles a rest, but because my hips were flowing like Chali Tuna. Transfer Swings and One-Armed bastards finished my 100. Chowed down on a salad of Romaine and Cesar dressing (no cheese or croutons), and a big ol' albacore tuna club on multi-grain (no bacon, pickes, or olives). Good hearty meals. Just two appointments today, and then my two evening classes. Looking forward to getting deeper into Vonnegut's "Deadeye Dick". I wish you a day as light and happy as mine should be!
100 swings, part TWO! The last 24 hours have been marked by scattered but voluminous thunder storms. Lots of light drizzle and then a cavalcade of sideways rain. A big ol' fat rain. So no late night training yesterday, and no outdoor man-making training until this afternoon. Yet I DID do my 100 swings with a 40kg. started off with 10 each arm, and followed with 20 instructional towel swings. Those felt awesome. Not because I was giving my grip and postural muscles a rest, but because my hips were flowing like Chali Tuna. Transfer Swings and One-Armed bastards finished my 100. Chowed down on a salad of Romaine and Cesar dressing (no cheese or croutons), and a big ol' albacore tuna club on multi-grain (no bacon, pickes, or olives). Good hearty meals. Just two appointments today, and then my two evening classes. Looking forward to getting deeper into Vonnegut's "Deadeye Dick". I wish you a day as light and happy as mine should be!
20070603
Cadence to Arms
Just returned from taking my wee mate for a stroll. I love Jack Russell Terriers. With regard to the notoriety they carry for being high strung and demanding a lot of attention, it's all true. However, our Dog is a highly intuitive and ferociously athletic lil' character. Today we made our way north to the main road, and joined a procession of fellow village dwellers bent on absorbing every moment of the Malvern Memorial Parade. Bagpipes and middle school marching bands bookended a formation colored by former POWs, firefighters, Shriner's (in adorable little vintage auto replicas), Vice Admiral Joe Sestak (USN Ret.), our congressman in PA's 7th district, and the highest ranking military officer to serve in Congress. The dog and I ran into many a Malvernite, and even a few groups from nearby towns who trekked both east and west to fill their souls with hope and even answer a call from a time when popcorn and parades shared the days with simplicity and wonder.
This morning I followed through on a pledge I tried NOT to make last night. In an attempt to reconstitute my training, the future holds multiple destinations and excursions. I want to travel around the states and beyond partaking in challenges of all sorts. Maybe a hike maybe an arm wrestling tourney in Spokane, I do not care. I feel that I MUST satisfy my wander lust with jaunts to ne'er before seen towns and cities I'm unfamiliar with.
So, my pitch to Sarah sounded something like: I should do 100 swings every morning, first thing, regardless of time/temperature, every day for the rest of the month. Using a 40kg, which is the weight someone of my body weight should be training with.
This morning, I made good. Bob the Irish Bartender told me I would get "Mad, like a donkey" if I had another diet coke. This morning, I mule kicked that 40kg into high gear for 5 sets of 20. One arm and transfer. A few pull ups, a get up, and some high knees wrapped it up. I was happy to have followed through with that. 100 swings a day until June 30. I'm attending the Level Two training in St. Paul in three weeks. But darn it all if I can't just catch an early shuttle and hammer them out prior to the start of the training day.
Yesterday I taught three kettlebell classes in the AM. Linked blogger Christine came in for an AM KB jam. Attended an extremely well executed wedding reception in the ball room of one of Conshohocken's finest establishments. The Great American Pub they call it. This place won't even reach full capacity if you had 700 adult humans distributed evenly. yesterday also saw a short smoker led by Yours at the 1030 Advanced S&C Class. Renegade Rows staggered with DBL FR SQTS. A pair of 32s. Wheels and 40kg Swings staggered at 3+10, 4+10, 5+15 and back down to the bottom rung. Monkey Bar chins, parallel grip and standard pronated. Good training gets me wantin' some more. Always.
And, to conclude this update I'll briefly describe how my dog's penchant for tormenting other dogs just lifted me out of my chair in mid keystroke. The wee rascal was sniffing around the open, but doggie gated back door of the neighboring house. Causing a loud but non-irritating yip from the restrained dogs he was, essentially, flipping off.
Tomorrow AM smells like a Mad Donkey Man Maker, or, 40kg swing x 25+ i Lap, in under 2:00 x 4.
out.
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