When I use music which cemented itself into my housing vault in the ever-important Formative years to settle the wolf or to actually fuel an endeavor, I always come out on the other end quite spiff. Bands that have always meant the world to me, like The Misfits, The Cure, NIN, and early Nirvana will do the trick when I feel blurry and uncalm. So recently these fits of aggro have begun to annoy ME, and that is always when I make the change. Not when it's eating someone Else's ear but when it jitterbugs its' way into my Perry Farrell. So fuck it I eased up on the metal and worked out to the Cure these last two days.
For those of you who have not been following fully the last 6 weeks have seen mighty change in my daily and some marked improvements in all areas but let me tell you something I learned from my own Labratiosis: When I switched my weightlifting pattern up I went way South. I mean some tweaking in my intentions of working out for the next 4 months really kicked like a yuck mouthed mule. Dude all I wanted to do was gain about 8 lbs. of size and balance out my top/bottom. I wear a size 42 waist because my ass and legs are so big. Gross right? But hey now, that is how I'm dealt. Even if I didn't lift I'd be no stick figure eh? Booty over here.
So changing my focus from pure strength (working with real heavy weight in 1-3 repetitions per set) to muscular hypertrophy (growth) on par with my height and weight made for a large boost in testosterone levels. WHO knows how it worked. I end up on meds that let me sleep at night and then I lift for looks and all gets loose in my grasp. Whu-evuh (British), I'm my own grip right now but that was rough.
Here me now this is what's happening.
Jim Murphy (Blog to the right, The Ultimate Survivor) just left University Hospital after his third round of Chemo. He's a bloke in a bubble for the next few weeks. And you bastards want to know something else? his wife, the lovely and talented, is an Immunologist. Yeah! She studies how the body will fight disease. Think homey knows what his white cell count is? He'll rip you a playlist of dope tracks straight from the Cancer Survivor Library. We won't be seeing Jimmy for awhile, but he's at home right now pumping his fist to the hearty clap of a war drum and telling Cancer to get fucked! OOH RAH.
yes yes I'm clearly unsupervised today, so don your flak jacket. This Sunday we meet again at the Art Museum to lift ON for Jim and the Lance Armstrong Foundation. Taking donations on the spot and online at philly07.livestrong.org
Come down to the East Entrance and pay homage to human triumph. When you always believe you can, you can always.
