PenteKing’s BodyBlog

I officially begin my vacation tomorrow, and for ten days, I plan on no weight training, no watching my diet (well, maybe just a little bit), and no aerobic activity (well, maybe just a little bit). I’m looking forward to this because it’s been sixteen long weeks since I started this journey, and my body (and mind) is tired. I’m wiped out, especially mentally. It’s been tough these past few days to drag my sorry butt out of bed and get to the gym. Because I’ve had to cover for a colleague, I’ve had to alter my routine and work out in the late afternoon. Man, that is a killer! I don’t know how you folks who do it all the time manage it. By the time five o’clock rolls around, I’m drained. Getting psyched to do some serious lifting was harder than actually lifting the weights.

So, I’m off to Toronto, Ontario, one of the more cosmopolitan cities in North America for ten days of fun and relaxation. I may write during this interlude, but don’t count on it.

I’ll see you all in the funny papers. 

I’m baffled. I’m mystified. I’m beyond bewildered. How is it possible to cut one’s caloric intake, increase one’s exercise regimen, and NOT LOSE WEIGHT? How is it possible? I’m eating super clean meals five to six times a day, as advised. I’ve upped my protein intake, lowered my fat intake, and balanced out my carbs. I’m working out with weights and mixing that with the right amount of cardio. My body is changing. I can feel it under my hands, and I can see the evidence with my eyes. BUT I’M NOT LOSING WEIGHT!!! How is this possible?

I’m baffled and frustrated. All of you lean and hungry bodybuilders out there, tell me. What in God’s name am I doing wrong?

I’ve re-engaged Coach. I had to do it. Training without her barking encouragement in my ear was like Sherlock Holmes going off on a case without Dr. Watson at his side. My training was somehow incomplete. It was missing an essential element, and that missing ingredient was Rachelle.

She’s a tiny woman with a heart as big as all outdoors. She’s kind and gentle and funny, except when she’s training you. Then, she’s all business. She watches you like a hawk, and is quick to swoop in and point out your flawed form. She demands one more rep, and by God, she gets it, even when your mind is convinced that your body has nothing left to give. She is the most demanding, encouraging, provocative trainer that it has ever been my privilege to work with.

I literally could not walk after my leg workout with her today. Couldn’t do it. I pumped out that last leg extension on the last set of the last exercise we had planned for the day, and then I collapsed, muscles quivering as though stimulated by electrical impulses. I’m telling you, boys and girls, if this doesn’t do it, nothing will.

I blasted my chest and triceps today, and am feeling totally depleted right now, but am also feeling elated in that smug, ‘can’t-top-this-feeling’ way that happens when I know I’ve pushed the envelope a little bit more. I haven’t taken body measurements in two months, and I’m tempted to do it, but I promised myself that I would give my body a full twelve weeks to make some progress. My hands and eyes feel the change, but the sternest and harshest critics are the measuring tape and the skin fold calipers. Those two devices are the ultimate judge and jury, and their verdict is final and cannot be appealed. I’ve either made the progress or I haven’t. I’ve either worked my ass off, or I haven’t. It’s like Yoda said in "The Empire Strikes Back". He said, "There is no try. There is only do or not do."

I think I’ve done. Time will tell if my thinking is in line with reality. I hope it is, because that kind of disappointment should only be reserved for those times when the woman of your dreams breaks your heart. 

I can’t begin to express how happy I am that today, when I jumped on the scale, it registered 195.3 pounds. After being stuck at the 199 - 198 plateau for about three weeks, it was GREAT to see the change. Of course, the fact that I did nearly an hour and half of cardio yesterday, and only consumed 1500 calories may have had a direct influence here, but WHO CARES? I made it to 195. Yea, me!

Let’s hope the trend continues until I hit about 185. At that time, I’ll re-evaluate my 175 pound goal. For now, though, I am one happy camper. (Whatever the **** that means.)

I know that conventional wisdom says that squats are the foundation upon which bodybuilding is built. I know that working your lower body is essential to optimal muscle growth and overall strength. I know all this, but man, do I dread leg day. I think the reason is that I know I’m going to work myself so hard that, at the end of my workout, I’m going to feel like a dishrag that’s been wrung out by the Jolly Green Giant (does anyone remember this 50s icon?). Today, inspired (shamed, some may say) by the blogs on this web site, I doubled my usual amount of weight, and went at it. In the immortal words of Vince Vaughn in Dodgeball, "I threw up in my mouth a little bit, but that’s okay, because I swallowed it."

I’m dead on my feet. I’m going to drink 20 ounces of Isopure, take a hot shower and then grab about two hours worth of sleep. I need it.

For those who care about this sort of thing, my routine was:

Squats - 3 sets at 250 pounds for 10 reps followed by 2 sets at 300 pounds for 8 reps

Leg Curls - 2 sets at 160 for 10 reps followed by 1 set at 170 pounds for 8 reps

Leg Extensions - same as leg curls

Calf Raises - 2 sets at 175 pounds for 10 reps followed by 1 set at 200 pounds for 8 reps

Seated Leg Press - 2 sets at 270 pounds for 10 reps with toes straight, turned out and then turned in.

Straight Leg Deadlift - 2 sets at 160 pounds for 5 reps.

So, today I was the only participant in my 6:30 a.m. spinning class. Chuck (who is ALWAYS there) didn’t show, and Han has moved to Washington D.C. to pursue his lifelong ambition of being a Congressional page. (I told him to stay out of the men’s washrooms when Congress was in session, but I don’t think he heard me). Traffic delayed the instructor’s arrival, so instead of starting at 6:30 and going until 7:30, we began at 6:40 and ended at 7:45. I’m not complaining, mind you. I mention it so that you’ll understand the scenario.

The class started off in the usual way (warm-up, sprints in the flat, etc.), but then, we sequed into uncharted territory. Our spinning class is supposed to be an aerobic one. Because I was the sole participant, I guess Tracy felt bold and daring, because she took me through a routine that, while exhilarating, left me feeling like a post-al dente noodle. I could barely walk when the hour was over - that’s how intense the class was. It was great and it was fun, and I almost hope that no one shows up again next week.

As an addenda - I don’t know if the exercise had anything to do with it or not, but I took in nearly 2100 calories today, which is about 300 more than normal for me. I’m still hungry as I type this, and it’s now more than thirteen hours after the fact. I was briefly worried about the excessive caloric intake, and then said to myself, "**** it. You’ve earned it."

Keep pumping that iron, boys and girls. A magnificent body is waiting just around the corner.

The title was taken from a book that I just finished. It’s quite remarkable, and I recommend it to the three or four readers who are left out there in the world.

I worked chest and triceps today. Using the Smith machine, I hit the flat, incline and decline bench presses, and then followed that up with pushups and dumbbell flyes. By the time I made it over to the cable machines to work my triceps, my chest was on fire. It felt great.

Did a superset routine on my triceps that was recommended by Coach. You do fifteen reps at 50 pounds with a close grip, immediately followed by fifteen reps at 50 pounds in a reverse grip pulldown, and then top it off with wide grip pushdown for 15 reps at 50 pounds. With no rest in between at all, drop and do fifteen tricep pushups. Needless to say, I didn’t make it through all three sets that I had planned. I got as far as finishing the second set, but couldn’t make it through the third, no matter how hard I tried. It’s a bitch being a total wimp.

Now that I have the routine down, I’ll do it again. Maybe I’ll get better with time. Spinning class tomorrow. Blast that fat!!!!

On the surface, everything seemed jake. I woke up at my usual 5:00 a.m., had a bowl of oatmeal, and headed out to the gym. I warmed up okay, and then hit the weights, planning on doing some serious back and bicep work. But it didn’t happen.

For some reason, I just could NOT make it through the workout. I did the reps half-heartedly, and had no energy; no pop; no pizazz. Normally, I would have burned the better part of ninety minutes in the gym, but today, I was out of there in under 60. I made up for it by visiting my condo gym later in the day, but I knew (and my body knew as well) that I had cheated today. I stepped outside my routine, and I didn’t get my usual aggressive start to the day. I can only hope this is a one-time aberration, and not the start of a slow, gradual slide back into inactivity and sloth.

I read Maddi’s post the other day - the one where she exposed herself so nakedly and yet so beautifully - and it got me to thinking about my own relationship.

My wife and I have had some seriously hard times. She too, like Maddi, fell seriously out of love with me, and yet - for reasons I have to yet to fathom - she stuck it out and hung around. Today, our relationship is very, very good, but I know that I had nothing to do with it. Nothing at all. I like to think of myself as a good man, but I know I have a selfish side that threatens to consume everyone around me. It vies with my obsession of closeting myself in the office for hours with the single-minded purpose of seeing how many web sites I can visit before I drop from sheer exhaustion.

I know for a fact that my wife contemplating leaving me. She even made plans and had things all arranged. But she didn’t go. It’s not like anything was holding her back. We had no children, and I would have been generous to a fault if, indeed, she had decided to leave. But she stayed. I’m amazed and perplexed. Why? Why did she stay when she was so obviously and deeply unhappy. Our marriage was offering her nothing in the way of satisfaction. So why did she stay?

I could ask her, but that would mean unearthing feelings and secrets that have long remained buried. Is it worth reserrecuting all of that simply to indulge my curiosity? Isn’t it enough that she decided to stay, and that she has once again found the generosity to love me again? It should be, and yet, it isn’t. But because I have grown (not a lot, but a little) I will keep this nagging question in my heart, and I will not broach the subject with her. She has cast her lot with mine, for better and for worse. I can do no less than to try and be the best man and husband that I can possibly be.

My wife may never read this, but if she does, I would like to publicly thank her for her generosity of spirit, and for loving me as unreserveredly as she does.