PenteKing’s BodyBlog

What is motivation? What makes one person drag their sorry ass to the gym every day - rain or shine - while another person couldn’t work up the enthusiasm to get off the couch if their hair was on fire? What differentiates us in this way? Why are some of us inclined (nay, compelled) to adhere to this bodybuilding lifestyle while others of us continue to cram our faces with sweets and crap and other unhealthy things?

This has been top of mind recently - ever since I learned that my brother has decided to give up all his bad habits and get himself in shape. He is now in worse shape than I was when I started my journey, and while I applaud him for wanting to do this, there is a part of me that KNOWS he won’t keep at it. He never has. I can’t count the number of times my brother has vowed to walk the straight and narrow. I’ve seen him flush his cigarettes down the toilet; I’ve helped him empty his cupboard of Twinkies and Doritos and pre-packaged food. It doesn’t last. It never lasts. The longest he’s ever gone has been three weeks. I give him credit for going that long. The boy simply has NO discipline.

Why? We were raised by the same set of parents. We had the same surroundings. We both had the same opportunities. What makes us different? I wish I knew.

Since starting this journey, I have made tremendous progress. Make no mistake about that. At one point, I weighed more than 250 pounds, and much of that weight was nothing but lard. My back and legs ached; my lung capacity was abysmal; and I got fatigued at the mere thought of exercise. Comparing myself now to what I was then gives me a sense of accomplishment and pride.

That being said, I’m not satisfied. I want more. I want to add ten pounds of hard muscle, while reducing my bodyfat percentage to about 8%. Why? Because it has ALWAYS been my dream to have a physique that would turn heads. Does this make me vain? More than likely. However, I think pursuing this goal is good in that it will allow me to become healthier than I am today. It will enhance the foundation that I’ve put in place.

It started this past Monday. When I got home after work, I realized that I couldn’t wait for the week to be over, and it was only the first day of the new week. For reasons I’ve not be able to determine, I’ve been extraordinarily tired this past week. I’m not only physically exhausted, but mentally wiped out as well. My workouts have been less than stellar, and my concentration is worse than a three-year in Disneyland. I cannot figure out what is wrong with me.

Friday night, I came home, dropped my stuff in the living room and went straight to bed. I woke up three hours later, ate, and then went immediately back to bed. This morning, I woke at 9:00 a.m. (three hours later than my usual waking time) and I still feel as though I could use another three to four hours worth of sleep. Aside from the tiredness, I feel okay - just sluggish and lethargic.

Has anyone else experienced this state of affairs? If so, let me know what you think it is and what the cure might be. I can’t continue going on this way. I miss my old self.

In the interests of full disclosure, it must be revealed that I am a techie. I have been employed in Information Technology for more than twenty-five years. So those of you reading this blog will understand the depth of my pain and anguish when I say that technology bites the big one. There is no rhyme nor reason for things to go ker-flooey (that’s a technical term, by the way) in the middle of the night. Yet that is EXACTLY what happens. And it doesn’t happen when you’ve got all the time in the world. No, it always happens at the worst possible time, and often, under the worst possible circumstances.

Today, my home network decided to kick the bucket. I have a cable modem, a wireless router, a switch, a server, a desktop, three laptops, a network storage device, and two printers. When the network goes down, it ain’t no picnic, as my old man used to say. Troubleshooting the problem isn’t the hard part. It’s crawling around on my hands and knees, tracing wires, unplugging connections, and then testing what I’ve reconfigured. Ten minutes of this is enough to make a saint spitting mad. An hour of it will drive you to a homicidal fury. To put things in perspective, I’ve spent the better part of the last two days troubleshooting my wired and wireless connections. It has been, shall we say, difficult. It would have been easier if the router (the ultimate cause of all the trouble) had simply up and died. But no, that was too simple. It had to do the long, slow, lingering type of death - the kind where it flickers back to life for hours on end, only to slip, gasping, into black oblivion.

Today, I pulled the plug and am now connected directly to my cable modem. A new, better, faster and stronger router is on its way, and I can only hope its life span is a wee bit longer than the last one.

Wish me luck, boys and girls. It’s going to be a long couple of days.

I’m going to have T-shirts made up with that slogan blazoned across the front and back. (Don’t anyone try to steal my idea, either! I have this copyrighted!) To those of you who don’t know her, Chicken Tuna is the epitome of clean eating. Her diet is exemplary. Every time I weaken; every time I’m faced with temptation; every time the smell of a pepperoni and mushroom pizza wafts across my path, I steel myself, and ask, "What would Chicken Tuna eat?" It strengthens my resolve and helps to keep me on the straight and narrow.

Her web site is chock full of smart, intelligent and useful advice. True, she will occasionally harangue you, but trust me, folks, most of us need it. Very few of us have her discipline, drive and desire. Chicken Tuna is to be emulated and admired. For my part, I do my best to mimic her eating habits. Why? I think she says it best.

"Living in a fit, healthy body is worth the pain and sacrifice."

If any of you want to appropriate that slogan, be my guest. In fact, I encourage you all to repeat that to everyone you meet, at every chance you get. We need to spread the word.

Thanks for the inspiration, Chicken Tuna. I salute you.

Are we bodybuilders genetically pre-disposed to lifting weights? Is it inherent in our DNA? Were we subliminally programmed as babies or very young children to have a prediliction toward lifting iron? Or is something in our personalities that makes us want to linger in closed, artificially lighted rooms with groups of sweating, grunting men and women - all of whom are engaged in the same obsessive ritual as ourselves?

I have a friend who is an avid runner. To him, the thought of devoting two hours to lifting weights is roughly akin to having wisdom teeth extracted sans anethesia. Yet, he will think nothing of spending that same two hours running the Convention Center stairs, expending enough energy to power a square city block. He thinks I’m crazy, and if truth be told, I think the same of him. Running simply does not float my boat. Just the thought of running is enough to make me cringe. Even now, writing about it, I have gooseflesh. I imagine my ambulatory friend has similar feelings about taxing his muscles past the fatigue point.

Yet, though we have chosen different activities, we are very much alike, he and I. We both do something for the pure love and joy of it. We both want to achieve something, and although our end goals are different, the paths we take to reach those goals are strikingly similar.

To me, all of us who sweat and grunt and strain and jump are all brothers under the skin. We chase an ideal. We all seek the Holy Grail. We simply have differing visions of it.

Today, for the first time in over a year, I took in more calories than I expended. According to my personal copy of FitDay, I ingested 3, 174 calories today, 1,230 of which was protein. I ate three (3!) protein bars today, at an average of 270 calories a piece. It is true that I took in 300 grams of protein, which is nearly twice the amount I normally eat, but still… I’m stunned and amazed. It didn’t seem like all that much when I was taking it in. It was only when I finally got around to recording my food intake for the day did I realize how much I had eaten.

What’s really strange, though, is that I didn’t feel at full or bloated, despite the large quantity of food. That may be because I ate constantly throughout the day, and am refueling to replenish the energy I expended yesterday, when I went for a four hour plus bike ride. I’ll check the scale tomorrow to see what the bad news is, but for now, I’m not going to worry about. There’s very little I can do about it now, anyway, and stress, as you know, is a killer.

 Still…3,000 calories. It boggles the mind.

Every now and again (not often enough, but I’m working on that), I incorporate rope jumping into my cardio routine. When I first started doing it, I was awkward and weak, and kept getting the rope snagged around my feet and ankles. For reasons I won’t dwell on here, I kept at the exercise until now I can jump rope non-stop for fifteen to twenty minutes at a time. I’ve discovered that jumping rope has released the inner child within me.

After a jump roping session, I’m giddy with joy. I feel bubbly and carefree, and spend the balance of the day in a mood that can only be described as euphoric. As a former drug user, I can attest that the high I get from jumping rope surpasses any chemical induced thrill I’ve experienced.

I don’t think what I feel is similar to the rush long-distance runners have described, but I could be wrong about this. Running is not my favorite activity because I don’t like the pounding my knees and ankles take, especially when running uphill. Jumping rope stresses my body, but not in a way that leaves me sore and exhausted afterward. Even after a particularly strenuous rope jumping session, I feel more exhilirated than tired. Next to biking, this has become my favorite aerobic activity.

Now all I have to do is learn how to do fancy rope work. Then, I’ll really be cool.

Keep lifting, guys and gals. You’re getting better every day.

Be forewarned! This is a rant!
 

Many of the folks on this web site write very well. Some are even eloquent. I salute those of you who respect and understand our language’s beauty, charm and imagery.

Then there are those of you who butcher the language. Whether through ignorance or indifference, you twist and bend the language into pretzel-like shapes that make me sweaty.

Here is one glaring example: the difference between lose and loose. I can’t count the number of times someone has written, “I lost two inches off my waist and my pants are lose.” Loose is defined as free from anything that binds or restrains. Lose, on the other hand, is defined as to come to be without through accident or theft. Here’s a simple rule of thumb – if you no longer have it, you have lost it. If it is still in your possession, but the fit is like wearing grandma’s underpants, the word you’re probably looking for is loose.

Another one that really gets under my skin is when someone says, “We have money to loan.” You don’t loan money; you lend it. A loan is the act of lending, which is the act of granting the use of something on the condition that it will be returned.

And then there’s the famous, “Drive safe.” Who is this safe guy and why is everyone exhorting me to drive him somewhere? The phrase is “Drive safely.” Drive is a verb and needs an adverb to modify it. Adverbs modify everything but nouns and pronouns. A word is an adverb if it answers how, when or where (which the word safely does in the above sentence.)

Adjectives, as the perceptive among you may have already guessed, are words that describe nouns and pronouns. They usually come before the word they describe. (What a cute puppy.) At times, they come after the described word. (That puppy is cute.) Either way, you see that the adjective describes a thing

Writing well is rapidly becoming a lost art. I’m probably showing my age (and general crankiness) by lamenting the lambasting our language is taking. Between email and text messages (texting! Oy, the stories I could tell you), our language is losing its versatility and uniqueness.

For the sake of the most beautiful, varied and inventive language on the face of the planet, please use it wisely and well. On behalf of grammarians everywhere, I thank you.

That cry for help, while hyperbolic, was nonetheless real. Those of you who have been perusing my blog know that I’ve been stuck (literally STUCK) at 195 pounds for close to six months. No amount of cardio/diet/supplement mix seems able to kick start my metabolism into losing this last stubborn five pounds. I’m doing an hour of cardio nearly every day, am watching what I eat (to the point where my friends are casting suspicious sidelong glances at me), and am getting the proper amount of rest.

WHAT AM I DOING WRONG???? (Excuse me while I wipe these tears from my eyes.)

Seriously - if there is anyone in the community who can offer me some pointers, you will earn my eternal gratitude and lasting friendship. I’d call Coach, but since the Athletic Center closed down, she’s been hors de combat. The other trainers at my new gym have no insights to offer me, except for offers to take me on as their client for prices that seem a trifle steep for what I’m looking to do.

Here’s the bottom line. I want to get down to 190 pounds of lean muscle, with approximately 9 - 10 percent bodyfat. I eat pretty much the same thing every day - 80 grams of oatmeal with raisins and honey; two poached eggs and toast; black cofee; protein shake; piece of fruit; spinach salad with 6 ounces of grilled chicken; Power Bar; piece of fruit; two servings of vegetables; lean meat or fish; Isopure Protein drink. If I vary (which I very rarely do), I substitute brown rice for the oatmeal in the morning. Aside from that, I’m a machine.

Thoughts and comments are not only welcomed, but encouraged.