PenteKing’s BodyBlog

There are people in the world that are simply incapable of experiencing joy. You know who they are. They constantly whine, bitch, moan and complain about everything. If it’s not this; it’s that. If it’s not this thing, it’s the other. They are the ones whose first reaction to any given situation is "I can’t", or "it’ll never work". They are the naysayers of the world, and I, for one, am sick to death of them.

If, from my rant, you guess that there is a person of this general demeanor in my life, your assumption would be spot on the mark. This woman (who shall remain nameless, in order to protect myself from liability) has never once, during the entire time I have known her, ever had a good day. It is getting to the point where I go out of my way to avoid her, simply because I do not want to talk to her. She drains my energy and tinges my world in shades of gray. I wish that I could avoid her competely, but she and I work together, and are often thrown into situations where we are forced to work side by side. I have tried to jolly her out of her dour moods. I have pointed out that situations are nothing more than that. They are situations. They are neither good nor bad. It is only one’s reaction to the circumstance that colors how you view that circumstance. I have pointed out to her that it is just as easy (easier in some cases) to look on the bright side, as it is to look on the dark. All to no avail.

What do I do? I’m afraid that this energy vampire will suck the life right out of me. As there is no escaping this woman, I must find a way to not only cope with her pessimism, but also find a way to combat it. Can anyone help me? I’m desperate.

I’ve decided to try a new routine. It’s obvious my old one isn’t doing squat for me (no pun intended). I think a combination of heavy weights and poor biomechanics has led to a repetitve stress injury that is hampering my overall progress. So, I’ve decided to lower the amount of weight per rep, and concentrate on using absolutely strict form. By that, I mean really focusing on the exercise - visualizing in my mind the muscle that is being worked, and listening to how it’s responding. I not only want to look good, but I want to be strong. My mantra is to build lean, hard, useful muscle. I have promised myself to taken no shortcuts and accept no excuses. I’m saddened to say that I have been less than dedicated to that premise, and so, beginning today, I’m going back to my roots and re-dedicating myself to my original mission.

It won’t be easy. There is a tendency in human beings to go with the familiar - to accept the known. The natural impulse is to go to stasis - to keep the status quo. That may work for some, but it is anathema to bodybuilders. We thrive on change. We actively seek out and promote change. We are continually looking for ways to grow and improve. If I am not committed to that lifestyle, then I cannot truly call myself a bodybuilder. If I cannot call myself a bodybuilder, then I cannot belong to this community. That is not an option.

So (to use a Biblical turn of phrase) I’m going to gird up my loins and prepare myself (mentally and physically) to overcome my personal stasis. I’m sick and tired of this plateau. I want to seek out new vistas.

Wish me luck.

Don’t talk to me about being older than dirt. I knew dirt when it was still a rock.

A man without a woman is a bachelor. A woman without a man is a genius.

Sure, marriage can be fun some of the time. Trouble is, you’re married all of the time.

I like to rub my meat with lemon and spices…is a sentence that most men who grill cannot say without giggling like idiots.

I get my summer glow from a bottle labeled ‘Zinfandel’.

I believe that everything happens for a reason. Usually, the reason is that somebody screwed up.

Why adopt a highway? I already drive like I own the road.

Most stress is caused by three things: money, family, and family with no money.

I try not to limit my madness to March.

Only on a cruise ship will you spend hundreds of dollars a day for the privilege of sleeping in a closet.

Thanks to the internet, you can get hopelessly in debt without ever leaving your house.

Prescription drug costs are a tough pill to swallow.

Apparently, windshield wiper fluid works much better than spit on a mitten.

If there is a tourist season, how come we can’t shoot them?

Trust me; tight-fit jeans and loose-fit skin are one bad combination.

My sex life isn’t dead, but the buzzards are circling.

I’d consider hormone replacement therapy, but I’ve got a bunch of other things that need to be replaced first.

Aging hasn’t slowed me down. And it hasn’t shut me up.

My new low-fat diet is really working. The fat’s hanging lower every day.

Three things to avoid in building a positive body image: fat diets; unrealistic goals; and of course, three-way mirrors.

There aren’t enough hours in the day. I have come to that sad realization after futilely trying to stay in touch with my friends and acquaintances. Originally from the East Coast, I now reside here in sunny San Diego. Trying to stay in touch with those I left behind is murder. The distance between us is enough to give you fits. And if that wasn’t bad enough, there is the time zone difference to deal with. I try to catch up on my calls and correspondence on the weekends, but I want a life as well, and I can’t (won’t) be a slave to my keyboard.

And then there are the new friends that I’ve met since landing in California. We are in the same time zone, but we lead different lives, and it’s just plain hard to keep up-to-date on those I’ve come to know and love.

And then there is this community. I started this blog as a way of keeping myself motivated, and also as a personal journal that I could return to at a later time and reflect on how I’ve changed. I didn’t count on making friends with the other members of this community, but that is exactly what has happened. Even though I’ve never met some of the people with whom I converse in person, I feel closer to them in many ways than I do with other people whom I have known for years. When I don’t reach out to them, or respond to their blogs, or fail to respond to their emails and comments, I feel lower than dirt. The guilt is oppressing. I try, but as the Bible has so incisively noted, "The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak."

I won’t make promises or commitments. I will only say that I will try and do better. That’s all you can ask of any man (or woman).