PenteKing’s BodyBlog

What is it about people that they have SO much trouble acknowledging the good things that a person does? In our society lately, it seems as though all anyone wants to focus on is the negative. This person did this bad thing, or that bad person did that bad thing. The stories have the identical air of covering one’s opened mouth in shock, and then drawing one forefinger across the other in a "Shame on you" gesture. I, frankly, am sick of it. Half of the things that people get up in arms about are harmless.

I really wish people would stop looking at other people’s faults with a magnifying glass while overlooking their own sins and transgressions. What was it that Jesus said? Oh, yes. "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone." What do you say we stop tearing down and start building up? Let’s try a simple experiment.

Tomorrow, everyone on this site should make it a point to praise someone for at least one good thing they have done. It doesn’t have to be a recent event, either. I’m certain that if you looked around your circle of friends, you will find someone who you have not acknowledged in a good way in quite a long time. Send them a card; ring them up on the telephone; chat them up in person. While doing so, make it a point to say something nice. Perhaps we can fill the air with enough good vibrations to blow away this air of negativity for a little while.

I periodically check my profile to make sure that what is displayed matches reality. While doing so, I noticed that my first post and blog was June 22, 2007. An anniversary had passed, and I hadn’t even noticed. That surprised me because I’m usually pretty good about things like that. It’s one of the things my ex-girlfriend liked the most about me. I always remembered her birthday, and the anniversary of our first meeting. (Why we broke up is a long, involved (and sad) story, so needless to say, I won’t go into here.)

I’d like to take a moment to reflect upon the journey thus far. At first, after deciding to get back into the lifestyle, it was hell and murder. Getting up in the morning to do cardio, and then forcing oatmeal and eggs down my throat was worse than having a thousand paper cuts. Lifting weights made me grumpy because I couldn’t do much, and the iron seemed to mock me. (Yes, I know I have an overactive imagination, but there are times when it has come in handy.) Several times during that first month, I seriously thought about quitting. I kept remembering how good it felt to sleep past 5:30 a.m.; how great a Jack Daniels and ginger ale tasted after a hard day’s work; the taste of greasy pizza on my tongue. I deluded myself by eating "low fat" eight-grain muffins from Starbucks. (Before I wised up and looked up its nutritional content.) I scarfed down Yoplait yogurt, and swallowed peanuts to satisfy my cravings. I tettered on the edge for a while, and if not for Coach, I think I would have slid back down into the pit and would be there still.

Coach was the first trainer I hired when I made the decision to shape up. I knew that if I paid her fee in advance, I’d been too embarrassed to ask for it back, and too parsimonious to let her keep it without earning it. So, I sloughed out of bed and into the gym, and subjected myself to her harangues and admonishments. I kept at it and kept at it, and before long, I not only stopped resenting Coach, I started liking her. After a while, I grew to love her, and not in the way that you might think. It was her job, but it was more than that. Coach seriously took an interest in me. She motivated me when I needed it, stroked my ego when I was feeling badly about myself, and kicked my ass when I was being dog-assed lazy. You can’t ask for much more than that in a personal trainer. At least, I can’t.

I’m into week 2 of the 3 month rock-hard challenge. No matter how badly I hurt, no matter how much I cry and whimper and complain, I know I will finish the challenge, meeting every standard that is set out for me. I will do this because I can. I will do this because Coach showed me that I had the will and the determination.

Thank you, Coach. You changed my life more than you can ever know, and for this, I will be eternally grateful.

As I suspected, the hardest part of the Rock-Hard Challenge is the diet. I am having all kinds of trouble packing away the recommended number of calories. The light calorie day is easy, because it’s right in my sweet spot. The medium calorie days are moderately harder, but I can manage to consume the 3200 calories that is called for. The high calorie days though? Oy, vey! Who would have thought that eating would be so much work? It wasn’t this hard when I was munching on pizza, burgers and beer. Clean eating is hard work. You can only shove so much chicken and tuna down one’s throat before the stomach looks up and says, "Whoa, buddy. You’re about to have a revolt down here." I thought maybe ingesting the calories via protein drinks would make the task easier. In my stepfather’s immortal words, "What are you, stupid? It ain’t that easy, bubcakes." (My stepdad honestly uses this expression. To this day, I have no idea what bubcakes is supposed to mean.)

Anyway, as I was saying…the exercises (while difficult) are achievable. This diet? Oy, vey!