PenteKing’s BodyBlog

…which, as my ex-wife was fond of saying, is a wild and dangerous time. Be that as it may, I was ruminating about the factors that attract one person to another. Oh, sure; there are those who will tell you it’s about intelligence and personality and inner beauty, and while there is a lot of truth in all of that, the plain fact of the matter is that, when you first meet a person, none of those qualities are evident. Those are all below the surface. What initially attracts you is the way they look.

Now, don’t get me wrong. This blog isn’t about attractiveness or society’s fascination with surface beauty. No, it’s something more than that. I think you are attracted to specific types of people. Take my brother’s preferences, for example. Every woman my brother has been attracted to share the same physical characteristics. They are uniformly short, stocky, with (to use Fern’s hilarious term) pendulous breasts and substantial buttocks. My other brother, on the other hand, prefers women who are just as tall and broad as he is himself. They are not unattractive, but neither would anyone say that they are pretty. My younger brother is repelled by my second brother’s taste in women and vice versa.

Now I provide these details as way of background and explanation. Both of my brothers, you see, look very much alike. They are both fairly tall, broadly built through the shoulders and chest, with almost no hips and scrawny legs. Their women, whether they realize it or not, have attributes they are lacking (that is, full hips and strong, sturdy legs). My theory is that they unconsciously seek out mates with physical characteristics they wish they had in themselves. In their offspring, they hope to create a "more perfect" reflection of themselves.

This may, of course, be total nonsense and balderdash, but I’ve noticed the trend in other of my friends (male and female alike) and while my sampling wouldn’t stand up to scientific scrutiny, it has a balance to it that I find refreshing. Who knows? Maybe we all seek that mate that "completes" us in some way. It may not be anything of which we are consciously aware, but on some level, we tend to seek out the same physical characteristics in all of the potential mates we consider. It is natural selection on a subliminal level that is buried so deeply it is nearly primeval. I wonder if there is any way of validating my theory. Wouldn’t it be cool if I could?

In re-reading this blog, the thought struck me - maybe my ex-wife was on to something when she said what she did.

In my humble opinion, Halloween is the best holiday ever. Kids love it. They get to dress up, go door-to-door and get free treats from people who otherwise would not give them the time of day. Adults like the holiday as well. (At least those adults who still have child-like qualities.) They have the opportunity of donning an entirely new persona and shedding their old inhibitions. Once a year, you can play the fool, and it is not only forgiven, it is practically expected. Even staid, stogy corporate institutions allow employees to come to work in full regalia. Candy is dished out in the break rooms. Cards are passed back and forth. We become children again.

Personally, I love the holiday. When I lived in Boston, I hosted the mother of all Halloween parties. Friends called me in August to see whether that year’s party was still a go. I’d invite all of my neighbors (so they wouldn’t complain about the noise), and I spent at least a week gussing the house up in anticipation of the big night. Jack O’Lanterns would be carved; food would be prepared; liquor would be laid in; and the DJ would be given explicit instructions. Rarely did the party end much before two or three a.m. A splendid time was always guaranteed. Once you were on the invitee list, you were on the list forever, but I had a strict rule - no more than seventy-five guests. That was pretty much all the house would hold. Of course, folks dropped off the list, but that was exception rather than the rule. Mostly, it was because someone moved away. Only once in fifteen years did an invitee decline an invitation. It was a blast. Everyone had the best time.

Now, of course, I live in a small condo and parties such as these are out of the question. I try to attend a Halloween party every now and again, but it’s not the same. I miss my old parties. This Friday, I think I’ll carve an awesome Jack O’Lantern, have a drink in memory of the old days, and recall the best times of the old days.

Happy Halloween everyone.

I was on the treadmill today, slogging away, trying to melt off this last bit of belly fat. To divert my mind, I had my eyes on the television (sound muted) while listening to my iPod (LaTour and other energetic tunes). I was on the treadmill for a full hour. During that time, I saw (and I know, because I counted) fifteen (15!) commercials for one kind of drug or another. They had drugs for erectile dysfunction (Cialis), asthma (Advair), heart attack (Plavix), and many others too numerous to mention (or memorize).

In between the commercials, the station aired a newscast dealing with Medicare. The patient they profiled (an old woman and her daughter) consumed a combined forty-five (45!) pills every day. Even with subsidiaries, they shelled out an incredible $11,000 dollars a year for medication. I shudder to think how much the bill would be without Medicare backstopping these women. And that’s only two Americans. Think of how many more people exactly like them are living in America at this very moment. It’s not wonder health care costs in the country amount to nearly 20% of our national budget. It’s incredible.

That is why it is so important to educate friends and family about the bodybuilding lifestyle. Proper diet and exercise have been proven to be effective against the ravages of a variety of diseases, including diabetes and high cholesterol. Weight bearing exercise strengthens bones and prevents problems like hip and knee replacement. If more people lived like bodybuilders, it might be possible to lower health care costs to the point where it will no longer threaten to bankrupt us.

This is a national problem, and needs national attention. Do your part fellow bodybuilders. Spread the word. Be like Ninja Bill and actively seek out and educate those around you. Lead by example. Be patriotic. Do it for your country’s sake. Future generations will thank you.

Toay is the first day of the last week of the three-month Rock-Hard Challenge. At the end of this week, I will assess myself and see what (if any) progress I’ve made toward my goal. I have a photographer friend of mine lined up to take my progress pictures, and I will post them, no matter how disappointed I am with the results. (And, of course, I expect that I will be disappointed because I am a perfectionist.)

Still, it’s been a great three-months. I’ve followed the routine as laid out (including the diet) and took off only one week so that I could get my bike ride in (to benefit the MS Society). After this week, I’m going to take off a week to rest and recuperate, and then I plan to be back at it, working on my body like a sculptor chiseling away at a block of marble. (Michaelangelo, where are you?) I have a definite vision of how I’d like my body to look, and I intend to keep at this until I achieve what I set out to do.

So wish me luck and when I post my progress pics, don’t laugh too hard.

I wasn’t really feeling it today, but like the good soldier that I am, I put on biking shoes, slung the backpack over one shoulder and powered over to the gym (which is my personal play on words because I work out at the Powerhouse Gym. I know it’s not very amusing, but I need a laugh of some kind!) At any rate, I made it over to the gym and started my workout. Today was back and bi day, so I started off, like I usually do, with straight-legged deadlifts. I achieved a personal best today, but couldn’t take pleasure in my achievement because the guy next to me was lifting nearly double what I was. Now I know this isn’t a competition (except that it is), but I couldn’t help feeling just a wee bit inadequate. Still, I resisted the temptation to throw some more weight on the bar in an attempt to match my erstwhile companion. (My back is, even now, offering prayers of thanks.) I kept with my routine, reminding myself that I have a goal and a plan, and that there are people who will be ahead of me and people who will be behind me. I told myself that this is my path. I’m not following the path of the guy next to me; or the woman across the gym; or the gentleman on the pull-up bars. I’m following a path that I’ve set out for myself, and while the journey has been slower than I like, it has been steady, with significant progress and many milestones achieved.

Tomorrow, I am doing a forty mile bike ride (just for fun). The day after that, I’ll be back on the weights. It’ll be chest and triceps day, and I’ll be following the path I’ve laid out for myself. If I pass one of you on the journey, I’ll be certain to say hello and to wish you a good day, but don’t ask to to tarry long with you. I’ve a goal to achieve and only a limited amount of time in which to achieve it. The road is long, with many a winding turn, but I know where it leads.

I worked shoulders today. I’m not seeing much muscle growth, but I am growing stronger. I have increased my weight and reps significantly, and that’s a good thing. I’ve taken in an enormous amount of food today. I must need the calories, because I’ve been eating everything I can lay my hands on (all good stuff, of course). It’s nine o’clock at night, and I’m still hungry. Once this blog is written, I think I’ll raid the fridge to see if that left-over piece of grilled chicken is still any good. (And I might eat it anyway, regardless.)

Anyway, back and biceps tomorrow. Let’s see if I can achieve a personal best.

I refer, of course, to the overall score in the World Series, and not the final score of Game One. I believe the Devil Rays will go on to win the Series, but I am mightily impressed by Philadelphia’s pitching. Tonight, it was masterful. Of all the activities in all sports, pitching, IMHO, is the most difficult to master. The mechanics, the finesse, the power and the strength required to last six, seven or eight innings against an array of batters is no mean feat. One of my favorite pitchers, Steve Carlton, used to engage in routines that, at the time, were considered weird and bizarre. Today, of course, with scientific evidence to back it up, those same practices are now the norm of most major league players.

It’s much like our bodybuilding lifestyle. Twenty short years ago, bodybuilding was still considered an offbeat sport. Only weirdos - so the thinking went - engaged in it. Today, it is a respected and admired sport and lifestyle. One, I must say, that I am proud to be part and parcel of. The experience that bodybuilders have built up in the arena of nutrition, muscle atrophy, cell regeneration and bodyfat analysis and elimination is the foundation upon which scientists now build.

I’m with Ninja Bill. Bodybuilding is not a curse. It is a blessing, and the knowledge that you, as a bodybuilder possesses, should be shared with those who are less in the know. You will be doing them a favor, while making the world a better and healthier place. Live large, my bodybuilding brothers and sisters. You are the forerunners of the new generation.

Today is week 11 (of week 12) of the Rock-Hard Challenge. I’ve followed the routine pretty rigorously, and I’ve seen some pretty good changes in my body. The one complaint I have is that I STILL cannot lose the last residual belly fat. I simply do not understand. My diet is uber-clean; I have been doing some intense cardio, and I’ve even taken to using Lipo 6. No matter what I do, however, I still have this little roll of fat around my middle. It’s depressing as hell. After all this time; all this work; and I still can’t lose the last bit of blubber around my gut.

People tell me that it’s my age, and that it’s much harder for someone past the age of forty to get and stay lean. But I reject this. I had no trouble leaning out everywhere else. In fact, my legs are like tree trunks after all the biking I’ve been doing. My arms have no residual fat. So why is my middle so flipping stubborn? Frak! Is liposuction an alternative? Or do I suck it up and redouble my efforts?

 What thoughts have you, my bodybuilding buddies?

Science preaches that cold travels faster than heat. If this is indeed true, then how come people never catch heat? They always catch cold. There’s a particularly nasty cold virus that is circulating around the office, and I have (somehow) come in contact with it. It has attached itself to my chest like an unwanted visitor. My head aches, my eyes are watering, my nose if running and my throat is dry. How, I wonder, can I have some many differing symptoms? You’d think the body would want to concentrate on one (or at the most, two) symptoms.

I have to ask myself - why???? I take care of myself. I eat right, I get the right amount of rest, I exercise. So why do I have this cold, and why am I sick? It’s not fair; it;s not right.

I am going to to drink some orange juice, quaff a thermosful of chicken soup and get about nine or ten hours of sleep. Perhaps I’ll feel better in the a.m.

My entree into the 150 mile club began yesterday morning at 4:00 a.m. PST. It was then that I stepped aboard the bus that would take me to the starting line of the Bay to Bay Bike to Finish MS event. A little over two hours later, I was deposited into the chill morning air of Irvine, CA. After seeing to last minute details (taking a last minute pee, making sure I had my ID, etc.), I strapped on my biking shoes, mounted my trusty Fuji, found my way to the starting line and then took off when the starter gave the signal.

Going 100 miles is no easy task. It involves strength, of course, but more importantly, it takes mental toughness. The physical punishment your body takes is bad enough, but the real challenge is not letting negative thoughts enter your head. This is especially important when you’re tackling a three-mile hill at mile 70, with the mid-afternoon sun beating down on you, and the next rest stop more than six miles in the distance. It’s tempting, at that point, to quit. Your calves and quads are screaming with fatigue, your traps are stiff and sore from holding your head up, and your ass is so numb, you wonder if it hasn’t fallen off a few miles back and you just haven’t noticed. That’s the time when mental toughness comes into play. It’s at that minute when you say to your body, "Shut up! We aren’t quitting, so stop your complaining and conquer this hill. We’ve go a job to do."

I am proud to say that I finished the Century Challenge yesterday, and followed it up by going an additional 50 miles today. In so doing, I raised over $1,000 on behalf of the MS Society. It’s not much, but given the uncertain economic times, we do what we can, with what we can. I want to thank my teammates, Andrea, Julie and Rebecca. A man couldn’t ask for more supportive or encouraging partners. Thanks, ladies. Let’s do this again next year.