Sybir Fit

I have so many blogs to keep track of, this one is the least of my focus. If you’re ever curious about reps, weights and my workouts, odds are I’ve posted on my livejournal site which links to my fitness site.

Work outs:

I work out 5-6 days a week, lifting heavy and hard for anywhere between 4 sets of 6-10 reps each. Monday - Shoulders; Tues - Back, Wed - cardio only, Thurs - arms, Fri - chest, Saturday - Legs.

Cardio is 2-3x a week, whenever and wherever I can get it in.

Foods:

6-9 meals a day, mostly protein.

200g of protein, about 150 carbs and 30g or less of fat along with all my vitamins and nutritional supplements

It’s one week in. I can feel the pain as it rips across my shoulders. I’m sure my glutes are going to protest when I try to roll out of bed tomorrow morning. Thank god, the youngster is at his grandmother’s and I don’t have to get up at 7am. Instead, I can be leisurely and roll over around 10am. That’s late for me

Today was a 2 hour team workout.

It was supposed to be one.

Leg Day, but I superset. So, everytime I completed a squat, front squat, stationary lunge, walking lunge or reverse leg press, I was doing pushups, pullups or dips. Oh yeah, and we ended with handstand pushups.

I got two. With help. Hey, it was better than some of my team mates. AND, I’m the one with the weaker shoulder Go figure.

This was followed with a modeling session for a local sculptor. (For those who don’t understand…stand stationary in whatever position the scupltor requests for an hour…your muscles lock up after an insane workout.)

This past week was 6 days on, one day off. I have two more weeks of this. THen it’s a week break and back to a 3 on and one off cycle thru Feb. I am determined to add some mass to my upper body. It seems to respond rather well to this workout. (I was noticing my shoulder cuts today and estatic.) It seems extreme to some. And, gods, I’m tired. But, I’m seeing the difference and I’m determined to compete in the NPC ranks in ‘07. So, I’ll just suck it up.

Hope everyone is having a great week! Happy All Hallow’s Eve.

~S

Saturday, October 21st - CatKlaw, Inc. (that’s Nick and I) in conjunction with Lou-Evil Psycles (our motorcycle club) and Panek Productions and the DC Rollergirls put on a kick ass charity fund raiser for the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. And yes, this version will be edited for the official press release. I’m sure the daily news would just love the word “ass” in the press release. (By the way, we still have time to collect $$ so, if you want to donate, click here.)

The day started out with a slightly delayed motorcycle ride. We had a few things posted that the ride started at 2pm rather than 1pm, which was the advertised start time. While the ride was small, the riders had a very scenic route with two support vehicles trailing them just to make sure no one had problems and every one stayed safe. We figured if we HAD the support vehicles, we wouldn’t NEED them. And we were right. Better to be safe. Plus, it meant the pup could participate in Daddy’s “ride” event. While, I would have loved to have been on my bike, DB took great care of it. I would have wussed out on the curvy roads. I’m just not that good of a rider yet. And especially leary after the broken coller bone and shoulder blade last year from the ride. (Yes, you do hear the bones break when they snap.)

The ride ended at Club East Coast, a long time venue in the older section of Woodbridge on Route 1. (The parking lot is a bitch to get into NEVER try it with a Camaro or other low riding car, and yes, I speak from experience years ago when my 25th Anniversary Camaro and I had a disagreement with the elevation of the entryway.) Anyway, pup and I left the bike crew there, it was off to Yia-Yia’s (grandma’s) house for the night for him. As much as he would have loved the music in the later part of the evening, that’s far too late and smoky for a 2 year old. Besides, he was facinated with the train set she’s built up for him and barely even registered a “bye mommy, I love you” as I darted back out the door.

I was back to the club in record time to find 4 of my Team Physique members walking in. I can’t tell you how much it means to me that they support the events that we do. My team mate, Monica, has made it out to both this year. She’s awesome in that regard, not to mention, she TOTALLY kicked ass at the recent OCB show we did and took home 1st Place in Fitness Model Division. I’m still insanely proud of her for doing that. One of my dearest friends, Susan, won second place in the Poker Tournament at the club that was part of the event from 4-7pm. The DC Rollergirls were there as well, collecting funds for the National Center.

An hour’s break before the music festivities set in, some people darted off to other things, some stayed. We had a great line up of bands - Re-Aligned, Hello Tokyo, Envy Insane and Just Wanna Play - and raised about $500 in raffle/donations. Of course, I’d harassed my mother into giving me $5 for a donation, which I garned into raffle tickets for her. I even took out a pen and wrote her name on the back of hers.

Damned if she didn’t WIN.

I donated it all back in her name.

And, since she’s my mom, she wasn’t ticked off at me this am when I told her this morning Of course, Nick was like….you won on purpose. Me? Nah. (I think he was pretty emotional when I told him she was giving it all back.) The money needs to go to the cause. I can’t fathom the pain of having a child missing. Hell, I can’t even go to the website to see those faces, although, I should, you never know when you’re going to pass one at the mall. I just know, I’d kill the person who tried to swipe the pup. My heart goes out to those parents.

And as if there was any doubt, we WILL be doing this event annually. Next, year, I will make more time to make the event even grander (this year, I was too tied up with my upcoming competition the weekend before). Cat killed on what he got done all on his own. I couldn’t be prouder of the other half of my soul. He managed to do it all on his own and made for a successful event. He raised THREE TIMES what he told the Center he was going to.

So, kudos to Cat. You DID it angel, I love you for being you.
Thank you to everyone who participated in the event: DC Rollergirls, Panek Productions, David Wulff - our scupltor, Symantec for the highest donation, to the bands who played the event, to Club East Coast and to ALL the friends who made it out to the event (and hell, anyone ELSE who I forgot). We love each and every one of you for who you are.

Namaste

I am light. I am love. I am peace. I am happiness. Breath in, up and slowly back out again. Letting the movement of breathing wash over me, it sweeps through my chest, exploding gently into my ribcage, and then collapsing, folding, escaping with the clustered clumps of knotted tension of the day. On the next breath, my spirit is still splintered from the casing of my skin. Separate, I am shattered, severed, and not quite whole.

Another breath in, up, slowly, gently expanding, sweeping outwards. Life starts to surge through me, creeping up my toes, swirling around my ankles, arcing around the muscles of my legs … coaxing them to release the tension. Let it go. I am light, I am love, I am peace, I am happiness. Coiled energy, tense, tight, retreats with each breath, a forced march of retreat up my body as relaxation settles and nestles in each cell.

Heaviness weighs down my legs. The softness of the quilt beneath me cocoons their leaden weight. I am sinking, settling into the quilt. Another slow, controlled breath, I am not separate from the quilt. It’s softness merges, becomes one with my form. The separateness battled valiantly, twitching along fingertips, making a final show of defiance, threatening with glee to buck the focus, the concentrated effort to merge with the breath, the force of life.

Deep breath, the heaviness, leaden across my pelvis and then spreading up into my chest, blending me with the blanket beneath. Our edges are blurred, a single swipe of pastels, no end, no beginning, no sharp jagged points. All one form, all one pulse.

My eyelids have stopped twitching, laying feather light against the arcs of my face. Each lash rests gently, finding a home, a settling place. Only darkness paints the canvas behind my lids. I am focused now. My spirit is no longer splintered in a multitude of directions. I am leaden. I am still. Cocooned in the warmth of peace, I am only breath, life, and the balance of nature.

The jungle has retreated, a path opened up. The darkness takes on dimension, life moves in the ink black sea. A break in the night, a swirl of muted colors start to emerge, subtle at first, sneaking up on the screen of my mind. Darker hues of blues and mauves arc into a dark rainbow, pulsating, cavorting, dancing in the motion of breath. As the spark of a candle flame, small flickers of white swirl into being. Entranced, relaxed, at one with myself, I know nothing but the soft whoosh of breath, in and slowly back out, repeated as the stars shine in the night sky of my mind. Heartbeats are slow, measured, calm, unpressured, the deeper the focus, and the deeper the calm.

Peace, a feeling, a state of mind. I can sense it, I can be it. Lashes flow upward, shifting the fabric of the universe. Ebbing and flowing with the energy of space around me. Each cell of mine has merged with each cell of invisible force filling up what couldn’t be seen. We are one. Peace radiated about the room. I am. I am the bed. I am the ceiling. I am the dance of life between the two. Separated only by what is unseen, blended, born into each other by the same.

My eyes track across the room, minute in the shifting focus. Everything has merged together. There is no beginning where I beginning, no ending. I am pat of the bed, we dance in a balance, a blending of motion, a movement of give and take. It is a shifting in the energies of the universe. When my energy steps forward, the energy of another flows into another. Nothing is empty, nothing is alone.

The candlelight flickers in slow motion. The yellow gold of the flame twists and turns, cajoling the eye, mesmerizing in its soft, sensuous dance of energy. It has merged with the air. Nothing separate. My breathing is still slow, measured, inhaling the energy of what the flames cavort to. Staring into it long enough, I lose the sense of definition about the room. The flame expands, it is the sole focus of my intent. Definition of the room subsides, a blur of color is all that encompasses what was once so well defined. And still my heart beat slows, faint, it is resting, it’s rhythm sustained and measured, in sync with each breath.

Nothing intrudes on this scared space. Outside of the candle, I sense nothing. I am completely consumed by the beckoning light. I am breathing it in, I am becoming fire. The heat of the flame warms my body as I focus on it. Color surrounds me, consuming me in a motherly embrace. I am protected. One last inhalation, one last breath, I move back from my intent of the flame. Slowly, gently, I expand my vision to what lies outside the shell of the candlelight. With increasing awareness, objects start to come back into focus. Definitions return.

My breathing is still slow, rhythmic, but the world has expanded again. Ever so carefully, I allow myself to focus on a single object. Bringing it’s edges in to clear sight.  I define them. A brush, a compact, a tube of lipstick. My dressing table has returned to its physical existence. The hint of belonging still lingers about each item, but now, they are separate, held together by an invisible stroke of cosmic energy.

And somewhere in the house, the faint sound of the phone ringing reverberates through the cotton cloud setting of my mind.