At some point north of 40, I realized that when my body said it’s time to eat…it was time to eat. I had a window of course, but it’s gotten shorter through the years and hard training doesn’t help. When I’m hungy, I need food. Without it, a slight headache comes on which turns into full on annoying pain and if still not addressed, all out HAnger.
Which is completely understandable when you’re hanging out with a group of folks who train, they understand keeping the beast at bay. But when you’re with family or friends who have talked themselves into a lifestyle where good food isn’t necessary throughout the day, that can present problems. Traveling with non-eaters is nearly impossible. I remember last year when Bigg traveled to Mexico for work and his Rep drove him around for over three hours after landing trying to find his favorite restaurant (no, don’t bring up the fact that if this was the best and favorite restaurant of this local he should have obviously known where it was. I asked that already.) But after a five hour flight and three more hours driving in Mexico, my hubs finally told the guy that he needed food. Now.
Look, if Matt got his stern voice on while telling the story, I can only imagine how that came out in Mexico. I picture something like this…
True story. Heehee.
This past weekend, we were at a birthday party for ProStrongman Sam McMahon which pretty much meant that at least 85% of that room understood hangry. In fact, one local Strongman’s fiance was on the verge of hangry so we quickly directed her to the meat and cheese platter already set up before the birthday boy got there. Usually, all that’s needed among people who train is a quick, ‘geez, I’m kind of hungry’ that elicits a universal response from those around them of trying to find food before it gets out of hand.
We get it. Hangry is bad. We avoid it by pre-gaming. Matt ate nearly a pound of his burger and rice mix prior to getting ready to go to the party (which had amazing food there waiting for us. Bonus.) If someone around me says they’re hungy, it’s addressed. If I’m out and about for a while, I’ll make sure I have a snack even if it’s just a jar of almonds in the car (not recommended in sub-zero weather if you like your teeth.) When I fly, I take at least two Tuna Lunches with me. If it’s a big flight, four. Plus a protein shaker with a baggie full of back up protein. As god as my witness, I will not HAnger.
In other news, this guy…
Since our Wisconsin Governor seems to be a current front runner for the GOP Presidential Candidate, it’s open season on Scott Walker. I guess people hate him. Like, really really hate him. Now, if one of these people speaking out is a jilted girlfriend from the past, I’ll understand the hate. But hating a politician is weird to me. (No, I don’t hate Obama. But I don’t believe he loves America or Americans and has not been a good President. Hate? No. I don’t know him.)
So much so that when I read the following clip off one non-fan yesterday on the Facebook about a story that was recanted (due to it being a lie but no one wants to hear that) I shook my head. Here’s what she wrote:
I hate him so bad that when I lived down the street from him in Wauwatosa, I’d make sure when I walked my dog that he would poop in Walker’s yard every day. It made me feel better knowing my dog pooped in his yard. I cleaned it up of course because my point was already made by the elimination act.
What. The. Fuck.
I can’t even wrap my head around that crazy. Sooooooo, you HATE a man you don’t know so you had your dog poop in his yard each day? And that was satisfying to you in some way and then you actually admitted it on the internet? I bet you told your friends too, right? And not one of them said, “you’re a fucking idiot”? You need new friends.
As mentioned, we were getting our birthday party celebration on for Sam McMahon on Saturday. It’s kind of rare that Matt and I get together with this group in a non gym setting so I was pretty excited. Sam’s wife, Julie, made sure we had delicious food; great wine and beer, and cupcakes to keep us in line.
At some point, as I was talking to our dear friend and wedding officiant, Swede, I kind of realized that the room was filled with some of the best of the best in our local strength world. Champions, ProStrongman, Pro Bodybuilder, record holders, gym owners who provide the setting to get better each week…and one ProStrongman mom who I absolutely adored. All here to celebrate Sam. It was a great night.
Filled with lots of laughter and good stories. Many stories about Sam which is fun. But with every story, there was a common theme. That he is an amazing strength athlete and highly respected in our little world and loved very much by his peers. I think that’s pretty cool. I think it’s even cooler that it was upstairs of their favorite pub and not at a funeral home. Cuz that’s usually when we eulogize people, when they’re not even here to hear it. That’s kind of bullshit. Let’s keep in the habit of telling amazing people we think they’re amazing while they’re still standing, eh?
And if you have wine and cupcakes…even better.
Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it everywhere, diagnosing it incorrectly and applying the wrong remedies.