Monday Bacon: Conditional Love

Posted on October 12, 2015 by tosabarbell

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The term “Unconditional Love” seems to be all the rage these days. It’s interesting to me because it’s something that I hadn’t heard very often until I got to Wisconsin. It’s trendy I suppose, since it shows up all over stupid mommy blogs on the Facebook (yes, most mommy blogs are stupid. Sorry not sorry. If you need validation for saying “no” to little johnny from other mommies who need validation all over the webz before you finally feel “comfortable” with it, turn in your parent card until you’re ready and can look your kid in the eye and say in your sternest PARENT voice, “VALIDATE THIS!! GET YOUR TOYS PICKED UP OR TOYS WILL BE GONE. 10 MINUTES…GO!”) 

Anyways. Not the point of today.

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In general, I’m uncomfortable around people who wear their insecurities so loudly. So when I read (or doG forbid, have to listen) to mommies scream how much they love their children UNCONDITIONALLY, I’ll back away. I love my children. Isn’t that enough? Do I have to add an adverb (it’s adverb right? Someone smarter in English correct me if I’m wrong) to make it so? Will people around me feel like I’m lying if I just say, “Love you dude” instead of “I LOVE YOU UNCONDITIONALLY SOOOOO MUCH UNCONDITIONALLY THAT I LOVE YOU SO MUCH…UNCONDITIONALLY!”

Why isn’t Love enough?

I probably love my husband unconditionally but that doesn’t mean conditions aren’t a part of our marriage. He can’t hurt me; he can’t scare me; he can’t decide to have an “open” relationship (aka: sleep around, there’s actually groups around this town where you can go for that. For srs.) There are conditions in life where, when violated, would prevent a person from having an ongoing relationship with me. Will I still love you? Probably or at the very least I would have a respectful love for a past that at one time was good (very adult eh? Not always easy though.) Conditions are actually a way to keep relationships that are full of love healthy. Healthy is good. I’ve had my share of unhealthy, thanksuverymuch, I’ll pass on any of that shit now and forever more.

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I thought of all this when I woke up on Sunday morning in Indianapolis after throwing in my last Highland Games of the 2015 season. Well, the first thing I thought was, holy hell why did I throw an extra 20 sheaf toss’ when we were all done? True story, I was more sore than I’d ever been but hey, when you’ve got a Pro next to you (thank you Jeremy Gillingham!!) you take advantage of getting in some lessons and you throw until your body screams. Funny not funny.

When we said our goodbye’s after dinner on Saturday, there were a lot of “Love you’s.” Big, end of the year hugs and an all around feeling of happiness. And the next day (don’t you hate when people start their sentences with “And”? It’s like people who double space after a sentence, SO ANNOYING) I thought of not only the ‘love you’s’ we got the night before, but how many times I had heard it all season long.

But these “love you’s” come with conditions. As they should. The friends we love walk through life on the same basic path. Our values have similarities and we can even learn from each other to give value to things we hadn’t even thought of. We enrich each others lives, not break them down and when we need a good ass kicking, our friends are right there to give it to us. With love. Because sometimes conditions are the exact thing we need when we get out of line. And we know, at the end of those Games when we get a big hug and a “Love you” that these are the exact people who will be first in line to keep us honest.

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Photo Credit: Douglass Sisk of scottishheavyphotographs.com

When we were saying our goodbye’s in St. Louis after an amazing Sushi meal, I got big hugs from the Wechter’s and while I did, both Mark and Victoria said I love you and ya know what? I felt loved. It’s simple and amazing but it doesn’t come free, nor should it. That’s what makes it so special. That the people in life that we admire and respect and think so highly of feel the same way about us and they do so because of the way we walk through life. Yes, the walk will include cussing and attitude and large parts of brattiness, those are the bonuses. Heh. When you know people love you in spite of whatever our least polished attributes are, that’s incredibly special. But it’s not unconditional. I can’t come to the field and be a complete shit to people around me; bully them and try to make the day all about me or talk shit about them when they’re right in front of me, believe me, I have unfortunately spent field time with those types of people. They are dark; and dissatisfied, and want to spread the ickyness in them to all who will listen. Nope. I feel bad for them but at the same time will keep my distance. Their darkness is theirs to live in, not mine. And they will always find folks who will listen and add to the ick. Let’s face it, too many adults haven’t left high school. Good luck with that.

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But that conditional love from our Highland family; our tribe in Wanatchee; other family and friends that support us; all of you…

Thank you. Your love is one of my greatest treasures in life and all that I’ve gained in this Games season is immeasurable.

Good friends are hard to find, harder to leave, and impossible to forget.

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Friday Jams: Elvis

Posted on October 9, 2015 by tosabarbell

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I like this picture of Elvis Presley. It’s real. As real (I believe) as he’d allow anyway. I wrote briefly the other day on how I miss Walter Payton, well, I miss having the voices of Elvis; Freddie Mercury, Bing Crosby. Real. Raw. Comforting. One of my favorite songs on my i-pod right now is Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now. It’s at the top of my current playlist. I just close my eyes and am enveloped in Freddie Mercury’s voice. Real singing. Pure. Starting the day with Freddy is just a good day.

I remember the day Elvis died. We were having a garage sale (I really hate those things but boy, getting twenty bucks cash for my old junk sure was fun) and I was inside while my Auntie was tallying up the sales to that point when it came on my AM radio that Elvis was dead. I was young, 10 years old I suppose. I wasn’t a huge Elvis fan but I knew that this was a big deal. A very big deal. I remember watching the news that night, the scene’s shown remind me of those in attendance when President Kennedy was shot. Shock, sadness. So much sadness.

I throw in an Elvis tune here and there on my playlists and his music was the only thing good about that stupid movie Lilo and Stitch (Srsly, Ohana means family and family means nobody gets left behind. Shut up, sometimes family is the exact people you should leave behind. Also, it was a toss up who was more annoying, the little girl or the alien. Srsly. I’ll listen to the soundtrack all day long but I’d rather watch elephants hump than that stupid movie again.)

Anyways.

My mom hated Elvis, that probably curbed the listening enjoyment as I was growing up. She thought he was vulgar. I think that’s kind of weird but to each their own. The 50’s weren’t happy times for her and music can bring such vivid memories of the past to us that I can understand her dislike.

But when Elvis died, I knew to remember that day. it’s not something I think about very often except times like this where I’m feeling a bit nostalgic for good and real things of the past. Music; sports; tube tops, and Levi’s corduroy bib overalls:

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I had a pair exactly like these. I loved them. I miss them too.

One of the best things about competing in the Highland Games in the Masters class is the fact that it is very likely that I’ll meet other people who also miss all this 70’s stuff. You don’t have to explain what Bonnie Bell Lipsmacker or Bubsdaddy bubble gum is.

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5 cents for a foot of bub’s daddy. My childhood was cool.

And then I met and spent time with my Las Vegas girl, Victoria Wechter and her love of Elvis makes me think about all this stuff. A better time for music, fashion, and sports. LeSigh.

So this one goes out to Victoria.

Enjoy the weekend,

More than anything else, I want the folks back at home to think right of me.

Elvis Presley 

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Instagram

Posted on October 8, 2015 by tosabarbell
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From: Instagram Pictures of the Week

I really enjoy Instagram. The pictures can be stunning and drop ship you right into the realities around the world that are beautiful, tragic, fun, silly, and very cool. Although the hashtags tend to get a bit out of control, it’s far better off than the FB folks thinking they’re going to solve serious social and constitutional issues by sharing a motherfucking meme.

Srsly.

Anyways. During last night’s Cubbie play-off game, Matt and I started looking around Instagram at the “Bio’s” folks put on their accounts (what are we gonna do, watch the whole game? Uh uh, the most exciting part was when there was a bench clearing…puffing of the chests at each other and some Fabio looking dude losing his shit on a Gatorade cooler. But it’s the Cubbies who maybe get to go the Playoffs; kinda like a Halley’s Comet sighting.)

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Photo credit: Adweek.com Halloween pictures of Instagram

The fun thing we noticed is that the more amazing and world class the person, the less they said in their Bio. Which really, for me, reflects the ebb and flow of the elite. They talk less, excel more. If you have to let everyone know on a social media Bio how awesome you are, ummmmm, you’re not that awesome.

Unless you really are. Here are some of our favorites:

Joe Kovacs: USA Track & Field athlete-Shot Put (He’s a World Champion. Like, a real World Champion.)

Nathan Parker: I throw heavy things in a kilt, my wife is hot, and my kids are awesome. (Very Nathan, understated in regards to himself, spot on in regards to the wife, dunno about the kids but I’ll trust him.)

Danica Patrick: Driver of the #10 GoDaddy Chevy. (Less is more)

Anthony Pettis: Father/Prize Fighter (I know one of his neighbors. When he moved in and the cars and boats started showing up, her husband thought a drug dealer was moving in next door. Then Mr. Pettis came over with his daughter to introduce themselves and said he was the absolute nicest man he’s ever met and HOLY SHIT WE LIVE NEXT TO ANTHONY PETTIS! True story.)

Arnold: Former Mr. Olympia, Conan, Terminator, and Governor of California. I killed the Predator. I told you I’d be back. (It seems as if he likes to have fun with his shit. I like that.)

David Storl: David Storl (’nuff said.)

Reese Hoffa: Professional Thrower, Recreational Rubik’s Cube Solver, Coach at Hoffa Throws Academy (Pictures of the Rubik’s cube solving included.)

Ed Coan: Worlds Greatest Powerlifter (True story.) 

Andy Vincent: Just trying to be better than I was yesterday. (Humble. Very humble.)

Adrian Wilson: #teamplayagain intothedistance.weebly.com (Includes an adorbs picture of she and her husband and the link to a documentary she is featured in.)

And the winner of the Instagram Bio’s go to…

Roger Federer: I’m a professional tennis player (Ya, no shit, the best that’s ever played. Geez.)

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Photo Credit: Captivatedigitalmedia.com

OH! I imagine I should share mine, especially after some fun awards I’ve won this year that I want to let everyone know about:

Jules: Ma, Wife, Strength Coach (What it has been since day one. Well, up until a year and a half ago it said ‘girlfriend’ instead of wife but other then that, ya. These are the roles and accomplishments that speak most to who I am.)

True story.

Conceit is bragging about yourself. Confidence means you believe you can get the job done.

Johnny Unitas

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Big Man Got Jump

Posted on October 7, 2015 by tosabarbell
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Vidas Blekaitis celebrating his World Loglift Championship win!

I used to be amazed at the common misconceptions of Strongman by those who were starting out on their strength journey. I’m being kind here by saying “starting out on their strength journey” because it’s usually little douchebags who have a few months of lifting under their belt and think they’re something special because they just hit a leg press PR (no, I’m not against the leg press. It has it’s usefulness but so do squats, get under a bar or STFU.) We all know them. Someone hit a 185# push press and thinks they’re ready for Champions League (yo! dude, girls push press 185#. Ease back on the false lat spread walk through the gym, eh?)

Anyways. I’m not amazed anymore. The audacity of the ignorant that exudes in gyms these days fail to surprise. The notion of what it takes to become an advanced athlete stunted by mama’s all across America telling their 30 year old little babies that they’re the bestest in the world RIGHT NOW and if some old mean coach (or boss for that matter) tells them they’re not, well don’t believe them because they’re just jealous of little baby’s awesomeness. (Think I’m wrong? Think again.)

The Strongman, the top ones and those working up to that point (Tebow), have been working a lifetime in some fashion to achieve what they do. If you’re just starting out at 30 years old, congratulations. Starting is awesome, keep working. But the big guys, those we watch achieve amazing feats of strength (and delude ourselves into thinking we can do the same thing), they’ve already been at it for over 15 years cuz they started back in childhood. It’s one of my favorite responses of Matt’s when a man asks him how to get as big and strong as him, “Roll back the clock 15 years and start training. Good luck.” 

There is a perfect storm for these top athletes. Those we watch on Sunday’s running up and down fields, crushing each other in hopes to come away with a pigskin ball (no really though, do they still use pigskin?) Hard work, proper training, a positive support system, determination, a little bit of luck and GENETICS! See how many of us can have everything leading into the last, most important, characteristic?

Genetics. That one little piece of the puzzle that will determine if you’re Log Pressing 200 kilos or 200 pounds. Now, there are many who do a fine job of making up for their genetics not stacking up against a Big Z or a Walter Payton but in most cases, tapping into that genetic potential will give you that extra jump.

Jump. There’s a reason why testing of the vertical jump in younger athletes is an integral part of determining potential.

Cuz ya gotta have jump.

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Andy Vincent doing the Caber turn happy dance. Photo Credit: Douglass Sisk, scottishheavyphotography.com (check his photo’s out, they’re amazing. We’ve bought some to put up in the gym.)

Now, I’m a huge Walter Payton fan. I miss his style of play. Never quit, even in his personal life at the end. Class on the field. You knew you would see something of beauty when watching the Bears in the 70’s and 80’s. Walter Payton had jump:

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Sweetness. I’m guessing after this play he just handed the ball back to the ref and jogged back to the huddle. I miss Walter Payton.

But, as you know, I have a soft spot in my heart for those big guys and there’s just something fun about catching a photo when those big guys show why they’re the best of the best…

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Olympic American Weightlifting Shane Hamman would often hit a back flip after a good lift. 350# folks.

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Having Randy White coming at you had to be slightly terrifying…or wonderful (depends who you ask I guess;)

The explosiveness needed for those amazing jumps is also what’s needed for top level Strongman. I understand that while we watch on television the few minutes of World Strongest Man we’re allowed each year, we see strong. Strong is recognizable. But there are too many young lifters and athletes out there who don’t understand JUMP and that’s a huge fail.

In this video, you get a “through the stairs” glimpse of Big Z’s jump game. I know I’ve said this before but I’ll say it again,  watching him in action is a gift. To see his strength, power, and explosiveness is nothing short of mystical. Big man got jump. FoSho.

My hubby has jump. I forget that sometimes like when I hit him with a drive-by bratty comment and keep walking, it’s actually surprising how fast and explosive he can be to catch me (truth be told, I don’t even try to get away;)

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Matt after his 5th place finish in the 2013 World Loglift Championships in Vilnius, Lithuania with Champions League co-founder Ilkka Kinnunen and World Strongest Man Svend Karlsen.

Matt’s “JUMP” is part of the reason why he still has an open invitation to any Champions League event he wants to attend. (Do I smell another Lithuanian trip next fall????)

But see, he’s 40, and he started training when he was 15. And he has JUMP. So catch up if you can, but to ignore this vital piece of training (especially WITHOUT the genetics of the best), well…good luck on that dude.

Never die easy. Why run out of bounds and die easy? Make that linebacker pay. It carries into all facets of your life. It’s okay to lose, to die, but don’t die without trying, without giving it your best.

Walter Payton

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