Monday Bacon: Cleaning Up

Posted on February 2, 2015 by tosabarbell

bacon

As much as I’m not one to set New Year’s resolutions, I guess I have one. I don’t know how it happened, I have just noticed a trend these past few weeks and I’m going with it. And that is to clean up my computer time (no, this has nothing to do with porn, is nothing sacred?)

No crappy lifting videos. None. You want to post one? Fine. Don’t care. But don’t tag me in it to watch. Especially if I’ve coached you in the past and you decide to forego that and start lifting shitty and then later complain that your lifts aren’t going anywhere or that you’re injured. I don’t want anyone to know that I ever had anything to do with you. Just, no. Post a crappy lifting video and we’re no longer FB friends. In real life? Sure. Then we can talk about interesting things and but not about how your training has taken a Godzilla sized dump and you can’t figure it out. No.

No weightlifting or, god forbid, Press videos with thrown bars from overhead. Boom, you are e-dead to me. It makes me angry, like, over the top angry to see some douchey lifter PR an overhead lift and take more dedication and thought to slam the bar down ‘Outlaw’ style. If you don’t want to respect your lifting equipment, fine. But I’m not going to watch it. The energy that you’ve just put into the bar is that you don’t give a shit about it and I don’t want any part of it. It’s probably pretty kooky, I’ll blame it on the Hawaiian in me. Objects contain energy, energy that we put into it and that we hope to receive from it. A PR is to be celebrated. Happy dance; fist pump; drop on your knees and hulk tear your shirt off (make sure to have a sport’s bra on underneath please ladies if you’re in public), or PR hugs. PR hugs are my favorite. But to slam a bar down, even if it’s yours, makes me not like you. Probably not in real life either. To take joy in slamming a barbell down on the floor (yes, I’ve seen people do this in a press too. I wanted to smash their face into the wall. Ragemuch?) means that there is a fundamental difference in how we go through life. I’m not saying my way is right, god no. But I’m saying I don’t want anything to do with a person who does that. Byebye (stewardess style.)

Calling names. This is one of the biggest grievances I have with the internet. When in the world did it make it okay as an adult to call another adult a name? When? For those that know us, we have had problems with our neighbors since the 2nd day they moved in a year and a half ago. When one issue is seemingly resolved (or the police have told them they can’t complain about it anymore because they’re lying) they move on to another issue. It is my opinion that there will always be something because that’s the type of people they seem to be. Fine. Whatev dude. The recent issue is that they have requested, through a note they taped on their window facing our house, that we not snow blow onto their brick or windows (including their basement windows.) Well, the Snow Gods were good to us this weekend and gave us about a foot or more of snow. Thank you Snow Gods. While Matt and I were taking a shoveling/snow blowing coffee break yesterday morning outside (it was really quite beautiful out) the neighbor stopped and started yelling at us. I just yelled back (we were in the back of our driveway) to have a good walk; be safe; watch out for cars that I’d already noticed were blowing through the stop sign. See, this was my time. My coffee-peaceful-yeah it finally snowed, time. So I’ll drown out your crazy but only with good thoughts. Have a nice walk.

He called me a bitch (or a prick but that seems really weird for a man to call a woman a prick.)

Now, it is beyond me as to what kind of human being you are to call a grown woman a bitch as a grown man. Right in front of her husband. Who does that? I honestly cannot wrap my head around it. It’s just not done. That’s not who we are. That’s just not how we walk through life. It’s weird. It’s hostile. And it’s not okay. It’s just not okay. There is some gene of civility and honor missing from your DNA. (This guy is an elementary school teacher too. Goody.)

Same goes for the internet. There have been people I honestly like it real life who have chosen to go after others on the Facebook and call them names. I dunno, maybe it was uncomfortably lulz in the past? But not now. Now it’s sad. It’s sad that this is the pathetic society we’ve become. That we call someone we don’t know a ‘cunt’ because they disagree with a stand we’ve taken. God. What has happened to us? There is no amount of good, or funny, or sarcastic (which everyone knows I LOVE) that can make up for calling another human being a name. I can’t excuse it. I don’t want any part of it or your energy. Because no matter what else is there that is good, I’ll always know that you will resort to 9 year old playground bullying tactics and I don’t trust you. It honestly makes me sad. The only thing I can do is “unfriend” someone so that the energy doesn’t enter my feed anymore but I guess that’ll have to be enough.

At the rate I’m going, I’ll have about 40 friends on the Facebook and only follow five of them cuz they post funny puppy and panda videos..and Strongman Champions League. That’s it.

Look, I don’t need sunshine and walks on the beach all day every day. Real life happens and that nice thing about the Facebook is that we can connect with those we otherwise wouldn’t and send them some energy that contains healing, or fun, or congratulations, or just silly. We’ll celebrate with you when you kick butt at a Strongman contest and win the whole dang thing (TEBOW!!!) or send e-hugs when your dog is sick and celebrate when he’s back home safe and sound. Stuff like that. There is a lot of good to the whole internet thing. But this ugly that is there too, I don’t want any part of it.

Nope.

Leave bullying to bulls. Be human.

Training Log

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Friday Jams: Athletes Don’t Quit

Posted on January 30, 2015 by tosabarbell

Last night while watching the Big Fat Loser finale they were showing clips from the season. One contest was that the constestant’s had to push a bosu ball up a hill on the beach. Yes, I too felt like snickering as I typed that but these people have done nothing but get fatter in the last 20 years so to their credit, it was hard.

One woman was having a hard time and doing the “one step forward, three steps back” dealio when Bob the “Trainer Personality” screamed, “ATHLETES DON’T QUIT!!!!” Both Matt and I said quickly, “yes they do.” 

Yes. They. Do.

Here’s why. An ATHLETE is someone who has been training for a goal for quite some time. They have made their mistakes and learned from them. I.E. Not quitting when they should have. They have been conditioned to listen to their bodies and know fairly well when to push through and when to call it a day. ATHLETES listen to their coaches and if their coaches continue to present a program that results in failure or injury, they find new coaches. Why? Cuz ATHLETES ain’t got no time for that.

ATHLETES know when to go all out and when to save their strength. I remember reading a post a few years back from an up and coming Brit Strongman. He stated he was going try do a max effort yoke walk a week and a half out from a major contest. The best of the best (Terry and Loz) spoke up quickly, ‘don’t do it mate. You won’t recover for the contest.’ Smart guy didn’t. Well done.

See, Loz and Terry Hollands are ATHLETES. They are not out of shape maniac exercisers that have found a way out of obesity/weakness/whatever you’re looking for.

Please, can we stop throwing around the term ATHLETE to appease some sense of self that needs to be better than we actually are? If you are taking your life and health more seriously, you are doing great! GREAT JOB!! Your life will be better. Keep working. But you are not an athlete, you’re a dude losing weight. Now, of course, ATHLETE may come later. That’s awesome. But for now?

No. Just no. How many of you have seen those who have tried to get stronger and healthier give up because they have “failed” in their endeavor to become yet another stupid American “athlete?” Just be better. Be proud of your work to be better.

Gawd.

Call a jack a jack. Call a spade a spade. But always call a whore a lady. Their lives are hard enough, and it never hurts to be polite. 

Patrick Rothfuss

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Monday Bacon: Just Doin’ Work

Posted on January 19, 2015 by tosabarbell

steelwork

The other day, one of my clients asked me how my training was going and if there was anything specific I was training for these days. I actually had to give this some thought and after a minute I finally said, ‘my training is just training right now. Just doin’ work.’ 

It’s different for me this year. Last year I was dialed in with the Arnold Highland Games looming ahead. I’d watch weather reports much closer hoping I could find a day to go throw out in the snow without freezing in single digits temps. I’d find stones and throw them in a nearby parking lot for practice and when they’d break, I’d go find some more. I’d practice the weight over bar into snow banks and I can remember the slightly panicked feeling I’d have when I couldn’t find the weight. Yes, I knew it was there…somewhere. Butthe first time I had to dig and dig with my hand, I brought a small shovel after that just in case.

This year? This year I eased out of my 10×10’s in December without fanfare as hot yoga has kept me moving much better. I fit my Olympic lifts in once a week when I can as usual but my numbers have taken a dive compared to what I lifted in my early December meet. Totally normal considering the training load I’ve been under for the last two months.

I’ve gone twice out to Winner’s Edge in Pewaukee to drill the throws whereas last year I was doing this in early December on a weekly basis. In all honesty, my training right now is just very ‘meh.’ And I’m okay with that.

This is the time foundations are laid. It’s not sexy, it’s not exciting. It’s just work. Get your reps in. Do your practice. Don’t worry about an immediate payoff. The payoff comes later, much later. Late summer. Early fall. Some people are already throwing (well done Katie and the East team!!!) But not me.

I’m still hoping for a late Christmas miracle in that I get the nod to get my qualifying total and be able to lift at The Arnold. If I do, my weightlifting will become the focus of my training. I don’t know if it will happen or not, I hope so. I’d really love to lift at the Masters PanAmericans. But that’s out of my control right now so I just put in the work.

A little bit boring. A lotta bit ‘meh.’ But that’s okay. I’m not a child who needs constant stimulation or can’t focus on something longer than it takes to throw a bar down after a PR. Adults train. Sometimes for the future. Sometimes for a specific event. Sometimes just to stay as strong as possible for as long as possible. Just do the work. It’ll payoff when you need it. True story.

Faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase.

Martin Luther King, Jr.

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Monday Bacon: Mud Puddles

Posted on January 12, 2015 by tosabarbell

mudpuddles

Last Sunday, I woke up around 6am to a text from the daughter, who was scheduled to return home that day after a Minnesota New Years celebration with her friends. In general, middle of the night texts or calls are not good. Middle of the night SnapChats are usually entertaining, not calls. The one line text was to tell me that her friend since early middle school, Jacob Reno, had killed himself the evening before. My reply,

“Zandra. No.”

No. Not another Hutchinson suicide. Not again. And especially, not Reno. Just no. No. No. No.

As much as I want to rail on what is happening in this town that this is the 3rd suicide in 5 months time and WTF is going on that there is seemingly a veil of hopelessness for these young people; to do so would not give honor to Reno’s memory, and the way his friends are getting through this.

That is the story for today.

A passion of Reno’s was off roading. He and all of his friends are the epitome of boys just wanting to play in the mud. And as they got older, their toys (and their creativity) got better in allowing them to do so.

mudpuddles1

Anyways.

As you can see in the first picture above, Reno would put his jeep through just about everything it could survive. And some it couldn’t. Heh. Because of this, the jeep had been parked for a while with hopes of getting it up and running again to mud on in Appleton (Minnesota. Yes, there’s an Appleton, Minnesota. Who knew?) which is a popular off road area.

When the news spread throughout Reno’s friends of his passing, they, in search through their shock and grief for some meaning in all of this suddenly found a mission. Get Reno’s jeep up and running. And not only up and running, but spotless and beautiful. A ride befitting of one of the best friends they’ll ever have. And off they went.

Night and day, this crew worked. That they took a mud spattered vehicle that hadn’t been running in over a year to fully restored in just under 5 days gives us just a glimpse of the almost panicked drive to do something. Anything. Just do something to get through this.

mudpuddlesjeep

And they did. Actually twice. Here is Reno’s father in the restored Jeep. Beautiful. I was fortunate to watch them put the final touches on Thursday evening and get it running. Through their tears, and sobs, there were sad smiles. A job well done, giving purpose in spite of so many questions and sadness. I quietly stood off to the side in complete awe of these young people. When I walked in, there were some terse, stressed conversations in one corner. A little small town drama in another. But when the Jeep sprang to life, all of that stopped. All focus was on that Jeep. Cheers; more smiles; and many more tears. So happy with the accomplishment, so sad for it’s purpose. It was devastatingly beautiful to watch.

But, the ‘little boys who love to play in the mud’ quickly came out and they decided to take it for a spin (living out of town in the country has it’s advantages.) And who better to pilot the maiden voyage than Reno’s younger brother. They took off and conversation resumed around the garage. Suddenly, the door opened, and the jeep limped it’s way back in to more cheers; more laughter; and yes, more tears.

mudpuddlesjeep1

A blown tire, smooshed mirror and a roof rack gone (it took a couple of minutes to register that one) later and they quickly went back to work. It was something to see.

The next day the kids decided to salute  Reno’s memory by parking their trucks at the High School just like they did back in the day (which earned each of them a $140 ticket waiting for them after school. This time they had permission.) Heh. Everyone wanted in and it was really as festive as a sad occasion allows in 30 below windchill, Minnesota winter. All of the vehicles, including Reno’s truck AND his Jeep got parked as high up the snow bank as possible (yes, many were towed out afterwards.)

mudpuddlessnow

Another accomplishment. Something needed so much in times of such sadness. To the rest of the world, parking your trucks on a snowbank means nothing. To this group, it meant everything. Seeing his truck and his Jeep right along with everyone else’s…a moment to forget about this horrible nightmare.

mudpuddleshug

There were many, many moments all weekend long that showed this groups unity. As proud of them as I am, I ache for them. There is such pain. Too much pain. These kids have been through so much tragedy and now must walk through another. I worry that as “real life” of jobs and responsibilities set in and take over again that the togetherness that has seen them through this far, may be lost. That they forget how they came to honor Reno and grieve. Together. That small town dust ups will again carry too much meaning which causes more hurt feelings and a sense of alone. I worry that this group hug will be forgotten through hurt and processing grief.

I worry that my daughter, who is back home safe and sound (thankfully) but is so sad will live to bide her time until she is back with her friends and forget to fully live life. I worry for my son who is still there and at times, is just surviving each day. I worry for those who carry images in their minds of unimaginable horror instead of happy times with their friend. Those who carry guilt for an imagined part in Reno’s death. I worry that they’ll forget, in time, to keep checking on each other. And maybe more importantly, that they’ll forget to be honest with each other when life gets too hard and ask for help.

But in spite of the worry, I picture how they all came together to find purpose; to grieve; to laugh and cry; to give comfort to each other and Reno’s family; to remember; and yes, even to argue a little as they work out their own feelings and I feel hope. Hope that, in time, they will live full and amazing lives that honor the smiles of Reno and his memory.

mudpuddlesmain

And I tell ya what, I will never again pass a mud puddle without thinking of Reno’s smile…and that picture of him on top of his Jeep in the mud. And I may even jump in one, if only to reach out a little bit to the memory of a boy who loved the mud.

All these people live as long as you remember ’em. 

Fried Green Tomatoes

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