Your Good is Our Crappy.

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But there’s protein right?

Generally speaking, I’m not fond of kitchy, glib sayings. Our Warm-up Is Your Workout. Good gawd, can you get any more douche? Did you know people actually wear t-shirts that say this? Srsly? Srsly. Jesus is the reason for the season, shut up. Christmas means different things to different people and putting a glib slogan to it is stupid. You’re just really not very clever. Dr. Seuss was clever, he rhymed with style..and characters that probably took an acid trip to create. Good on ‘im.

But I got to thinking the other day, if I WERE to create a stupid slogan, it would be Your good is our crappy. Yup. To all those people (like, 90% of non-training people I know), when you say you’re eating “good” it’s actually so crappy that even on a cheat day (which I don’t believe in doing), we still wouldn’t touch it. Sometimes “good” just means that your food only came from a drive-thru window half of the week instead of all of the week (I once had a client who had talked herself into that. That she only bought one drive-thru meal where she usually buys and eats two. Srsly.)  Sometimes “good” means that only one row of frozen thin mints were eaten instead of the whole box. (Don’t freeze your thin mints? My god what’s wrong with you. That is all kinds of delicious!)

“Good” is subjective. Meaning, if eating garbage all day, day in and day out, is normal to you then that one piece of real food you’re consuming doesn’t mean you’re having a “good” day, it means your diet is a chemical shit storm and the forecast is most likely more shit and that 1 ounce of real chicken isn’t going to make any kind of dent YO. Yuck.

This also applies to feeling “good.” Feeling ‘not sick’ is actually not the same as feeling “good.” Feeling strong with a headache is not the same as feeling weak with a headache. Strong allows you to cope and walk through life with less than ideal efficiency than a weaker, untrained person. This carries over to organs, connective tissue, etc. If you are putting demands on your body that your lack of muscular strength cannot support, your connective tissue is at risk. Duh. But we don’t think about that. We just think think about keeping our bodies as strong as possible as a whole through training and food and letting them do their thing.

In almost all cases, strong will function far better than weak. Even in disease. But where the only “disease” suffered is weakness and crappy food, ya, your best is our crappy.

Yuck.

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Before you call yourself a Christian, Buddhist, Muslim, Hindu, or any other theology, learn to be a human first.

Shannon L. Alder

Training Log

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This Is Your Big Comeback!

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My first weightlifting meet in over 3 years was a complete blast. A quick 12 minute drive to downtown (some call the area the 5th Ward and some call it Walker’s Point. Milwaukee is really confusing) followed by an incredibly easy and smooth check and weigh in got the day off to a great start. The ladies at the desk were very nice and friendly and the lifting area was very “fight club.” I’d say more on that but, ya know, the first rule of fight club is, ya know.

A beautiful, brand new platform that initially I was a bit concerned about after seeing how shiny it was on the FaceBook. Shiny and slippery platforms aren’t really what we want to lift on but it was very nice and solid. Footing would be good. Brew City CF owners Murph and Jeremy are very nice and enthusiastic young men who are doing good work furthering weightlifting in Wisconsin. The groups were nice sized and warming up correctly in a group of 17 was a bit challenging but fun. All of the ladies were incredibly nice and supportive, very Highland Games compared to the snarky and bitchy I got used to down in Texas.

Our 69, 75, and 75+ group was pretty evenly split in that the first half did most of their attempts before we opened which cleared up the warm up platforms nicely. Murph and Jeremy put a computer for us to keep an eye on the lifting and hopefully, if we’re paying close enough attention, we’d get downstairs in plenty of time to lift.

As we were standing around and checking the screen, the eventual winner of the 69kg group asked where I was opening. After telling her 55kg, she said I looked solid in warm ups and will do great. Very sweet. All I know is that her name is Jayme (not even sure if that’s correct spelling) and she was a very good lifter and very good person. She asked how long I’d been competing and I told her this was my first meet in over 3 years. Her reply? “This is your big comeback!” Heh. Very sweet.

And I guess it was. A big comeback in a small pond anyway, heh.

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Lifting was good, solid hits. My last snatch attempt at 63 should have been there, I’ve done it in practice. I let some external noise get to me and that’s MyBad. The one thing I wasn’t prepared for at this meet was the noise. Tons of conversations going on around the room, phones ringing, and people playing youtube right in front of the platform isn’t the norm at weightlifting meets and I let it annoy me. It annoys me that I got annoyed.

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Walking up to each lift, I remembered some advice I got from Michael Dickens down in Texas before my final attempt at trying to make a 15′ WOB. He told me I needed to relax, smooth out the swingies prior to the final pull. THAT’S when it’s time to unleash the power, not before. He was right and I hit the 15′. So applying it to the platform was easy, instead of tightening up once I walked up to the chalk, I waited until the final squeeze before pushing away from the platform. Disco, they felt awesome.

My jerks in practice had been a bit soft here and there and I wanted to make sure I didn’t give the judges any need for interpretation so it was important to me that I stuck each one. My final at 82kg was so solid I was immediately kicking myself that I didn’t go to 84. Damn.

But I stuck to my goal, which was to get an 85kg total which was the qualifying total for Master’s Nationals and the Master’s Pan American’s. The Nationals are already full so I had my eye on the June meet in Georgia. Also, I wanted to have fun with Weightlifting. My time down in Texas was so stressful and I just didn’t have fun with my lifting. Obviously. I looked back at my numbers and my paltry 114kg best total is almost not real after lifting a smooth 142kg total last weekend, three years older.

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OH! On age, I was definitely the geriatric of the group. In fact, when Jayme’s name was called for her first attempt and she was still upstairs in her sweats and warm up shirt (we couldn’t hear anything up there so it was important to either watch the screen or have your coach running to grab you) I hot stepped it upstairs and said excitedly, “you’re up luv, get movin’.” (I later told her that the situation brought out the mom in me. Heh.) She made her lift but paid closer attention after that.

That I tied for 2nd  (but took 3rd due to weighing in heavier) against these young guns was pretty satisfying I’ll say. That 3rd place medal is treasured, probably more than these young men and women know. After lifting, Matt and I ran for coffee and a snack before coming back so I could referee for the big guys session. Which was also a lot of fun and we saw some nice lifts. We also saw some pretty intense silliness. Screaming, throwing the bar down so violently that pieces of the brand new platform went a’flyin. That doesn’t work in the real world, I wanted to say. But I think I’ll let the wanna be showmen figure that out for themselves. Matt called it junior varsity, I think that’s appropriate. I just think it’s a shame when people idolize other lifters because of their antics rather than their results. Misguided youth I guess. There are worse things in life.

Overall the day was awesome and I’m thankful for it and for sharing it with my hubby. There are few places I go in life where anyone has a Bigg-er cheerleader than me. True story.

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OH! On qualifying, I haven’t yet. I need to lift these numbers in a National meet and I need to do that before registrations open for the Master’s Pan Americans or I won’t make it. I’ll do my best but I also realize that it may not be in the cards for me this year. But I hope it is.

I really hope it is.

My dreams were at once more fantastic and agreeable than my writings.

Mary Shelley

Training Log

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5 Times a Year

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We’ve been talking a lot this past week on people being sick. Like, all the time (it seems.) I honestly don’t think I’ve been around so many people that get sick so often as I have here in Wisconsin. Children throwing up is common here (common, not normal.) Bigg’s niece and nephews barf all the time. All. The. Time. It’s bizarro world. I can not think of 5 times all three of my kids have thrown up in their lifetimes (the 21 year olds boozin’ it up doesn’t count.)

Zandra puked during the landing into Texas before the first grade. Oz puked on the plane landing from a 7 hour flight home from Maui. I think Za got motion sickness in the car once and puked into our Moo Bag (our Moo Bag was a cow patterned trash thingy from Target much like a lunch bag. We’ve gone through many but they’re always called the Moo Bag.) Zac is made of steel, which is good. OH! Za just puked again last weekend after getting her flu shot but felt fine by evening. So I’ve thought of 3 times, one includes last weekend. There may be more but I don’t think so.

Now, I will say that my Zandra tends to be more sick than the rest of us. She gets run down which annoys the ever livin’ out of me but I whill say since she’s been here, she’s doing better. I suppose I didn’t take awesome care of myself either in my early 20’s, I’m just heartier than her. Heh. But for the most part, we just don’t accept sick. Of course, part of the Grandpa factor plays into that but sick is sick. It just doesn’t roll around here.

Bigg has longtime friends around here who are always sick. And by always, I mean I have never seen them go more than a month without being sick. There’s some kind of sickly, sweaty, pallor that comes over most middle aged cheeseheads here. Too much booze; too many cheesecurds; not enough training; not enough sleep. It’s pretty gross.

So we got to talking last night about someone else we know who has been sick at least 5 times in the past year. 5 times!!! WTF!? Matt’s response was even more surprising to me, he didn’t think that was all that uncommon. In fact, he thought he and I had been sick around 5 times in the last year.

Actually, no we haven’t. Now, I’m not talking about an errant headache or a cough or feeling rundown post wedding and traveling. You take an advil and go about your day. True story. I’m talking about, sick in that you need to call into work; or can’t train; or can’t be around people because your kid(s) has just barfed for the umpteenth time in the past 12 months. Sick. Real sick (by the way, if you’re sick, real sick, don’t train. Your body needs something you’re not giving it and your fellow training partners know that your body has something they DON’T want. Duh.) Sick, you need to go to the doctor sick. And no, don’t be sick for two weeks straight and finally suck it up at 11:00pm at night and head to the ER. That’s not what it’s for. You actually adult up and head to urgent care at 8am. Duh again.

Anyways. I have learned that sick is very subjective and used altogether way too often. You don’t feel perfect? Then you must be sick. And oh by the way, one thing I’ve noticed with weak people is that when they begin to feel “sick”, they throw in the towel and determine that they’re sick.

Not us. Don’t feel 100%? What do we do…more water, better quality food, no hooch, better sleep. Say no to extracurricular activities. Adult up and take care of yourself so you’re feeling fine by morning. No sickness here, not allowed. I’ll fight that shit every way possible. Sick? Nope. Not me. Not gonna happen. Tired? Take a nap. Tummy ache? Plop Plop Fizz Fizz and be on your way.

Ya know what really annoys me about people who are sick all the time? That they never look to the WHY of being sick all the time. As if they are some random victims in this whole health thing. Uhhhhh, what food is constantly making your kid barf? What exercise (COUGHrunnersCOUGH) is breaking you down so much that you can’t find a silly little cough that’s “going around.”

OH! That’s another thing. Stop fucking saying that “it’s going around.” My god, ya know who was immune to “what’s going around?” John Travolta when he was in a bubble. That’s it. We all live out there. If you are around kids that are bringing in, gasp, germs? Guess what, you adult the fuck up and start taking care of yourself. Being some powerless victim while you sugar and booze up to the germs of the world doesn’t make you a victim, it makes you stupid. Congrats, here’s your sign…

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Anyways.

Chances are that we will all go out in public at some point. Chances are that we will come into contact with a germ. If your immune system is so FRA-GEE_LAY that you can’t handle that without “catching something” , then you either are diseased or you are not taking care of yourself. Chances are it’s the latter. That’s on you luv. Sorry I’m not sorry.

But 5 times? That’s not normal. It may be common, but it’s not normal. Knock it off. Sick sucks. It’s far easier to head that off at the pass rather than lay in bed and let it take hold of you for a week or more. Just ask sick people who don’t like to be sick. Random acts of disease happen and once they’re better, they will do most anything not to get sick again.

True story.

Only one thing could’ve dragged me away from the soft glow of electric sex gleaming in the window.

Ralphie as Adult

Training Log

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Monday Bacon: Not Too Sweet

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It is amusing to me and the Bigg man when people ask me to taste something and after asking how sweet it is, their instant reply is, “Not too sweet at all.” Matt will taste it, look at me, and shake his head. That’s a no-go.

Cuz I don’t do sweet. Scratch that. What I mean is that if I DO do (doo doo;) sweet, it better come in the form of Chocolate cake with frosting or pumpkin bars with cream cheese frosting. True story. I can eat the shit out of those. But then I feel no bueno. So I stay away.

I’ve tried to locate a solid number of sugar the average American eats each day but the numbers are all over the place. The one thing they DO have in common is that it’s a lot. Up to 23+ teaspoons of added sugar a day and/or up to 100 pounds of sugar per year. 23/100. Whut?

I look at the foods above and think, ‘well no one actually eats that crap on a daily basis right?’ But they do. We served up some Capri Suns with water on Saturday because the 16g of sugar per serving seemed a bit better than the 27g of sugar from the local brewery’s sodas. But not much. No one eats cereal anymore right? RIGHT!?!

Wait, whut. They do? Cereal; sodas; syrup; bread; pizza; desserts, etc. All those things I haven’t ate in years save for a bite here or there, you mean to tell me people are still eating them? FoShizzle???

Sodas and fruit juices. Really? That happens? Well okay, we did a Black Friday breakfast last weekend at LakeFront Brewery and one of their drinks was a beermosa which consisted of their Wheat Monkey mixed with OJ. Hokay, these guys have been waiting in line and drinking/sharing beer since 5am, give them a ‘betes juice. (‘betes being The Diabetes. What you get from too much sugar and shit.) But these guys have been drinking beer already for 3+ hours so they need something (anything) diluted. Drink up the ‘betes.

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We were at the Iowa vs. Wisconsin football game a couple of weeks ago with some of the Wanat crew including Matt’s 8 year old nephew who loves everything Wisconsin and really loves football. He did awesome (he doesn’t like when his team loses, he gets very crabby and will cry. That’s ok, my cousin Paul used to do that too and he turned into one of my favorite people on the planet. Trent will grow out of it and be awesome.) Anyways. He did great at the game until sometime in the 3rd quarter when he started getting very jumpy and lippy and basically made me ask what was going on where his mood changed so dramatically from the rest of the game. The answer? Coke. He got a Coke from his Auntie and it affected him that quickly, that dramatically. Then in the 4th quarter he crashed and he and Auntie took the short walk back home. By the time we got home he was zombified on the couch. Poor kid.

But wait, how about healthy snacks like yogurt (I hate yogurt, always have. I tried eating it when I was younger because I thought I’d get a body like the girls on tv but I only got hungrier so ate disgusting yogurt AND a real food snack. I guess I finally realized why it didn’t work) and granola bars. And the healthy cereals. Ummmm, they don’t exist. At all.

We saw a commercial the other night about two parents who put their kids to bed and insinuated like they’re about to get it on. Instead they played their kids video games and ate the Fruit Loops. Fruit Loops. THAT’s what you want to do when your kids go to bed? But at least they’re being honest about what they’re putting in their mouth. Cuz Fruit Loops are tasty and that Kashi High Protein (and by high protein they mean low protein and high sugar) tastes like cardboard and shit mixed in a box. Bring on the Fruit Loops. I’d actually rather eat a cereal with marshmallows in it though, like Lucky Charms. Love me some Lucky Charms.

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Heyyyyyy ‘merika, ya know what’s healthy about cereal? General Mills’ marketing budget. But that’s all. Ya know why Nature Valley granola bars are marketed with beautiful scenery and hikers? Cuz they need the carbs to keep going (but careful when that fiber from multiple granola bars hits the belly cuz you’ll be digging holes along the mountain side all afternoon.) True story.

Hey, ya know who could eat like this?

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Ya, Lumberjacks. Ya know why?

Cuz these guys wouldn’t be eating again for a very long time but working hard in the wet and cold all day with a sandwich and potato break and guess what else, you rarely see pictures of old time fat lumberjacks.

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My Grandpa Eric Hedbom worked in the logging camps of northern Minnesota. I’m guessing he’s not in this picture but I still like to think that I can see a little bit of a past he had.

So, back to the sugar feast that is current ‘merica. Since we (and by we I mean you) love the sugar added into everything and since we (and by we I mean us) pretty much keep to meat and potatoes and a tablespoon of Peter Pan peanut butter and cheese (and dry red wine;) it means that you have a faulty compass on what’s “not too” sweet. Does it taste like frosting? Kind of sweet but not really. Does it taste like hamburger with a few shakes of curry powder on it? Yuck, can’t taste anything. But then someone comes along who doesn’t eat 100# of sugar a year and our versions of ‘not too’ sweet will be completely different. As in, your ‘not too’ sweet is my inedible.

Syrupy alcohol drinks? Too sweet. Semi-dry Mead? Waaaaaay too sweet (but a very sweet prize;) Most Stouts? Too sweet. Any local wines? Fuggihtaboutit. A sliver of leftover pie before we threw them all away last night? Heartburn for an hour and a half before bedtime. Too sweet.

What’s your compass? If you can take a sip of German wine (our trip to Berlin this month has been postponed so I’m all sad and about German shit right now) and it doesn’t taste sweet, you’re in the 100# a year range.

I bet your drink the ‘betes juice too, eh?

It’s not the extremes and the treats that are the problem. It’s the everyday. 

Jamie Oliver

Training Log

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