Monday Bacon: Amazon vs. Drug Addict

Posted on October 20, 2014 by tosabarbell

I saw a post the other day by a gym owner friend of mine down in Atlanta. Heidi mentioned the advantage young girls have today by having women who appear strong to look up to. This sparked another conversation with a friend of mine about body issues when we were young girls.

It got me thinking on who MY role models were growing up and how it affected my body image. I think until about the 9th grade, it was this girl…

rolemodel2

Yup. Wonder Woman. I’ve written in the past about getting comic books on the way up to the Cabin. Damn I wish I still had those. Not because they’re worth any money, but because illustrators drew her strong and powerful without the slutty aspect she has now. But strong, she just looked strong. Big shoulders (check); small waist (I don’t know if I’ve ever had one of those though); big legs (check); boobs (check); cool airplane (when I’m on an airplane I pretend it’s invisible.) True story. I’m pretty sure I gave out some of these on Valentine’s Day too:

rm1

She was also smart and fierce. I liked that. Anyways.

Around the 9th grade, something happened to change my view of how young women should look and my body image took a turn for the worst.  This:

rm2

My mom bought me a subscription to Seventeen magazine. Before that the only magazine I’d ever read was Sports Illustrated. I think she was trying to fem me up. While I was a tomboy, I still curled my feathered bangs and wore too much eye make up so I didn’t really think I needed femming up. But a style change was probably necessary since I ran around in sneakers and sweats most of the time (so nothing’s really changed.) Suddenly though, I noticed that the ideal body type (according to Seventeen magazine) was tall and thin. Two things I never was nor ever will be.

But I didn’t know that then. All I knew was short and curvy was what I had to deal with and that wasn’t cutting it. So how do I get tall and thin? Keep reading Seventeen magazine I guess. Also, the clothes. I didn’t have the clothes that Seventeen magazine said I needed to start school off right. I don’t think the models of Seventeen magazine had a Pastor for a dad (ever heard of a rich Pastor? No, Joel Osteen isn’t a pastor, he’s a celebrity. Like the Kim Kardashian of the Christians.) So what I lacked in funds I made up for in creativity by hitting the bins at Ragstock (there actually was a real Ragstock before they went into the Ugly Christmas sweater business ya know) and putting my own twist on things. Not really what my mom had in mind; however; she did like that I could buy all of my school clothes shopping for about $48.93. (I’m still a consignment shopper unless I really feel like splurging and hit the new clothes racks of TJ Maxx.)

Anyways. I neither looked like the models or had the money to support looking like the models. And that messed with me for a while. Suddenly confident Wonder Woman’ish Jules wasn’t so confident. And ya know what? That get’s my ire up. That I let those stupid magazines mess with me.

I started looking around me and compared myself to other girls. We had a few that were very Seventeen magazine. One comes to mind whose name was Kelli Ferrick. Long legs, the best Jordache and Gloria Vanderbilt jeans, perfectly feathered Farrah hair. Tall. She was tall too. Of course. She may have been nice. I dunno. I hated her. She was everything that I would never be and I’m just not very proud that at one point in my life that mattered to me.

But then I went to college in Nebraska and a girl by the name of Jill Fox (her friends called her Fill Jox, I thought it was cute) saved me.  Though Jill and I were on friendly terms, I never really knew her. But my college work study was in the Athletic office so I was in the athletic complex about as much as I was in class, although I actually went to work and didn’t skip like class. I got to watch many of the athletes, especially the T&Frs practice. Jill was a thrower, taller than me (who isn’t) and strong looking. Sure she was bigger than the sprinters but she just looked strong. Ahhhhh, THAT’S what used to be important to me.

Strong. Fierce and strong. Like this:

rm3

I grabbed hold of that body image and never looked back.

Oh sure, there are moments where the “I wish” game is played. In Scotland when I first ran into friend and new World Champ Mona Malec, I looked up at her and literally wondered if I were standing in a hole. WTF! I asked her if she had grown taller since Enumclaw. FoShizzle. But at the end of the day, this is what I have to deal with so I’ll try to make the most out of it. Including getting it into better shape when this season is over (six days. Six days.) That I can do, be a better me.

I never bought my daughter a Seventeen magazine subscription and when my mom asked if she should as one of Zandra’s Christmas gifts I told her no, we can find something more appropriate for my tomboy who straightens her hair and wears too much eye make up. She’s good. Has a good body image for the most part (when she was in first grade she told me once that her gymnastics leotard made her look fat. I laughed. But I let her wear a tshirt and shorts after that.) OH! I will say that it’s not my mom’s fault for getting me a Seventeen magazine subscription. So I don’t want to hear any, Oooooo so you blame your mom, bullshit. The gift came from the right place. I know that. Live and learn.

But strong is still in. It’s still worthy of being mentor to young girls. And Seventeen models? Well, at least one above did really well for herself. Until she became a drug addict and died in a bathtub. I would probably consider that the opposite of strong. No thanks.

The mark of a great sportsman is not how good they are at their best, but how good they are at their worst.

Martina Navratilova

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Actualllllllyyyy, That Hasn’t Happened In The History of History

Posted on October 14, 2014 by tosabarbell

lowT

Driving on our way home from Indy (and I have no idea why) I went on a little kick of saying in that little annoying “I’m right” way of drawing out your words, “Actualllyyyyy, that has literally never happened.” I crack myself up. True story. I’m sure it wasn’t annoying at all to Matt though cuz he loves me so I’m cute no matter what I do. ‘Nother true story.

We also talked about Steroids. WHUT? Ya, I said that. Scary eh?

Mention steroids in public and you quickly see two different groups of people with strong (albeit ignorant) opinions on what that means.   A) Those who believe that anyone who takes Testosterone will end up a Lyle Alzado with rampant roid rage before you finally die a shriveled up example of what you once were.  B) Those who believe that ANYONE taking testosterone is a CHEATER and looking for an easy way to win.

Ugh. First off, that CHEATER thing annoys the ever livin’ out of me. Because the majority of people are not using the word correctly. Yes, if you are in UST&F and they have written in their rules that you may not take A, B, and 3 because it is banned and then you take it,  you have broken their rules. You will be punished if you’re caught. However; if you take C, D, and 4 which is okay but is made up of a compound including B, you’re fucked. You’ve broken the rules. You may be punished if you’re caught. If the self righteous of the world need to throw a banner out saying they’re a cheater, okay. You’re obnoxious but okay. Cheating is correct when breaking the rules.

However! If you believe that taking A, B, and/or 3 is giving that athlete a significant advantage over all the “other” (yes, there is a reason “other” is in quotes and if you don’t know why then you’re sillier then you appear) non-positive athletes, then you’re a silly person. Your opinion is stupid and invalid. Because the reality of sports is…there is no even playing field. It doesn’t exist. If you believe this you really have no idea how high level athletics work.

There are people who can afford better coaches. There are people who learn and retain cues better. There are people with a 36″ vertical jump and those who compete with a 31″ vertical jump. There are those who have the luxury of training and practicing and not working. There are those who are starving athletes who thankfully now have GoFundMe to keep them going. There is China who will throw you dead in the river when you stop performing and grab the next in line. There are those that can join the NFL and do just fine and those that can not handle the influx of minor fame and large amounts of signing bonus and blow their chance before they even get their career off the ground.

There are those athletic groups of people who are short (we need a support group really.) We don’t get a handicap cuz we’re short. We suck it up and carry on.

Anyways. Wanting an even playing field in sports is not going to happen. Stop saying that. Wanting to succeed IN SPITE of an uneven playing field is a mind set that will keep you going for a long, long time. And that includes testosterone at some point. Why? Because many of these fringe sports include old guys. And by old? I mean 30. Yes. 30. People, there is a reason that Low T clinics are popping up all over ‘merika. Because men do not feel good on Low T. They become whiney; have low energy and drive;  gain weight, like girl weight not beer gut weight; they wear skinny jeans and scarves. And gym goers aren’t safe either. I’ve actually known quite a few men who train, are in their 20’s and have Low T. They pop over to the T clinic and feel better within a week. Huh, I guess if I could, I’d like to feel better by replacing a hormone that I ALREADY OWN but just at a too low level.

One of the first things I talk about with new clients, male and over 30, is asking them to get their T checked if they are showing symptoms of it being low. And I’m always right. Always. My advice is to get a prescription if you want to go that route and rectify the situation immediately but I do understand this is personal and I respect their choice if they’ve bought into the Government’s propaganda and think they’ll die if they get their T back up to what it was when they felt better.

What I WON’T respect is the self righteous attitude of those who think men wanting to thrive in an imperfect environment (being life, duh!) are trying to CHEAT their way through fringe sports. Shut up. First off, holier than though attitudes will always get my ire up (I like saying ‘ire up.’ It sounds nicer than pissed off.) Second off, you’re wrong. Cuz ya know what?

Taking testosterone has actually never, in the history of history made someone so good that they’ve CHEATED their way into a Championship. Grow up. Doesn’t happen. And if you believe that if all you did was take some T and suddenly you would blast past all those ahead of you and win, well, ya know… Actuallllyyyyy, that hasn’t happened in the history of history.

Ya know why you didn’t win? Cuz you’re not good enough, that’s why. Hurts doesn’t it? Tell me about it, I have a couple 2nd place finishes this year that hurts too. Not being good enough to win hurts, let’s all be adult about it and accept it. And then practice some more to try to fix it. TRY TO FIX IT. But stop whining about cheaters, it’s a sure sign of Low T and I’ll assume there’s not a clinic in your town you can pop down to and I’ll feel bad for you but not really.

You wouldn’t have won if we’d beaten you.

Yogi Berra

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Monday Bacon: 12 Days

Posted on October 13, 2014 by tosabarbell

finishline

This weekend in Indianapolis wrapped up what has been a very long season…for one of us. But not me.

Early this summer, Matt and I threw in Fort Wayne, Indiana at Mike Huth’s Games and being there introduced us to a whole new group of awesome folks to throw with. Oh sure, there were a few familiar faces like Dawn Higgins (it is ALWAYS a treat to share a field with Dawn) and Ross and Victoria Bunchek but being around the Mills gang, O’Conner,  and Mike’s family was new for us and we’re very excited to see them all again. Last year I finished the season in Kirksville, MO which was ALSO tons of fun and I even got to spend some time with my BFF since the 7th grade but we decided to go east this year instead of south.

Also, this:

indy

One of our favorite Craft brews is 3 Floyds in Munster, Indiana. Matt checked the map for a quick Indy route and said, ‘WHOA, we go right by this place. Let’s stop.’ And I said, ‘ya, buddy.‘ First off, having one of your favorite beers right out of the tap is nothing short of magical. We also noticed a big line in the off sale line and thought, ‘huh, something good must be selling.’ Yup.

indy1

Zombie Dust. We happened upon the brewery on the day they released cases of one of the best beers I’ve ever had (I had two just at lunch.) They had a two case max purchase rule but we only had room in the car for one. Damn. The good news is that we now know how easy it is to get there and we’ll be back. For sure.

As good as the beer was, the food was equally as mouth watering. The BBQ sammich I had could rival any Texas bbq (yup) and it almost brought tears to my eyes. The atmosphere is incredibly festive and even the music is old school…

indy2

…vinyl. Awesome. The heavy metal was played at a level where you could enjoy it, but still have a perfectly fine conversation. OH! When I brought out Gamesminion and asked our bartender for a shot of he and the taps, he told us about THEIR version of Games Minion. His name is Butcher Jesus and he travels the globe drinking beer and eating good food. I saw some pics of him, he’s cool. He can hang.

It was an awesome stop and set the tone right there for an amazing weekend, no matter what happens on the field.

On to Indy. Arriving around dinner time is much better than arriving around 1:30 am which is when we rolled into Ft. Wayne last June to throw for the first time with this group. We found a chill place to have a sammich for dinner and grabbed some drinks to take back to the hotel. OH! It was raining off and on during the evening and I was NOT excited about the idea of throwing in the wet and mud again on Saturday. Luckily when we got up, the sun was shining and it turned out to be a beautiful, October day.

The Games was tons of fun. Tents surrounding the throwing field with Clans; Beer; and Pies (which of course I didn’t get again. One of these days I’m going to get one of those meat pies when offered!) The crowd was really quite awesome. There are a lot of these Games where you just kind of do your thing and don’t get to interact much, especially when you have 60 athletes and need to be off the field by 4:45 for the awards parade. But everyone was so friendly and you instantly got a feeling of appreciation for your work from them. It was very cool.

Throwing one last time this year with Dawn, Tracey, Ashley, Elissa,  and Amanda; peeking over and watching Matt turn a caber or toss the sheaf over the bar; getting glimpses of Jeremy Gillingham either toss a stone or trash talk Matt (heh); hearing Mike Huth on the microphone ask Matt why “that girl” just gave him a kiss. Meeting new throwing friends AND seeing the dragon that Elissa’s grandpa got painted on his bald spot. That was lulz. ALL of this along with throwing one last time for the Huth’s who passed the torch over to John O’Connor for future Games. Oh sure, they’ll still be around but in a more supportive role instead of  throwing the whole party and John O’Connor will be great leading us throwers.

But I’ll say this, to be there for the Huth’s last one will go down as a special moment of the season. This is only the second time we’ve thrown for them but when you meet people who are so good; so fun; and take such good care of us from start to finish…well, you know you’ve been a part of something special. And I’m so thankful for it. It was a great day.

indy3

As for the throwing part, some ups and downs. Both Matt and I are hobbling into this off season as his heel is also giving him some trouble after about 12 hours of sanding windows for repainting. Ups were a 17’1″ twenty-one pound WOB. Downs were not hitting 18′ on the sheaf. Sure it was wet and kept sticking to the forks on us, but still. Turning the big dog Caber was tons of fun but struggling in the distance events was a buzzkill (but not really cuz I didn’t have my first beer until the Caber. Thanks again Amy!!!)

I learned a few things too. For example, when we’re flying from event to event with no break, plan accordingly with better food. I eventually had a banana but it was probably about 4 or 5 hours after breakfast. Unacceptable. Especially when we drove and I had plenty of opportunity to plan better. I need good snacks and lighter sandwiches that will help keep me feeling strong. More water although I was hitting the port O potty enough so maybe I was okay there (TMI? Not even close;) Better food the night before and breakfast. I strayed off the beaten path for breakfast and will avoid that in the future. Good meat scramble, some fruit, and a pancake. That gets the engines burning hot and stays hot for a while longer.

Next stop (last stop), Texas.

As excited as I am to finish out in Texas, I’m honestly looking forward to just being finished. March 2nd, that was the first Games of the season. In a snowstorm. With a fire alarm getting us out of bed and out of our hotel room the night before. It’s been quite a ride. Celebrating seeing our Games family again; meeting new friends; travels to the PNW to spend time with real family and more Games fun (which we’re hoping to expand next year if we are able to get into the Portland Games.) Of course Scotland, even MORE new friends from all points of the globe. It’s been so amazing and I kind of feel bad for wishing it over.

But I do. I’m tired and ya know what? I don’t wanna practice anymore (yes, I almost whined when I typed that.) Some things are clicking and I LIKE practicing that stuff. But many things still aren’t and though I know in time they will, they’re not and I’m just tired of not throwing those stupid hammers better. Or hitting a better open stone. Yup, when the whining starts it’s time to finish up. Two weeks. But for those two weeks? I’m on it. Best food. Keep moving with morning walks. Light training. Drills, drills, drills. Keeping actual throwing reps to a minimum since they’re wearing me out more right now. Good sleep (well, good for me anyway.) Stretch and roll. All in.

12 Days. I just need 12 more days.

Matt: So to summarize?

Me: To summarize…Windmills. Ebola.

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Snake Oil

Posted on October 7, 2014 by tosabarbell

snakeoil

I recently read a Q&A where a 6′ female who works out using CF weighing 150# with 14% bodyfat was worried that she was fueling herself with too many carbs and wanted to switch over to burning fat instead. BUT when she tried to do it on her own, she became violently ill.

Duh.

First off, why isn’t her coach telling her she needs to gain some weight and body fat? A female with 14% body fat is extremely thin and truth be told, I would automatically believe some type of eating and exercise disorders are at play here. I’ve trained women who are very thin, it takes an extreme amount of patience and teamwork to get them comfortable with eating more on a daily basis. But to let it go and just take their money is unacceptable.

As is continuing to take money off an obese person who, for many various reasons, just can’t log that food and lose weight. Ever know a CF’r who remains overweight the entire time they “hit the box”? I have. Many, and it boggles my mind how they are not sat down and given a stern talking to. As in, “Look! (every stern talking to starts with the word ‘LOOK’) we want you here, you contribute to the community and you need us too (it’s okay to admit that folks need the gym. The gym is supposed to be a good place so it’s allowed.) But I can’t help but notice (due to the fact that we make every client log their workout, EVERY TIME!) that your workouts continue to be scaled without much improvement and your body composition has not changed in the 9 months you’ve been here (you don’t need to be a fucking dietary scientist to use your eyes and see that there have been NO changes!) and we need to start discussing whether or not this is the best place for you.

Uncomfortable eh? My first experience (last too, shocker) coaching in a CF setting (yes, I’m picking on this genre right now but don’t worry, I let loose on the WAC plenty around here too) involved a very nice, mid-western couple. A successful accountant and attorney, one son. She a bit soft and very weak, he a bit shorter and obese. After showing up together on a Tabata squat night, I got a talking to by the owner telling me it is not okay to make a wife count reps for a husband because it puts her in a role of authority over him.

Huh? Uhhhhhh, okay but I was on alert that this may not be the place for me. Cuz in my mind I’m thinking (WHATTHEEVERLASTINGFUCK is that about?! SRSLY? Your dick is so small that you can’t handle your wife no repping you on a foking air squat? FUK!) But okay, it could be I’m completely skewed coming from a strength background. No problem. After that they usually came separately but work schedules seemed to contribute to that. One thing I’ll say for husband, he was a worker. He worked harder than 80% of the others there. But there was never any change in his body composition and when I approached the topic, he clammed up. One day wife was on her own and seemed in a mood to talk and told me that when he comes home from CF he eats a full bag of Doritos and a 2L bottle of soda and THEN eats a crappy dinner. Ummmkay. Why?

My question baffled her. Well, cuz he’s hungry. Me: No, why do you even buy that crap after all these months? She: Cuz he get’s mad at me if I don’t. Ummmm, huh? My advice to the owner was to fire him. WHAT? Yup. You keep taking his money and he actually eats worse by doing your workouts because it gives him justification to eat crap since he just worked out. Well, that was out of the question. So I had to pull out my trump card.

He doesn’t want to be here. He hates it and the only reason he comes (yes, it’s a horrid thing that I was made aware of this) is that his wife gives sexual favors to get him there. Hey, ya know what kind? No? Guess what, I DO! Fok people, don’t tell your trainers this shit. It haunts us and we don’t get paid enough to be haunted. I even got the story of what went wrong when he used too much Icy/Hot and she…well anyways I’m getting off topic.

Needless to say, I didn’t last long there. Mostly though because it was a long drive for me and in true CF fashion, they didn’t pay me enough. But still, I quickly realized that just taking people’s money to keep the lights on wasn’t for me.

Anyways, back to this article. Of course Mark Sisson (one of my absolute favorite blogs) gave his version of a stern talking to (he’s a lot nicer than me it seems) of the fact that OP’r does need to gain some fat and cut down on a WOD type of workout and add strength training or walks. He’s smart.

He also included visual aides, I’m a sucker for visual aids. I’ve seen these before but they always are interesting to me, BF percentage pictures.

snakeoil1

I’ve always liked these. Side by side proof that being a guy lets you get away carrying more fat. Dicks. (Nahhhhhh, J.K.) I once trained an overly obese woman who came to her session telling me that her doctor told her that she is about 35% BF so in spite of her nearly 400# girth, it’s low fat so that’s good. Quite honestly, this was my first indication that a little crazy was at play here (I missed the other signs, I guess they were there but it takes a while to sink in with me.) My reply was that I had a hard time understanding that because I was at least 30% and our body compositions were very different. But nope, she was good to go. Doc said that her low BF% would keep her healthy and yes, she’d be better if she lost a little weight but she’s good now.

Fok. You’re fired. I can’t help you. Even after all these years I remember the shaking of the head wondering how I missed the reality of what I was dealing with. I missed her money, I wasn’t in a position to not have it. But I can’t do it. I can’t just take money because someone is willing to give it to me without conditions. I’m not your mommy, I don’t love you unconditionally (I hate that term actually.) You are expected to follow through on work to maximize my coaching and your workouts. Duh.

But to all you Snake Oil salesmen out there, who WILL continue to take folks money no matter what crappy product you’re giving them (including false hope if you don’t put them on a solid strength, conditioning, and sustainable diet), good job. It’s called malpractice but that rarely gets a second look these days, thanks a lot Obama. Look around your gym though, do you need to have the “LOOK” talk with someone? Will you?

Well? Will you?

Whatever luck I had, I made. I was never a natural athlete, but I paid my dues in sweat and concentration and took the time necessary to learn karate and become world champion.

Chuck Norris

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