Soul Train

soultrain

I am a notoriously bad sleeper. I’ve mentioned it once or a thousand times before. Usually I get to blame it on the hubby’s snoring but he’s some 7,916 miles away right meow so I guess this is on me. Bummer.

The other night was particularly rough. A 1:25am wake up call instead of the usual 3:30am. That’s two hours less sleep than the usual crappy five hours of sleep. What to do, what to do. The first thing I do is re-run the movie that’s in the player that put me to sleep in the first place. Currently, it’s a disc from the first season of Deadwood. Yup. Guns; horses; and the soothing sounds of Swearengen’s “cocksucker” every four lines usually does the trick. Not this time. Nuts. Time for another episode. That didn’t work either so I just turned it off and tried the tv. Yes, I’ve read where we’re not supposed to turn on the television. We’re just supposed to lay still and go to a happy place. Hey, ya know what my happy place is? Sleeping. Ya know what happens when I’m not there? I get pissed and agitated and travel further and further away from my happy place.

So tv it is. At some point, around 3:30 I think I happened on some videos on the MtV. I didn’t know they ran videos anymore. It must be a middle of the night thing. The first video was Fatboy Slim, Weapon of Choice. Giddyup. Christopher Walken dancin’ the night away. Not a horrible way to spend some insomnia. Cool. Thought I’d stick around for a while.

The next video had a bunch of early 80’s style aerobic dressed exercisers coming into the gym with a skinny dude. Hokay, I’ll bite. Maybe this will be interesting. I’d never heard of the song (which I guess is 10 years old.) Typical.

Anyways. Remember those old aerobic class videos that came on around six in the morning before school? I’d come downstairs to shower and catch my brother watching them. Hilarious. I’d give him endless shit about it. So when it looked like someone made another unoriginal music video copying MtV nearly 30 years ago, I actually stopped to look. After all, there COULD be a new twist on it. Right?

Ya, not so much. The video was boring enough but the words to the song? Worse. So worse that I Googled that shit. Here they are:

Call on me, call on me
Call on me, call on me
Call on me, call on me
Call on me, call on me
Call on me, call on me
Call on me, call on me
Call on me
I’m the same boy I used to be

That’s it. Those words. Over. And over. And over. SRSLY. What in the ever living fok is going on with music? That this is 10 years old and music hasn’t improved since then made me even more agitated.

Annoyed, I surfed around to see what else I could find. And there it was, one of the best infomercials out there…

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An entire hour (yes, I know this because at 5am I was still up) of clips from early days of the show. The Jackson 5. Earth, Wind, and Fire. Marvin Gaye. The list goes on and on. Now, I grew up with a choice of either American Bandstand or Soul Train. Sure, you could watch both but they ran close to each other on Saturday mornings so if I didn’t want to get up every few minutes (remotes? What are those?) I’d have to pick one. And it was Soul Train. Hands down.

The music was better. The dancers were better. And the costumes? SRSLY…

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…if there is ONE white girl our there who saw Tina Turner rockin’ those thigh high boots and didn’t immediately want a pair I will denounce you as a liar and a liar. True story. She rocked the shit out of those boots. Still does actually. SRSLY. Lady Gaga has nothing on these 70’s performers. The more outrageous, the more they backed the look up with their music. Who can say that today? (Gawd, I feel very “get off my lawn” right now.)

So while I didn’t get any sleep. At least I was entertained. If you watch this, and aren’t, I don’t really need to know you.

You can’t start worrying about what’s going to happen. You get spastic enough worrying about what’s happening now.

Lauren Bacall

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Auntie’s Shoes

Auntie’s shoes next to Bigg’s

When I was very young, my often somber childhood took a turn for the better. My Auntie and Uncle moved back to Minnesota from Phoenix bringing my cousins Paul & barely talking Denise with them. They even lived with us for a short time while they found a home in Minneapolis. And they brought a microwave. A MICROWAVE! It was huge and took the whole counter but bygod, we had a microwave. Every day after school I would beat a couple of eggs in a coffee cup; toss it in the ‘Mic’, and let ‘er rip. BOOM! Scrambled eggs in 30 seconds. Rock star.

I’ve always had a special relationship with Auntie and Uncle, even when I didn’t know it. See, when my parents adopted me down in Texas, Dennis & Karen were in Hawaii and were so excited for their new Hawaiian niece that they bought me a grass skirt and top. I still have it. Dunno what I’ll do with it, but I’ve got it. When they moved to Minnesota, a whole new life opened up for us. We took time for more fun. Trekking out to Lake Street with not only a White Castle one way from Auntie’s house but a Winchell’s donuts the other. Disco.

My Uncle Dennis always brought out the fun in my dad. You could catch a glimpse of silly boys in their youth. Raising hell and trying to keep it from Grandpa (they never did.) See, my dad (Pastor John) was quite a big hellion in his youth and those stories only came out when Uncle Dennis was around and they’d laugh about them in front of my Grandpa who would just shake his head.

As for my Auntie, due to her (dare I say?) 5 foot (I don’t think it’s that tall) frame, she was always (still does) wearing higher wedged shoes. Whenever we’d go to their house, I would make a beeline for her closet and put on her stylish shoes. Until the 4th grade. That’s when I grew out of them. I can tell you this, it was a sad day for this big boned Hawaiian when I could no longer wear Auntie’s shoes. I didn’t have pretty shoes of my own and it would be a while before I got a pair. Now I have two! Wedged pairs of shoes that are Auntie wearable. I adore them and they are the only high heeled shoes I can wear for hours and hours. I’ve even flown in one pair comfortably. (Two may not seem like a lot but I hate shopping so once I find a pair I’ll wear them to death. True story.)

Our years growing up with Auntie and Uncle and Paul and Denise close by were good ones. Paul & I spent hours watching Get Smart; The Smothers Brothers; and Monty Pythons Flying Circus. We would laugh hysterically for hours and hours. To this day, my Firefighter cousin is one of my favorite people on earth. That he is happier now than he has been for a long time makes my heart swell and I’m so thankful I can hardly stand it. Denise, 6 1/2 years younger and I took a bit longer to become close due to our age but I believe she and I now have the sister relationship I didn’t have with my own and her kids are two of the most important little people in my life besides my own kids. Get the picture? These people are the most important family I have. Have been for a long time. Longer than I can remember. When we’re with them, the world is good.

So when we get the chance to  travel to the Seattle area, where they all are now, AND throw heavy stuff around. Well, we say, HELLZ YA! The last two years, we’ve enjoyed a couple of extra days out in the PNW with the Peterson crew. Next year, we may add more. Maybe try to throw in Portland the weekend before the ‘Claw and road trip for a week and have extra time with them. We just never have enough time. Not enough time for Ferry rides…

pnwferrymtbaker

The Muk Ferry with Mt. Baker in the background.

Not enough time for Penn Cove mussles. Not enough time for Henri’s donuts (although with the Oz man along this time, we had PLENTY of Henri’s visits.) Not enough time for Auntie to feed us the most amazing food (well, we did have time but of course I want MOAR!)…

Auntie’s meatloaf. SO ono!

Just not enough time. But we DID have enough time to smell the roses, errr, I mean hydrangeas (my favorite)

pnwhydrangeas

And enjoy spectacular views of Madame Rainier from not only the field and on the way to the field, but from the last Ferry ride before we left on Monday:

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I can never get enough of Mt. Rainier.

Leaving the safe haven of Auntie and Uncle’s home is never easy for me. I never want to leave. Knowing I’ll return helps, but it is still a pensive time. Knowing their love is a gift. Knowing the peace and beauty of the Pacific Northwest with them in it is even better.

And as if knowing that saying goodbye makes me a little sad, the sun shines on the Sound and gives me one more memory of it’s splendor…

PNWlast

View from Auntie and Uncle’s driveway on our way out.

 

When in doubt, go for the dick joke.

Robin Williams

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Monday Bacon: Bolt On’s

bolton

Inevitably, when folks hear that I am a strength coach, they dive into the “ya, I should work out more, I was really athletic in High School.” High School? Anyone who played sports was athletic in high school, it was high school. Sure, there were some physical idiots trying to play soccer but who cares? 99% of us all ended up in the same place, NOT in professional sports. I’ll respond in different ways depending on my mood. Usually it’s just a polite smile (dude, you asked what I did for a living and I told you. I’m not judging you, I just answered a question.) If a dude is being particularly smarmy (what’chu gonna teach ME little lady) I may give my, That’s okay-strong isn’t for everybody reply and walk away. A little nicer version of that is Oh we don’t work out, we train and watch their confused expression and polite smile.

But the ‘ol High School retort isn’t NEARLY as bad as the, “Oh my gods can you help me get my arms to look like Michelle Obama’s? I just love her arms” or “All I want to do is fix my (fill in the blank here.)” And when I look them in the eye and tell them (usually girls, come on-you know it’s true) that it doesn’t really work that way they gloss over and I know I’ve just lost a potential paycheck.

But it doesn’t. Know that now. We use our bodies as a complete system. Duh. Tell me when in your life (barring catastrophic injury affecting limbs below the knee)  you have sat down and ONLY used your quads as the leg curl machine would have you believe? When? When! Doesn’t happen. When you get up out of the chair (or gods forbid a low couch) you really don’t honestly believe that it’s your massive quads (no, they’re not massive. It’s just that the rest of you is puny) getting you out of said chair. Cuz you start with your feet on the ground, yes? You push a little to get some momentum, get your calfs; knees; hammies, and abs involved a bit? Maybe use your back and arms to propel you out? One system, working together. So all of those machines your WAC trainer has you talked into to “Fix those imbalances” are actually a load of crap. The trainers just don’t know what to do with barbells so they rely on machines to keep you entertained instead of knowledge. True story.

I have had two “trainers” in my lifetime. Both have told me my left side is weaker than my right and so we’re going to do a whole hour of left sided “strength” movements to fix that. My response? No we’re not. That’s stoopid. What do I care if I can Kroc row 50 pounds on my left side and 60# on my right? I guess if I had a stroke someday that took out my right side but really, a 50# Kroc row on the left is just fine and guess how I’ll rehab? BY WORKING MY BODY AS A WHOLE! Double duh.

We are not a bunch of modern day Frankenstein bolted together piece by piece where we get to pick and choose what each body part is going to look like. Well, we could I guess, but then we’d look like this…

Gratuitous bolt on pic

…she was a cute young woman once. Now? (And no, porn star isn’t the same thing.)

But more than likely, you’re going to have to accept that you own a body part that is less pleasing than you’d like and just enjoy being stronger. Cuz you will. Waking up and walking around standing straighter with a little attitude cuz you just PR’d your squat or snatch or deadlift and understanding you may have to do that without Michelle Obama’s arms (by the way, she doesn’t train. She just got those arms. And they come with one of the coldest personalities on the planet. No thank you.)

But okay, prove me wrong. Prove your WAC trainer knows more than me. Sit down right now and get up just using one muscle. In fact, use the one that you’ve been paying hundreds of dollars a month to get stronger. But just one. Go ahead, I’ll get another cup of coffee. Waiting….how’s it working for ya…I’m back. You still on your chair? Uh huh, thought so. Get training. OH and by the way, it’s not too late.

Flo Meiler in 2013

Think you can pole vault (among other T&F events) going into your 80’s with isolation training? Heh.

I do not wish women to have power over men; but over themselves.

Mary Shelley

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Magnificent

adams

Being newer to throwing than others, my admiration of New Zealander Valerie Adams has been short lived. As most people who know me know, Serena Williams is my favorite female athlete…mostly. She is aggressive; and cocky; and looks good doing her thang; and everything else I admire in an athlete. But a woman who is 6’4 and 265 and still holds those qualities?  Boss. Total. Fucking. Boss.

That she throws the shot put further than my light weight distance blows my mind.

adams1

Also, that she is so unapologetically strong and powerful makes me admire her all the more. See, when stupid women say they don’t want to lift weights and get all big and bulky, there is a whole ‘nother subset of women who say not only will I OWN being big and bulky and strong and powerful and a world champion, I’ll actually train harder than any couch potato or skinny fat runner ever could. They are my heroes. If you don’t think THIS is beautiful it means you’re a silly person and no longer warranted an opinion.

But ya, okay. THIS, is bulky…

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…and unsightly.

But THIS…

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…is America.

Awesome.

You’re gonna eat lightnin’ and you’re gonna crap thunder!

Mickey

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