Monday Bacon: Various Shouts

Posted on March 24, 2014 by tosabarbell

We headed on down to Springfield, Illinois this weekend for the Shamrock Games thrown by Merl Lawless and the Ancient Athletic crew and as before, it was awesome. It’s an indoor games thrown on the State Fairgrounds. Last year I remember how excited I was to be indoors on my first full games, until I realized that the coliseum actually RETAINS the cold. Heh. So I was prepared this year. The fact that it wasn’t snowing on us made my day, the other fact that it was a bit chilly was ok. It wasn’t snowing on us, remember?

Last year’s Shammies fell on my birthday and was the weekend immediately following our trip to Finland. To say we were both tired afterwards was a gross understatement. I remember getting back from Springfield around 11:00pm. We made it out for a birthday drink but were so tired I don’t know that a word was spoken. Heh. This year’s games were a bit different in that Iowan A.D. Mark McVey ran our group tightly and efficiently and we flew through the 8 events in record time. We started promptly at 9:30 and even with a lunch break were done by 2:00. Eight events, lunch, fun girl chatter and STILL finished in minutes over four hours! SRSLY. Last year we were the last to finish, a good hour after everyone else, they were almost done breaking down the field by our last WOB throw. THIS time we were one of the first groups done (we started with Sheaf, that was helpful. I still suck at Sheaf, that was not as helpful) and had at least my first beer done before others started finishing up. It was awesome.

We had a great post games BBQ meal with Jeff Armstrong, Jason Clevenger, and Rhett Bobzien that was filled with so much laughter I thought I gave myself a hernia afterwards. My Bigg man drove all the way home while I slept through most of the trip and by the time we got home and unpacked the gear and the car, still made it to bed at a decent hour. Score!

Anyways. Back to the Games.

Having five events under one roof can be a bit exciting. The heavy hammer was in the middle of the distance trigs so when we were competing on that side you would hear various shouts of, “Hammer ON!” or “Weight ON!” to ensure we didn’t kill each other. As Merl opened the games, he spoke of the new hammer cage that was used at The Arnold and was tested as an errant hammer tried to make it’s way to the crowd. Denied, the cage held. Which is a good thing because as we were out in the Heavy Distance weight field ready to shag a throw, one of the Super A’s let go of the hammer and according to my scientific (and scared shitless) calculations, that thing was heading right for us had that cage not held. Now, it got knocked down and they had to tie it back together, but it held. Thanks gawd. I was appreciative of those shouts, it made us perk up and be ready.

While on the heavy hammer, we had some more. Now the Super A’s were on the WOB and I don’t remember which group was on the Sheaf, right next to the WOB. There were shouts and grunts coming from both sides. My first two throws were ok, not good releases though. I really want to get this Hammer thing down and was fairly determined to have a good 3rd throw. So as I waited for Mark to make his way into a safe position, I was thinking about a few different things when I heard a huge shout and some noise towards the WOB. It was Nathan Parker (an amazing thrower and Arnold Champion) hitting a PR of 15’1″. I kind of heard it but was focused on my throw. I choked up a bit on the handle, put my weight further back towards my heels and put together a pretty decent throw. 57′ and change exceeded my goal and I was very pleased. The thing was, as soon as I released it, I knew it was a good one. Good throws just feel good. I don’t know yet how to explain that. Effortless, I’ve written about that before. Mechanics coming together, it was nice. I looked back, saw where it dropped, and gave a shout of my own. Good throw.

I have a long ways to go with this event but it was a good start. I need more speed but I’m pleased with the swings and release. Something to build on.

It was a great event, with great ladies and awesome prizes…

shammiesprize

…of which the Oz man has already staked his claim on this one.

I also had a wonderful Birthday the next day and am so thankful and touched at so many who took the time to wish me well. We still get one more birthday dinner tomorrow night at the Milwaukee Ale house for a five course dinner with Milwaukee Brew and Lakefront Brewery beers, sooooooo, awesome! I may shout again at that one, we’ll see.

With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.

William Shakespeare 

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Friday Jams

Posted on March 21, 2014 by tosabarbell

There are days where we just need a little Johnny Cash. This, is one of those days. Johnny Cash, Ring of Fire.

It’s a big weekend, lots of Highland Games officially kick off the 2014 season and I want to wish all the ladies out in Arizona at Women’s World Championships far throws and many smiles. Some of the strongest in the world are getting in one more rest day before the World’s Strongest Man contest kicks off tomorrow in L.A. We’ll be keeping an eye on the “unofficial” updates while throwing at the Shammies tomorrow in Springfield. We’re hoping for big things from our favs, Loz and Big Z and will be cheering for our Minnesota boy, Dave Ostlund as he storms into World’s for his Strongman comeback!! Go Dave!! Go Loz!! I’m also wishing Loz’s wife to be, Liz, to have an amazing time on her first trip to ‘Merica! If someone doesn’t take her to In’N’Out on her stay, I will take it as a personal ‘merica fail on all of you. (Ya, drama much?)

Enjoy your weekend!

You build on failure. You use it as a stepping stone. Close the door on the past. You don’t try to forget the mistakes, but you don’t dwell on it. You don’t let it have any of your energy, or any of your time, or any of your space.

Johnny Cash

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Plan B

Posted on March 20, 2014 by tosabarbell

Or, what to do when you don’t inherit incredible genetics.

I was getting a mani/pedi the other day when a woman sat down in the pedi seat next to me. She was somewhat trim but had aged, as in, aged poorly. I guessed her to be late 50’s/early 60’s (but admittedly I really suck at guessing ages.) Anyways. She had kind of  a too much sun, too many shmokes skin thing going on and her face looked pretty tired. She was nice and friendly though and polite. I like polite. The employees at this particular shop know I have a black iron gym and know I train and one girl brought it up. The nice woman next to me says, ‘Oh, I’m too old for that.’ I said Black Iron training is certainly not for everyone but age is not a factor. Then I asked how old she was. 44. W!T!Ffffff!!!! When asked, I told her I’ll be 47 on Sunday. I honestly don’t think she believed me. Not because I’m anything special, but maybe just because she has aged SO poorly.

It got me thinkin about my genes. See, I have pretty crappy genes. Though my biological mother died at 21 in a car wreck, and though I believe she was very beautiful, she was on a crappy Hawaiian diet where  at some point that rice and sugar extravaganza would have caught up to her. It caught up to my tutu who slowly lost limbs to Diabetes. I have relatives who struggle with weight and I’m one of them. I’ve said it before many times, I’m a fat kid just staving off obesity (although Weight Watchers says I’m a fatty. F*k them.)

Anyways.

Fast forward to an awesome German dinner me and Bigg ate last night. A new place has opened up and we loved it. A comfortable German bier hall feeling with excellent food. Yeah ‘tosa. We talked about whether food or strength training will impact someones aging more. I vote food. Food is by far the determining factor as to how our body functions. We can strength train, but if we destroy our body later in the day with food, what’s the point? Sure, we’re strong (kind of.) But we are fighting chronic inflammation and we already know what that does for us. Nothing good. The clock is ticking on the inflammed, quicker than the rest of us. Unless we have a sleeping Aneurysm, than we’re screwed.

Moving on.

I noticed a picture of Sophia Loren (I know, I’m skipping around a lot, stay with me) on my throwing pal’s FB page (Herro Mona!) with a saying that she owes her looks to spaghetti or something . Ok, first off, I’ve always admired Sophia Loren’s look. My mother has a cousin who was a stunt double for Sophia Loren and looked uncannily just like her only stronger. It was SO glamorous having that in our family tree. She has aged so incredibly that I’d love to know her secret and no, I’m not believing spaghetti is one of them. So I googled for a picture of she and her mother. Ohhhhhhhhh. Rog. Check it out. Spaghetti didn’t build those looks, mommy did. Genetics, she haz them.

SO, bringing it all in. What do we do when we don’t have genetics giving us a helping hand in this aging thing. I mean, we want to age right? Or else we’re dead, and then I can’t rant and rave so, ya that sucks. I don’t have the Sophia Loren genetics, no offense Barbara Jean and Edward. Somewhere in my history I had a somewhat natural athlete, to them I say THANK YOU! Somewhere in my history I had a really confrontational, stern relative; okay, it was my Tutu. She was the shit, or so I’m told. I have some of her roughness. But I don’t have the genetics of longevity, I’ve already outlived my birth parents by over 25 and 6 years.

On to Plan B, taking care of myself. And no, I don’t mean eating leaves and running. I eat meat, lots of it. More carbs these days than I have for a long time but if the bodybuilder coach I have says I can then I’m on it. I train, as in strength train. And although I do push myself as much as I believe I can recover from (nightmares from 10×10 are still frequent), I don’t train like an asshole constantly driving myself into the ground. I lay out a plan, follow it, adjust as necessary as life determines. I follow one program, I don’t jump because something different has worked for someone else and then add in a few other things that I read someone else did, etc. I don’t allow someone to sell me a “random works” program. I do most things I can to be good to my body.

Lucky for me, Plan B also includes my lifestyle. I’m back up north where I belong in a great town with my guy. He is also committed to be strong and as healthy as Strongman can be (most days;) I am afforded the ability to sleep well, eat well, and train well. Believe me, I am thankful for that every day. I’ve been in situations where non of those things were happening. My time in Texas aged me, poorly. I was constantly stressed, constantly broke, constantly running, and seemingly constantly failing. The relationships I made there are treasured, everything else can pound sand (well, except the BBQ. Gawd I miss the BBQ.) I was aging quickly and poorly. That was scary for me. But then my Strongman swooped in and saved me (I totally just pictured Johnny Weissmuller.) Literally. Saved me.

There’s always a Plan B available, we may just need to start looking for it and who knows, maybe IT will find US.

I admit, I get a bit nostalgic around my birthday. There’s been a bunch, hopefully there’ll be a bunch more. Hopefully I’ll still be in the gym for all of them to come. For now, that’s Plan B. Those of you who get Plan A, I hate you. Nahhhhh, not really. Heh. Life is good, Plan B is pretty damn good.

ON that note, my pal Big Daddy O’Neill posted an old video of Clint Walker this morning which basically said everything I had already typed out. So I’m stealing it, thanks Big Daddy!

He’s awfully hunky.

Sex appeal is 50% what you’ve got and 50% what people think you’ve got.

Sophia Loren

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You Talkin’ to Me?

Posted on March 19, 2014 by tosabarbell

An odd thing happened yesterday as I went to buy dog food. First off, the store we get our food is filled with very nice people who love to talk story when you come in. I don’t. I like to walk down the aisle to the most ginormous bag of Solid Gold dog food, grab it and go. But I’ve learned that it’s going to take me a bit longer here and that’s ok. What went down this time was interesting to me.

As I was at the checkout counter, a man (I presumed that worked there) came up behind me and read the writing on my hoodie out loud and made a comment about it. This is something I kind of heard as background noise and it didn’t immediately register that he was talking TO me until the cashier stopped what she was doing, stared at me for a few moments and finally said, ‘He’s talking to you.’ Uhhhhhh, what? You came up behind me, talked behind me, made some comments but are now talking TO me?

Now, let’s back up a bit. Those who know me know I’m a bit hard of hearing. I blame the Walkman and my loud rock’n’roll music. Seriously, I played that thing as loud as I could to block out the world and though it was effective, it’s messed up my hearing. When I’m in a crowded room trying to have a conversation when there’s 2-3 other conversations going around me, I have to just give up. I can’t hear mine and I hear snippets of others and it drives me crazy. I’ll usually ask people to look at me if they’re talking to I can hear them (people have a tendency to look away while in mid-conversation. That’s fine, but I’ve stopped listening, so ya know.)

So someone coming up from behind me and staying behind but pretending I am part of this conversation is silly to me. And it’s happening more and more. We’ve walked into countless stores where some employee is strolling around and will bellow, “HELLO, LET US KNOW IF YOU NEED HELP WITH ANYTHING” while aisles away or even at some ill placed desk. Again, are you talking TO me? Or are you just yelling my way cuz it really seems like you’re just yelling my way and I’m supposed to assume I’m part of this conversation.

Look, walk into a Wal-Mart and whose at the front door waiting for you? Greeters. Those who look you in the eye, say a good morning or good day (I SAID GOOD DAY!) and I’ll respond in kind. To date, I haven’t had a Wal-Mart greeter Ninja sneak up behind me and hold a conversation while expecting me to reply. Cuz they greet, and move on. As for yesterday, there’s more.

When the cashier told me that behind me dude was talking to me I slightly turned around and said something brilliant like, “Oh.” Moving on, I expected to pay for the pup food when behind me dude (still off to my left and behind me) motioned to some pictures on the wall while talking. Again, I did not assume he was talking to me until cashier stopped (again) and looked at me (again.) I looked her in the eye and asked, “Is he talking to me? Because I don’t know if someone is talking to me unless they’re actually looking at me and making me believe that I am part of this conversation.” She just said, ‘yes’ and pointed to the wall at whatever I was supposed to be looking at. It was some weird picture/painting of a pit bull. Ok, I looked, can I pay for my food now?

What annoyed me a bit was the look I got implying that I was being rude. Me. The one who walked into your store, dropped fitty bucks, and wanted to just smile and leave. Rude was Mr. behind me dude who deems it completely acceptable to talk to people from anywhere he wants and believe that they’ll ASSume they’re part of the conversation.

I blame Obama.

But not really. I blame people who talk to others while looking at their phone and the ‘others’ don’t say PUT DOWN YOUR F*KING PHONE AND TALK TO ME. Ya know, like I do with my kids.

So to review: when speaking to someone, look them in the eye. If you do not have their attention, say something like “Excuse me, I noticed the picture on the back of your sweatshirt. Does it have a pit bull reference.” I can then say, “No, it doesn’t.” Person one can then say, “Oh, sorry. I thought maybe you were a pit mama and I have pits.” I would then finish the conversation with, “Oh, nope, we have Kuvasok. Big white dogs who shed all day and eat cheese. Have a good day.” BOOM! See how that works? A conversation. Not hard, but seemingly a lost art.

“What ho!” I said.
“What ho!” said Motty.
“What ho! What ho!”
“What ho! What ho! What ho!”
After that it seemed rather difficult to go on with the conversation.

P.G. Wodehouse, My Man Jeeves.

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