Nut Up

Posted on December 3, 2013 by tosabarbell

Well, you could see this one coming.

Ok, ok, we all know last week was a bad one here. We’ve walked through a three alarm fire and have come out stronger on the other side. People’s lives have changed, relationships have changed, but everyone over here will be ok. We’re thankful for that, as I’ve mentioned. There are so many people who’s week was far more devastating than ours.

As we walked through this hard time, both Bigg and I reached out in different ways. Obviously. I have an outlet…I pay, what, about $19 a year to rant as much as I want. Yeah me. But both Matt and I reached out in different ways on the Facebook. Why? Cuz we can. That’s why. There was no bashing; no whining; no posturing, just pain. Lots of peeps stepped up, so many, but I’ve already written about that.

Then there was one interesting comment coming from nowhere’sville from noclueman who jumped on this opportunity to showboat a bit all of his manliness. Nut up, he says. Go train, stop whining on the FB. Nut up. Even more lulz than some stranger taking time out of his day to call out a big, strong man showing pain, is anyone “liking” this comment.

Soooooo, just so I’m clear. Facebook is ok to post food porn; post soft porn; post various rants of varying degrees of little importance (including mine); kid pics, dog pics, dog’s poop pics. Your new haircut; your new glasses; your Christmas decorations; your political views (snore); your gym’s obnoxiously shitty form lift videos; your arts and crafts activities; your new kick ass S&C job; your new dining room table, blah, blah, blah. Everything under the sun. But post something real, maybe something painful, and the idiots come out with a Nut Up? Hmmmmmm.

At the end of the day, all this guy showed is that he’s a troll. Well done. The internet doesn’t have nearly as many trolls as it should. But I’m curious, how sad is your life that you troll the Facebook just looking for ways to prove how big of a man you want to be? I bet you say ‘Fuck’ a lot too, yes? Cuz that’s manly (yes, I say fuck a lot. I like it. But I’m a dainty girl so I don’t have to prove how big my TT is.) As if someone who regularly trains heavier than the majority of man needs advice from a troll? Shut up. You’re sad.

Showing pain isn’t self pity. By the way. It’s pain. A human emotion. I’d wonder why it evoked such an emotional response from a stranger?? Dude, you okay??? Need to talk? Need a hug? No? Ok, well then just GFY.

I feel better. Thanks WordPress. I heart you.

Half of life is fucking up, the other half is dealing with it.

Henry Rollins

Training Log

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Iron & Aloha

Posted on November 29, 2013 by tosabarbell

This has been a bad week. A very bad week. Some of us have walked through fire and have quickly came out on the other side. Some are just beginning their journey through darkness here on our sunny world. Some of us have grown; have begun healing; are starting new chapters in their lives in new homes, and though our portraits have changed a bit in our every day, we’ll all be fine.

Others have lost fathers, grandfather’s, and husband’s. An unimaginable tragic Thanksgiving according to my FB feed. Sad news of loved ones of friends passing. Shocking news of an Iron god leaving our strength world and the lives of his loved ones and friends. A stark reminder that as long as there is breath in our bodies, we can do better. Make things right. Not give up. Don’t wait.

A new and dear friend of mine made a comment this week about my probably not getting to train like I’m used to which is adding to the stress and exhaustion of not sleeping. I said, no, I train. Because when life turns to shit, I turn to the Iron. I’ve often wondered what people do in times of crisis who don’t have the Iron to turn to? I cannot imagine. The Iron is always there, not only wanting to beat you, but to give you comfort. The feel of the weight on your back, pushing you down, cheering you on to get back up. Telling you to not give up. Just stand up with me on your back. You and me kid. My job today isn’t to beat you, it’s to keep you standing. Just stand up. The Iron is my go to. I would be lost without it. I’d also be horrendously fat and unhealthy in my non-Iron depression. No thank you. I’ll take strong and sad any day to that.

But I’ve learned recently where else to turn. To my friends. Yes, this is new for me. I’ve always kept things close to the vest, not letting too many people know my shit. Too often people close to me have used personal information learned in times of crisis later on against me. Lesson learned, don’t tell. Deal with it on my own. Until now. I couldn’t do it on my own. This one was different. Harder. The hardest. I needed help. So I reached out. Luckily for me, some amazing people grabbed my hand and let me know I’m not alone. Amazing.

See, when I hit town, I became a part of Bigg’s life. His friends became my friends, his family became my family. Everyone was incredibly welcoming. I’ll always be thankful for that. But what happens when shit hits the fan and that network instantly shuts down? Actually, an entire new network (that had been there already in varying degrees) opened up to me and suddenly I wasn’t on my own dealing with a horrible situation. It still overwhelms me, how many of you reached out. So many mutual friends too, you all made an impact. All of the Aloha you sent or helping hands you extended…you’ve taught me so much. Not only to remember to reach out, but to extend myself to others so THEY can reach to me when needed.

Iron and Aloha. I would be lost without it. I cannot ever convey to all of you my (our) thanks for helping us see this through. You know who you are. All of you. There are a few who have my complete love and devotion, you know who you are. Thank you.

tosabarbell will be around for a while longer. A long while.

 

“Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. “Pooh?” he whispered.
“Yes, Piglet?”
“Nothing,” said Piglet, taking Pooh’s hand. “I just wanted to be sure of you.”
A.A. Milne
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A Sneaky Round…

Posted on November 25, 2013 by tosabarbell

Leave it to me to not shut up. My blog, my rules. Heh.

First off, to all of you have taken the time to comment, text, private message, call and support BOTH Matt and I right now, thank you. It is unbelievable how many people care and really wanted us to succeed. Overwhelming actually. Thank you.

As you know, I try to keep shit real here. This is real. The last 30 hours have caused a lot of self-reflection. Not right/wrong, but WTF. Then I had an amazing conversation with a friend of mine. Now, V is as opposite to me when dealing with things as we could be. I’m intense, she’s one hair flower wreath removed from Woodstock. And who knows, she could have one of those I just haven’t seen yet. She’s French. I don’t know if that matters. She’s my only French friend. But she had the courage to speak up and tell me what I needed to hear. No, not what I WANTED to hear. Needed. A kick in the arse.

First off, I can be scary. Yup. I probably use that, oops, not probably. I totally use that. Keeps people out. Works magically. I’m intense and that’s me but I needn’t be scary. Scary enough to prevent loved ones to have a real conversation with me. Not good. I need to chill, listen more, forgive more.

Uhhhh, what? Forgive? OF COURSE I FORGIVE, SHUT UP! Or do I? Uh oh. I don’t. I have a list of the Unforgiven a lifetime long. Sure, shit happens and sorry’s were said but did I forgive and move on? Nope. I felt completely justified saying all of these things strung together makes up a whole snowball of crap that can’t be overcome. But then the sorry’s were all for naught. If I haven’t forgiven. And I haven’t, in a lot of cases, but this big one right now has caused a lot of pain. (Now before all of you, “but he has a part in this too” start to speak, ya, I know-he’s busy owning it. I’m talking about me now.)

We’re talking. I’ve forgiven and ya know what? It feels good.  Lighter. Happier. No matter what happens here, I’ve learned a valuable lesson about myself.

I’ve often wondered, especially in the last couple of days, why do so many other couples make it? What is so special about them? Honestly? I dunno. But a lot of fingers are pointing at the F word and it ain’t my all time favorite one with four letters. It’s forgiveness. I have a few more calls to make tonight, on asking for some…and giving some. I’m not sure how the calls will go, it’s scary. And maybe in some cases I don’t deserve forgiveness, but I’ll ask anyway.

Thank you. Now I’ll shut up…

…but prolly not. Heh.

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Talk To The Pharmacist

Posted on November 23, 2013 by tosabarbell

My Grandpa was a pretty anti-doctor kinda guy. As I’ve said before, he grew up tough in an orphanage in Chicago during the depression and was treated with Polio while there. Instead of folding his cards and deciding to be a ward of the state for the rest of his life like to many are doing today, he fought to survive and strived to always be self-sufficient.

Most illnesses were treated by a heavy dose of YBF. All headaches were “all in your head.” Heh. For realz. But if there was really something that wasn’t going away, he wouldn’t go straight to the doc… but he WOULD go straight to his pharmacist. Should he take something or will it go away? I don’t remember exactly if the pharm guy ever told him to actually go to the doctor but Grandpa was happy with his program. After all, the pharmacist understands the drugs FAR better than the doc who prescribes them depending on how many kickbacks they get. Yes? Yes. (I know, I know, I’m jaded. If there are any doc’s out there all offended now, shut up. You know at least part of that statement has merit.)

The good pharm’s have enough experience to recognize pros and cons to medicine along with possible natural supplements that can be tried prior to chemically altering your body make-up with shit that puts another billion in a pharmaceutical president’s pocket. Many also have an understanding that a diet change can profoundly impact a potential patient to the point of getting them out of their diseased state.

I’m lucky enough to have one come to tosabarbell three times a week and train. So when health declines of our loved ones is found out, he’s my go to guy for possible medicinal fixes. More importantly, he gives expert advice on which medicines to stay away from and why. It’s quite fascinating…having medical professionals in the Bigg guy’s family whose advice may directly conflict with the guy who has spent his life dedicated to knowing exactly how drugs prescribed can either help or hurt a patient.

A simplified view of the current medical field is very similar to coaching barbell lifts. We hit the big stuff first; bottom position on the squat, starting position off the floor in a clean, squeezing the chest up in the deadlift to set the hamstrings. Big stuff first. As we go on, we’ll start nitpicking and taking care of details. So it goes with the doc’s. Symptoms are described, they’ll reach for the most common answer first and see what should be prescribed to fix that problem. Didn’t work? Cross it off (just like certain cues don’t work for some people…cross it off the list.) Narrow the diagnoses…prescribe something different or a different dose. (God forbid they tell people to change their diet, that doesn’t get pharm exec’s their Jet Stream for another year.) Patients can go weeks, months, even years feeling like crap while trusting their doctor. I find that completely unacceptable (I have lots of Grandpa in me.) I don’t want chemicals in my body (barring catastrophic disease) if I can help it. But our medical profession has morphed into an accepted version of the street corner keeper of the drugs. Prescribe, prescribe, prescribe.

Oh sure, there are good ones out there. I personally really like my doctor and if I had anything that needed to be checked out I would trek back to Minnesota to see him. But if drugs are prescribed, I’ll talk to the pharmacist before I take them and first ask what else can be done to battle whatever I’m battling. I’ll also do a little google checking and if I find out that the drug prescribed is in the top five drugs sold in our country, peace out dude. Fok that. I’m not obligated to keep drug companies rich, that’s the government’s job.

When discussing the disease of a loved one last week with someone, the following comment was made (not by me.) ‘Well what does a pharmacist know?’ Actually, they know a lot.  In fact, they’re the ones I’d go to first. Oh ya, I don’t have to go anywhere, I’ll just wait till they come train.

Yeah me.

Training Log

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