Parade!
Originally uploaded by renfield
Self chizzle
I will a some point soon start a proper and official chisel, as administered by the master of Peak Condition Project.
But right now, I have about 6 weeks to my yearly health check, and I have been slipping.
Calorie-laden frapuccinos to beat the heat, late nights and late mornings mean no AM workouts, big lunches, lots of sitting about...at least I have been going to fight club two or three times a week, and utterly sweating liters, but I seem to use that as an excuse to have some ice-cream or another cool and refreshing frap.
So as of July 1, I am back on the program.
I will start with a modified week 2 PCP diet (cutting the carbs seriously because I simply cannot eat that much anymore), and I will get up every morning for a short (likely barefoot) run and some pull-ups before breakfast. I will drink only decaf coffee from Starbucks. I will snack only on my prescribed fruit. And every week I will change to the following week's diet, carb adjusted, until my health check.
And we shall see what happens, but I predict I will drop a couple of the silly kilos I have slapped back on, covering my six-pack criminally a just the point in the summer when it needs to be out and gleaming in all its chiseled glory...or something.
But right now, I have about 6 weeks to my yearly health check, and I have been slipping.
Calorie-laden frapuccinos to beat the heat, late nights and late mornings mean no AM workouts, big lunches, lots of sitting about...at least I have been going to fight club two or three times a week, and utterly sweating liters, but I seem to use that as an excuse to have some ice-cream or another cool and refreshing frap.
So as of July 1, I am back on the program.
I will start with a modified week 2 PCP diet (cutting the carbs seriously because I simply cannot eat that much anymore), and I will get up every morning for a short (likely barefoot) run and some pull-ups before breakfast. I will drink only decaf coffee from Starbucks. I will snack only on my prescribed fruit. And every week I will change to the following week's diet, carb adjusted, until my health check.
And we shall see what happens, but I predict I will drop a couple of the silly kilos I have slapped back on, covering my six-pack criminally a just the point in the summer when it needs to be out and gleaming in all its chiseled glory...or something.
just so you know
The dudes I train with at Body Plant on my lunch break include some particularly large guys, including Sakashita-san, a really nice former rugby player and pro fighter on the Dream circuit who is easily 10cm taller and 20 kilos heavier than me, as you can see. Oh yeah, and his arms are the same size as my legs. Needless to say, our practice is generally quite one-sided.
BTW, you can see Bernard in the background.
BTW, you can see Bernard in the background.
Fathers day card from daughter
Fathers day card from daughter
Originally uploaded by renfield
My daddy is 9 years old.
He weighs 100 lbs. and is 6 ft. tall.
His hair is black and his eyes are black.
He loves to eat vegetables.
His favorite tv show is cooking tv.
Daddy always tells me "go to sleep."
It makes him happy when he gives me a toy.
I really love it when my dad go to work if I hug him.
surviving
Once again I spent the lunch hour getting pummeled by a professional MMA fighter. The final 3 minute round we did speed switches: he's on his back, the rest of us go into a half-mount and fight until he reverses or stands up.
First time, I was flipped in three seconds.
Second time, ten seconds.
Third time, I managed to hang on for a full half-minute, avoiding getting pancaked not once but twice, before executing a textbook anaconda choke hold, which would have dropped any normal human into unconsciousness. Instead, he simply plied my arms off and crushed me into the mat.
You know when you get a piece of tissue paper stuck on your shoe, and you kinda shake it all around, but it's just hanging there by one corner, really tenaciously? And then finally, after flopping all over the place it finally just gives up and flutters away, settling on the pavement once again in a defeated, tangled, dirty, tired heap?
I was the tissue, he was the shoe.
First time, I was flipped in three seconds.
Second time, ten seconds.
Third time, I managed to hang on for a full half-minute, avoiding getting pancaked not once but twice, before executing a textbook anaconda choke hold, which would have dropped any normal human into unconsciousness. Instead, he simply plied my arms off and crushed me into the mat.
You know when you get a piece of tissue paper stuck on your shoe, and you kinda shake it all around, but it's just hanging there by one corner, really tenaciously? And then finally, after flopping all over the place it finally just gives up and flutters away, settling on the pavement once again in a defeated, tangled, dirty, tired heap?
I was the tissue, he was the shoe.
rewardingly humbling
Fight Club at lunch was packed today: a bunch of new guys, all the old crew, some rare faces.
Got to go two rounds with a professional mixed fighter, which basically means I spent three minutes underneath 100 kilos of smiling, dread-locked muscle raining down on top of me. Fun, in a really tiring, I-could-die-any-second-if-he-even-made-the-slightest-effort kind of way. Wasn't much of a workout for him though, I'm afraid. Also a couple of proper grappling guys, one dude with hands for feet and spider limbs for legs and arms. Easily outweighed me by 10 kilos but moved like a hummingbird and clenched like a python. Couldn't box for anything, but it didn't matter because unless I managed to knock him unconscious he'd just tackle me and twist me into a submission pretzel.
After work taught at the dojo and Salty and I each cut a roll. Cutting just doesn't do it for me anymore. It's more a hassle than a thrill, and I'm not learning much from it for my draw cuts. Will probably be a once-in-a-while kinda thing methinks.
Got to go two rounds with a professional mixed fighter, which basically means I spent three minutes underneath 100 kilos of smiling, dread-locked muscle raining down on top of me. Fun, in a really tiring, I-could-die-any-second-if-he-even-made-the-slightest-effort kind of way. Wasn't much of a workout for him though, I'm afraid. Also a couple of proper grappling guys, one dude with hands for feet and spider limbs for legs and arms. Easily outweighed me by 10 kilos but moved like a hummingbird and clenched like a python. Couldn't box for anything, but it didn't matter because unless I managed to knock him unconscious he'd just tackle me and twist me into a submission pretzel.
After work taught at the dojo and Salty and I each cut a roll. Cutting just doesn't do it for me anymore. It's more a hassle than a thrill, and I'm not learning much from it for my draw cuts. Will probably be a once-in-a-while kinda thing methinks.
Blisters
Blisters
Originally uploaded by renfield
This is what happens after being a bit too enthusiastic about barefoot running. First couple of times I ran I was fine. On Monday I ran in the morning, felt great,and actually had a good pace. When I got home i realized I had several gnarly blisters: on the middle and third toes of each foot, a small one next to the ball of my left foot, and this bad boy on my right foot, which is actually two overlapping blisters. Stunningly painful for a few days. But as I expected, it is now hardening up nicely. Will let it heal for a few more days before I do more running, shod. Next week will do a circuit or two of barefoot. A couple months of this and i will have steel plates for feet!
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