Keto Weeks 1 and 2

Keto Weeks 1 and 2

Week 1 - Keto Flu

I won't lie to you. I was afraid. The keto flu research indicated that at least 90% of all people starting Keto experience flu like symptoms such as cold sweats, fever, headaches, nausea, vomiting, ticklish prostate, and irratible bowel syndrome. Okay, some of that was made up, but you get the gist. For me, I think there was a little foggyness (I love making up words) but nothing too tragic. I was thirsty all of the time which forced me to drink enough water to supply a small village. The first week left me way too hungry for my liking, but I held firm and stayed the course. With no access to a scale and no money to buy the Keto strips, I fired blindly into this new world with nothing but my wits and a pair of tighty whiteys that would make Walter White proud enough to call me his prodigal son! My original stats are bogus and cannot be verified. Also, bacon!

Week 2 - Flu Gone; what's left?

So here I lay, dry heaving on broken dreams and false promises, but I digress! Week 2 went off without a hitch. I still had a major appetite and something weird started happening with the water. It wasn't poisoned or anything like that. I realized that if I don't drink enough water, my body would let me know in some not-so-subtle ways. My throat would get dry and itchy, and I would feel hungry. As soon as I put water in my system, I was right as rain! Towards the end of the week, I had finally managed to acquire what I can personally attest to being the best scale in the  world. Cue shameless plug: 

What makes it the best? Well, it is incredibly fast, accurate, and it costs about 30 bucks. The company that makes it is family owned and operated! However, what set the bar for me was the back lit blue display. I could weigh myself with the lights off while gawking in awe at the blue light shining brightly in the darkness. Now I know how cats feel chasing laser lights. It's pretty freaking awesome! So far, I have lost 8.2lbs after being stuck in the 250s since February. Also, bacon!

Cinco De Mayo 1/2 Sucks Today

Why is the first half of the day going to suck?

1. I'm at work from 7AM to 4PM today, and yes I am thankful to have a job for those who think I'm complaining, but my complaint is a righteous one today.
2. I was supposed to run a 5K this morning, but had to cancel it because of the Cinco De Mayo Party later today. I also work second shift, so I had to get some special arrangements made in order to be able to work the first shift today so that I can make the party tonight. That means no 5k because of work, and it was going to be one of the more scenic areas of Atlanta as well as a Peachtree Road Race Qualifier. Bahhh!
3. I suddenly realized, while driving in to work, that I won't be able to exercise AT ALL today. Normally, Saturday is my rest day so whatever workout I do I try to take it easy. Generally a light bike ride, a walk, or a light run. However, I'll be able to do none of that today because as soon as I leave work, I will have to go home, freshen up, get changed, and head straight to a party that promises to go until the wee hours of the morning. I love burning 1000 "just because" calories on Saturdays because I don't eat the healthiest on those days, but today I'm just stuck and it sucks, lol. Sure, I could walk through the beautiful park during my 30 minute lunch break, but due to the nature of the work and the fact that there is only 1 person per shift on weekends, it's not going to happen. At least I'm off tomorrow!

So yeah, the first half of Cinco De Mayo is going to blow serious chunks. However, the second half promises to be interesting and fun. I just hope I'm not too tired after work and be a horrible guest! Have a great day my friends! 

Bros Before Throws

Generally I'm known to write uplifting and encouraging blog posts throughout the year. I get good responses and of course I'm always glad to help those who know less than I as well as those who know more. However, I also like to write minor musings that I come across in the gym. It's nothing we haven't all experienced and had a chuckle or two about, but I figure it will bring a little light humor to someone's day and help me to improve my writing skillz (take that grammar Nazis), but I digress!)

I do a workout called the starting strength 5x5 program. It's based on progressive loading so the earlier weeks of the gym are relatively easy fair; fodder for the kiddies if you will. However, as the weeks progress, so too does the weights you lift. As you can imagine, with me being in week 9 the weights have gotten damn heavy. It really tests you as a man or a woman. As these weights get heavier, I have found that people's behaviors change based on the loads they place on their bodies. You have 4 basic personality types as it relates to lifting heavy weights: The grunter, The Spitter, The Admiral, and The Squirrel!

1. The Grunter Oh the grunter is a force to be reckoned with! He can lift Chevrolets! He can leap tall squat racks in a single bound. He is faster than a thrown 20lb dumbbell. He pushes himself to his absolutely limit and believes that his muscles are not built during rest, but during the actually act of exercise. That is the reason he spends more time lifting than sleeping. You can usually catch them in groups, desperately trying to outgrunt each other while lifting their grandmother's ass on their backs. Nearby women folk serve as amplifiers to this kind of lifter, as they seem to get increasingly louder as the number of women around increase, or if a single woman is directly within a 10 foot radius.
2. The Spitter The Spitters are guys like me. We resist the urge to grunt because we feel that it makes you look like retards and we don't want people to notice how heavy this weight actually is. We're quite humble. Instead of grunting when the weights get heavy, we spit. We never have to wipe down equipment because we're too embarrassed to sweat. However, we do have to wipe down the mirrors. It looks as if niagra falls decided to make sure it's hair was right with it's own reflection. We'll take a drink of water in the middle of the squat, realize the weight is too heavy, and try and spit ourselves through the rep. This results in angry gym management and even more spittle on the mirrors. Which, as stated earlier, we gladly wipe off when we're done.
3. The Admiral The Admiral is a man, or woman, who comes to the gym solely to be seen. Now, they have clearly put in work, but they must go to a magical land away from the gym to work their asses off, then return to the gym to show everyone their magical bodies. They are easy to spot. They walk with high swagger and even high confidence. Their backs are straight and they are constantly looking around everywhere as if they left their phone on the other side of the gym and are trying to determine whether they should go and get it or not. They spend a lot of time looking at themselves in the mirrors. Their only disappointment is that they can't have debaucherous sex with themselves. They generally travel alone, but you'll never find no more than two of them together. They are always of the same sex.
4. The Squirrel The squirrel has the heart. The squirrel has the desire. The squirrel is the beginner. The squirrel will not listen to ANYONE. The squirrel makes all of the mistakes, primarily the most unsafe ones. You see, the squirrel is the one lifting weigh more weights than necessary or leaning on the machines for settings much too high for their level of fitness. They try and try, but their legs and arms are as spaghetti noodles. It's hard to tell a squirrel unless they are on cardio or free weights. They are difficult to spot on machines. You know you are a squirrel if you're trying to do a squat or bench and your arms are doing the "Harlem Shake" every time you lift. So the next time you see one, just know that it's not Parkinsons. It's the squirrel!

The good thing about all these types is that they are who they are. We go to the gym and see different people doing different things. No two people seem to be on the same path. So, we can kill ourselves trying to figure out who is right or who is wrong. Just think of it like this: Go, see the sites, enjoy the show, and leave! Very high entertainment for the small price! Good luck!

Like a BOSS!

Many of my friends often hear me use the word "BAWSS." That word means everything to me and my journey, and I use it to push both myself and my friends. Too many times we compare ourselves to others and we look over our own achievements. That's not BAWSS. BAWSS is being able to look at what you are doing and striving to be your personal best. I don't give a damn if you only improved that running pace by 10 seconds, you're a BAWSS. I don't give a damn if you were only able to increase that weight by 5 pounds, you're still a BAWSS. I don't give a damn if are able to run 1 mile or 20, you're still a BAWSS. I don't give a damn if you tried everything in the book and it isn't working, you're still a BAWSS! 

To me, the best BAWSS's are not those of us that can do the most exercise. It's not those of us who can lift heavier, run faster, or run longer. It's those of us that are able to get online, even when we don't feel like it, and encourage a friend. It's those of us that are willing to share our weaknesses and gracious enough to accept constructive criticism so that we can better ourselves. It's those of us that are smart enough to know better and humble enough to accept when we don't. That is what makes every single friend I have a BAWSS. We encourage each other and drive each other to be the greek Adonis's that is hidden within all of us just waiting for it's chance to see the light of day. How awesome it is for you to work to make your body and life healthy, and enjoy them both as beautifully as it was meant for us. Hell, call me crazy but I say that may just be a little slice o' heaven!

So when I call you BAWSS, or reply "Like a BAWSS," that means you're freakin' awesome! I am encouraging you the best way I know how with everthing that I have in one word. It's the closest thing to saying I love my friends without sounding like a creeper, because they are all BAWSS! If all you do is leech off others, complain, and never contribute to the conversation, then you are not BAWSS! Everyone has a little strength to share, and even the old AncientMariner needs a pickup from time to time. I haven't had a friend yet to let me down. Even if you don't believe in yourself, believe in me who believes in you! Now that's BAWSS! Stay thirsty my friends!

Real Men: I Salute you!

You are a rare breed. You see, when she was all of 5'5" and 125lbs of pure brickhouse, you fell in love with her. You did things together. You made a life. You looked her in the eye and told her that she was the one for you and that there would never be any other. You stood by her side through the birth of your children. You held her hand and relieved her burdens during and after post-partem depression. When she was weak, you remained vigilant like a knight in shining armor waiting for his princess to awaken from her slumper. When she gained weight, you were more concerned for her health than you were about how you would look being seen out with her at the movies, at dinner, or on romantic evenings. Sure, you may have hinted at working out together or getting healthier together, but you patiently waited on her and made up in your mind that you would love her whether she lost weight or not. 

Of course there were temptations. There always were and always will be. But you remained steadfast. You glanced but did not stare. You spoke, but did not conversate. You knew that you had a diamond at home that perhaps needed to be a little polished, but was a diamond nonetheless. Even in your uncertainty, you remained on the path of righteousness. Though it was thrown at you (you know what I'm talking about), you resisted, came home, and loved her more than you thought could ever be possible.

Suddenly and without warning, she began to change. She began to understand your love and the mutual sacrifices you have made to be together. She then made a promise to herself, for herself, that she would be the best she could be to herself first. Then she would be the best that she could be to her family. You would come home and she would leave you with the kids and excitedly bolt out the door to the gym. She started finding friends that shared the same interest in taking care of themselves as she did and her self confidence returned. She began to get out with you and the kids to go on hiking trips and walks and anything else that would keep her family active. She basically began to become a BAWSS!

Today you look on in Awe. This woman whom you love had immersed herself into a dark space, a dark place. She was a bud without light; incapable of photosynthesis from artificial sources. But over the months you have seen the hard work, the pain, the sweat, the tears, the triumphs, and the disappointments. These have tempered that once small bud into a blooming flower that is capable of not only receiving the best light, but also producing her own. For you, your vigilance and hard work was not in vain. Your dedication and commitment to her was not a waste of time. You have been and will continue to be her rock. And what is your reward for all of this? You have a woman that will love you forever. She will be with you and have your back forever. She will be down with you like four flat tires! And as an added benefit, she will have developed into a brickhouse the likes of which you could have never imagined. She will be a living testament to her own commitment to herself as a prideful, soulful woman. She will offer her body to you and it will be as a brand new playground for your eyes and your hands only. 

Real men out there, I salute you. Continue to stay vigilant. Continue to stand by her. Continue to do these things not for your sake, but for her sake. Being able to see the look on her face when SHE looks into that mirror and accepts the beauty that you already know she is, IS reward enough in and of itself! So, from one man to another, I salute you, my brothers in arms!

Dear Anonymous MFP friend: I Apologize

Dearn Anonymous MFP friend,

We haven't met yet. I'm in your future. You will see me motivating someone else or you may see me post in the forums and think to yourself "Hey, that's a swell guy! I'd like for him to be my friend!" Allow me to apologize in advance, my new anonymous friend! 

I'm sorry I didn't let you down. I could have been much easier on you than I was, but I didn't do it. So often we think that we have control of our lives, but we lack the power to really wrestle that control on our own. Sometimes we need help. I'm sorry that I commented on your log because I cared about your health when you consistently ate 800 calories for a whole week, or for that 4 day period where you were over 1500 calories due to stresses in your life. I'm sorry that I wasn't the silent majority. Please accept my apologies for not even looking at your log and caring about what you wrote while just saying "Good job," "Way to go," or "Good looking buddy!"

I wish I could fail you. I wish I could let you fail yourself, but I can't. You see, I need you as much as you need me. We have to encourage each other and be there through each other's good times and tough times. I had a friend once, not you Anonymous new MFP friend, that used to always beat me over the back about not eating vegtables. I didn't cower away by hiding my diary, I didn't make excuses, and I didn't tell that good friend "Oh you just don't understand my situation!" I worked on it, I asked questions, I dialogued about it, and I fixed it! I'm still working on it even today, but thanks to that friend it is on my mind at all the time! 

Lastly, I'm sorry for asking you to help me. I'm sorry that I somehow made you assume motivation was a one way street instead of a 2 lane highway.  My sincerest apologies for trying to lean on your shoulder, fully expecting it to be there when my times were tough. It was irresponsible of me to assume that you would bust my chops the day I ate 3 bags of pork rinds and topped it off with 4 liters of coca-cola on a day that I wasn't spiking. Silly me for thinking that you would not allow me to fail myself, as I tried to not allow you to fail yourself! 

It will be a crazy ride new anonymous MFP friend. You will either ride or get rode on! You will either barbecue or mildew! Either way I wish you the best in your journey, regardless of the path you take. Please accept these apologies from the bottom of my heart, and know that I just wasn't able to be the friend you wanted me to be, but the friend you needed me to be. Take care new anonymous MFP friend, and know that if you ever want to take your hand off of the delete key under my name in the inevitable future, I'll be waiting under the squat rack with open arms and a pair of fresh running shoes!

The Gym Bag

Remember the first time you went to the gym. You were quite prepared. You had towels, extra shoes, 2 different watches, a couple of heart rate monitors, two sets of clothes, two bars of soap, your hairspray, your makeup kit, extra deodorant, and you even remember to bring your extra special loofa just for good measure. That's a lot of stuff to carry around, day in and day out, while you navigate the gym. 

 

As you, no doubt, continued to progress, you started to realize that it was okay to leave certain things behind. Your bag then began to shrink according to your situation. You became less afraid of what you don't have and more self aware of the badassery that lied dormant within yourself. All of this STUFF to prepare yourself for when your workout was over. It was an amazing shift in how you saw things.

 

You see, when you first started going to the gym with the extra special bag, the workout had to fit into your schedule. There were other things more important to you and the workout was just a part of the daily grind of life. It was nothing special. It came, it went, and you carried on. However, slowly there was change. 

 

You started noticing positive things going on with your body. You started becoming self assure and self confident. You begin to know your limits, and even better, how to overcome them. No one could tell you diffferent. Perhaps they laughed at first, now they sought you out for advice. Perhaps you had once been a student of the gym, but now had become a sage. More importantly, your workouts became a lifestyle. It became a part of you as integral as breathing. That was the day you showed up at the gym without the bag.

 

I'm reminded of Erykah Badu's song "Bag Lady." One of the lines she says "You can't hurry up, you got too much stuff." How much does that apply to your journey. Are you still lugging huge bags out to the gym, or have you become BAWSS enough to trust in yourself, your plan, and your direction to let the things weighing you down melt away? Take stock. Take inventory. You might just find that you left that bag at home a long time ago, and all that remains is the strap that used to pin it to your life. 

 

"To hell with circumstances. I create opportunities.” – Bruce Lee