The Cafeteria Lady

There is a woman that works as a Cafeteria lady for Aramark. They pretty much have a permanent contract with our company so they have been staffing and providing meals in our company cafeteria for years. I'm always cordial with the staff and we have a good time. One of the women, in particularly, knows that I have been working out and eating properly and she is very supportive of those efforts. It's not her thing, but she's a great listener and it's good to just "shop talk" with her in the mornings before my day begins.

Today, I had to go to the cafeteria and get lunch. Generally I bring lunch from home, but last night was "fend for yourself night" so the wife had not cooked anything for me to bring to work today. I ordered 2 plain chicken breast and, GASP, an order of fries! The heavens cracked open and millions of calories rained death across the sky. There was great wailing and gnashing of teeth. Colonel Sanders rode across the skyline on a pale white horse and hell followed with him, but I digress. 

So I ordered and took it to the register. The cafeteria lady was there waiting for me and ask me what I ordered. I casually told her "Two chicken bizzles with no sizzle and some mudderfreakin' frizzles!" Correctly understanding this highly intellectual urban dialect, she repeated "So you ordered 2 plain chicken breasts and fries?" To which I nodded with a cool, southern "Fa sho!" I think the dialogue was a bit more professional, but that's how I like to remember it!

When I told her what I ordered, she laughed. Hard. Not your typical girlie laugh like your girlfriend just pooted and she doesn't think you know she did it, even though you always do. No. This was a hearty laugh that came from her belly that bellowed through the room like a thrown bowl of grape jelly! She laughed, because for all of my health talk and temple consciousness, I was fallible because I was getting fries :)

She saw that one incident, and laughed. She's a good person, and generally joyous, so I know she didn't mean it in any type of mean spirited way. But let's talk about what she doesn't see.

She doesn't see the hundreds of pounds of weights lifted every week. She doesn't see the dozens of miles ran or the 4am wake up times for those runs. She doesn't see the sacrifice we put into our bodies and our lifestyles. She doesn't see the sweat soaking through my clothes because instead of giving my all to the television, I give my all to the steel and my running shoes. She doesn't see the disappointment of a pound gained, the joy of a pound lost, and the brazen tenacity to pick yourself up every time to hit that punching bag harder than you ever hit it before. She doesn't know what it takes to have one single mile left on your run and NOT slow down. She doesn't see!

I called out my order with confidence. We give everything we have and work too hard to be disappointed by a cookie, dissuaded by a fry, or sidelined by a piece of fried chicken. We are unmoved by the occassional piece of cake and unwavering when you wake up and feel like having a donut. We remain steadfast to our goals and revel in the journey we must take to get there. So if you want that THING that is going to go straight to your hips then I say have it, because you are going to be so busy moving your body that it won't even have time to settle in your stomach! Push just a little bit harder, lift just a little bit heavier, be just a little bit stronger and you WILL achieve your goal. You set the standard, stick with it, and your body has no choice but to get it's ass in line! Let's go get it! BAWSS!!

Kiss Me Baby

The KISS method. It's as simple as that. Keep It Simple Stupid or Keep It Stupidly Simple. The honorable martial arts legend, Bruce Lee, once said "To me, the extraordinary aspect of martial arts lies in its simplicity. The easy way is also the right way, and martial arts is nothing at all special; the closer to the true way of martial arts, the less wastage of expression there is."

I started running to get into shape. Indeed, that was my primary goal and focus on this wayward adventure. I've met PR's, overcome injuries, and busted through obstacles. Through this trial by fire I have grown to love it like a hobby. It is fun. This entire lifestyle of simply moving my body is fun. It is enjoyable, challenging, relaxing, and energizing. The moment it ceases to be fun will be the moment I quit and move on to something else. Fortunately, it is the type of something that has me hooked for life. It is my most efficient and honest means of self expression. 

I'd like to think that Bruce touched on something really important. We get so caught up in so many different diets, numbers, questions, self doubts, and uncertainties that we waste expression. When you run, jog, play tennis, lift weights, move your body, swim, or any host of other things that make you sweat, you are expressing yourself in its truest form. When was the last time you got out and ran just because? When was the last time you left the gadgets in the house and just moved to express yourself? I look over at my Garmin 305 that I got for Christmas and I was so excited to receive it. It is a miracle of modern technology and it can let me know almost anything I need to know on most of the exercises I do. However, it ties me to the numbers. It takes the beauty and art of my workout and presses it into a standard. It reminds me, sometimes, of how awesome I am not.

I would encourage you not to get caught up in the barrage of numbers. Keep it simple. Get out and run, swim, dance and express yourself in all that you do. Do not waste your expression, as it is too valuable to callously throw away to the dogs. While the numbers are important, they do not define who you are. They do not define your passion. They do not define your expression. Keep them in their place and control them as needed, but never lose yourself within their asphyxiating grasp! Every once in a while, keep it simple and remind yourself that you are a human. Good luck! 

Twas the Day I Was Weightlifting

A funny inspired by my good friend Kimbly71

Twas the day I was weightlifting, and all through the gym
People were curling in the squat rack, SHAME SHAME upon them
The cruisers were hung by the bench press with care
In the hopes that some muscular savior soon would be there

The newcomers were nestled all snug in their sets
While we heckled and secretly placed “who would quit first” bets
While I in my converse and under armour cap
Had just pumped up my brain to repeatedly lift crap
 
When across the room there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my squats to see what was the matter
Away from my 3 plates I flew in a flash
Only pausing once, to 2-step, in the midst of my dash
 
The fluorescent lights caste a surgical glow
Upon a middle aged gentleman who was squatting quite low
When what did my wondering eyes happen to catch
Creeping through his shorts was a forest covering his “sacks”

He went up and down so lively and quick
Unaware of his nether mane and fully exposed… stick
He counted his reps one by one as they came
One, two, three, four as he called out each by name

He continued to squat with his giblets exposed
Unaware of the draft blasting gently below
I glanced only peripherally if I correctly recall
As I did not want a full confrontation with this gentleman’s balls

I know that you’re asking how long did it take
For me to take notice of whether the curtains matched the drapes
I cannot tell you for I do not remember
The particulars of such debauchery on that cold cold December

And then in a twinkling, I looked to my right
To witness someone lifting… or maybe not quite
The woman had a 2 plate that was clearly too much
And she couldn’t bring it back up, she was about to be crushed

Why woman, oh woman, did you not get a spot
As I lifted the weight she said she “just plain forgot”
She thought she could handle just a little bit more
Since she did 50 for reps just two days before

Then the gym went all silent… no one dared make a sound
I looked over my shoulder and slowly turned ‘round
I could not believe my eyes… the truth began to unfold
There was the Russian Weight lifting Jesus, from legend of old

I had only heard of him on the internet through forums and such
A man whose skill was unmatched… squat couldn’t be touched
He would choose you at random with knowledge to impart
That would turn basic weight lifting into a certified art

He chose me at random and worked on my form
He said “Hell hath no fury like a squat incorrectly performed!”
I learned about squats and I learned about oats
And when he demonstrated his 5 plate the weight seemed to float

Finally demonstrating my set I turned towards the mirror
My purpose secure, my vision much clearer
I turned back ‘round to thank him for my body was spent
For as silently he had come, thus silently he went

So was the day I went weighlifting, I hope it helps ya’ll
From the weight lifting Jesus to the gentleman’s balls
So the session is over, and this class is dismissed
I just hope the mods don’t read my poem and thusly get pissed!

Also... BAWLLS! 
 

The AncientMariner aka Saffmeister AKA Team BAWSS

That's What Friends Are For!!!

Growing up I was a loner. I was as adept at living life without friends as I was with friends. Even today, I can count the number of real life friends I have on both fingers. Often, I justify this with the age old mantra of "quality over quantity," but even that sounds like a fallback for only the loneliest of people. Truth be told, I would rather have a million friends whom cared about me as much as I cared about them, but unless you're Zuckerberg that's impossible. Now that I think about it, I wouldn't want even a fraction of the percentage of "friends" that dude has anyway, lol!

We have many discussions about motivation. We talk about being the wolf and getting up on your own two feet. We talk about pulling yourself up by the boot straps and owning your journey! We even tell you that at the end of the day it's YOUR journey and you put into it what you get out of it. All of this is very true, but what do you do when the chips are down? What do you do when it seems that you've been sidelined with injury and a lack of motivation? How do you keep going when there are things like death in the family that makes you question the very reason you exist in the first place? That's where your friends come into play.

It took me many years to understand the concept that "A friend in need is a friend indeed!" I didn't understand that until I was a grown man. I have been sidelined from my passion and love of running for nearly 2 weeks. I expected my MFP friends to sort of let me fade into the dust. I expected to be let alone to go quietly into that silent night. I expected all of my other running buddies to say "Sucks to be him, let's find someone else to focus our energy on!" However, that didn't happen.

My friends came through for me in the truest ways possible. Certainly, they sent the well wishes. However, they did something I never expected: They cared. They challenged me to stay the course and keep being the BAWSS that I had relentlessly encouraged others to be. They reminded me that quitting was not an option and that I have not earned the right to be discouraged. They kept running, lifting weights, and doing their various programs. When they were done, they doubled back, gave me a shoulder to lean on, and said "Brother, now it's time for us to cross this finish line together!"

A friend in need is a friend indeed. My bravado, empathy, and motivation of others has never once been false. With this injury, I got a taste of my own medicine and it was not bitter. It was not the hemlock in the chalise of empty words and false hopes. It was the sweetest, most invigorating drink I have ever had the privilege of putting to my palate.

I couldn't ask for a better team. I couldn't ask for better friends than those I have found here on MFP. Geography may separate us, but the love and passion that we put into all that we do shines through everyday under the umbrella of a common goal: To be healthy and fit, and to make sure that those we encounter do the same. All I can say is thank you, because I absolutely do not have the words...

Ode to The Run

Wake up! Wake up! The time is nigh!

Look up! Look up! Into the sky

So creamy and blue, it's about high noon

I anticipate and long to be running soon

I lace up my shoes and grab all my gear

It's almost that time for my run to come near

What joy to be had as I revel with glee

As i anticipate the run overwhelming me

I bolt out the door and my what a rush

My heart begins racing, my doubts are all hushed

The earth breathes a sigh as I take it all in

I am one with the world... a child of the wind

I dash past my fears and surpass every stress

The road welcomes me wholly, my destiny's manifest

The sun smiles so warmly upon my face

And the clouds slowly frolick leaving trails of white lace

The run becomes timeless, its purpose secure

I move deftly and swiftly, of that I am sure

And should there be an obstacle to suddenly occur

I'll dart cleanly past it, no doubt, as a blur

Smell that! Smell that! It's a love for the trail

We run for ourselves and thusly prevail

Thinking of running before it's begun

I miss you my dear... my ode to the run!

 

Fat Flapping Flippantly in The Fierce Wind

I remember when I first attempted running. I don’t consider it a serious attempt because it was long before I found C25K, but it was an attempt nonetheless. There I was, in 90 degree heat in the middle of the summer, trying my best to run. I had gotten near the local park and I saw this Geo Metro approaching with what appeared to be 4 considerably obese women inside of it. As they passed they yelled out, “Look at fat boy trying to run!” Wow! Talk about the pot calling the kettle black, but I digress. It affected me to the point that I gave up running and it would be another year before I tried any form of exercise again.

As I have browsed the forums, I have seen many people whose situations were similar to mine. They get negativity from home or while they are out and it destroys what little confidence they had mustered up to get out there in the first place. When I first started the C25K program, I always ran with music and a pair of dark sunglasses. I didn’t wear glasses and listen to the music because it was sunny outside and I enjoyed keeping pace, I did it so that I wouldn’t be able to hear any hurtful, baseless comments coming my way. I wore the glasses so that I wouldn’t have to look into the eyes of people I passed, for fear they would laugh at my protruding gut and my heavy breathing as I stumbled past them. However, as I continued to run, I noticed a few things along my journey.

Running is a challenging task in and of itself when you don’t have the proper tools to usher you into such a beautiful and relaxing exercise. Worrying about how you look while doing it certainly exacerbates any related issues you may have with it. However, as I continued to run I noticed that people were noticing me less. Some would blow their horns and I would look their way and they began to yell out encouragement or simply give thumbs up! Interestingly, as I continued to run, I cared less and less about what people thought. I always think to myself, sure, go ahead and laugh now, but when the summer comes and I’m running this path shirtless, I wonder who will be laughing then! It not only sculpts your body into a force to be reckoned with, but it also begins to shape your mind. You begin to find your own self worth and you also begin to find a renewed confidence unlike any other.

You see, with running you have to push yourself. Your greatest enemy is your own mind. My good MFP friend StreetNameJim said it best when he started running, “I can’t believe how much of a head game this is.” Everything is in your mind. Your ability, your endurance, your perception is all there. As you continue to run, you eventually get to a point where all of these things become a harmonious “ONE.” Once that is achieved, you find that suddenly it’s not about the time, the pace, who is watching, and what they are thinking. You suddenly realize that it’s all about you. It’s all about your challenge and your personal goal. That, I argue, is the point when you find your true ability. I don’t call it limitation because I don’t believe there are any when running. Certainly, there are physical considerations, but the mind is an endless sea of personal possibility, challenge, and accomplishment. Coaches will tell you to get your head in the game when playing soccer, football, tennis, swimming, or any other sport out there. This approach has its benefits, but for the purposes of running, I dare say get your head out of the game. Own your space and own your time. You will then transcend from a mere runner, to one bad mother (hush yo mouth!).

No matter what sport or exercise you do, never worry about who sees you. Think about the last time you saw someone exercising and you said, “Wow! I would love to be in that person’s shoes. I would love to be able to do what they do while making it seem so easy doing it.” That, my friends, is what people are thinking when they are watching you. People complained that they feel like a freak show. There is no freak show, but if you  must put on a show, make sure it’s the best damned show they will ever see. Good luck in whatever you do to achieve your fitness goals and remember to do it like a BAWSS!!!