I just re-read my last entry for squats and realized that I left both my readers wondering how my squat workout was going. Surely a big concern and despite my pithy words and quips that entry deserves an update.
Hopefully reading that entry gives you a full sense of what I was feeling that day. It's not just working out. It's not just lifting, it's a metaphor for so much more in my life.
Walking the weight out, holding it and walking it back in was the equivalent of saying "I quit." "I'm done." "This is too much." "It's over."
My knee hurt just too much. My spirit was broken.
I've not quit anything...or anything that I can remember, without my wife's help.
Squats are a metaphor or an analogy. Please allow me...
A proper squat requires that you first get under a bar suspended in air, put that bar with all it's weight on your shoulders, push your butt back (key) and descend with that weight. What happens at the bottom is madness. It's a swirling cauldron of pain, despair and fear. Newton is fighting you to keep that bar moving towards the ground. Every single physical science argument tells that weight to go to the ground. You grunt, you dig, your glutes fire and you rise up out of that morass. Every single rep you come out a new person.
Quitting while an option ,was not on the table.
So what are the options?
You can look at the guy quarter repping, you can make fun of the guy using the smith machine, you can look all around you...that doesn't fix the problem.
It doesn't fix the problem! That doesn't clean up your house.
So what do you do?
You swallow your pride, you examine the failure, you look at the reasons and you plan. You start over...
Starting over...
Starting over is a humbling process. Starting over does not mean you failed. Starting over does not invalidate your success.
Doing something wrong over and over...
Doing something wrong over and over...is insanity, especially when it's causing you pain.
You start over and work.
You work and then you happily announce to the world that you got 305 for 10 reps with no knee pain. What did the guy next to you do?
I don't know and I don't care.
Monday, February 23, 2015
Sunday, February 22, 2015
He Ran...
Dear workout friends, go ahead and skip this one.
Workout is going good, squatting, deadlifting, killing it in the gym.
I can't get this thought and phrase out of my head...he ran.
I use a King James Version Bible. Everything in the church is cooler and has been upgraded now, Christianity 2.0 or 3.0 or 10.0. You've got guitars and drums. Everything a yuppie needs but someone singing the crushing hymn, "It is well".
Words are so much better in the King James version, riotous living is translated loosely. It doesn't have the same panache.
I've digressed and mumbled too much.
Today in Sunday School we did a look at the Prodigal Son, the lesson is the Lost Son but could also be called the Two Lost Sons. It's a story of a son who turned away from his father and a story of a son who had also lost his way. I'm not going to reveal the part about the second son because that was the kicker, the last 15 minutes. You have to pay for that part. :) You should've been in Sunday School.
Also, there's a beautiful Rembrandt painting.
Another long digression...
When another Bible version uses a phrase it makes my ears perk up.
In both readings and my version, when the father saw his son coming back, it says he ran. He ran to meet him. The father was looking for him and he ran to meet him. Now, let's go back the story...the son had gone. The son had spent everything. The son had hit rock bottom. His plan was to go back and beg his father to allow him to be a servant. He was going to beg his own father to be a servant.
A couple of neat things happen here...it says the father saw him from far off. That means he was looking. That means he hadn't given up.
The father was looking for him. The father ran to him. He didn't make him walk all the way up the drive and come inside. He went to meet him. This was his son at his lowest point and he ran to meet him.
As a father and a husband, I'm reminded of my failure. I've been called to love my wife as Christ and I've been called as a father to love my daughter.
More than that, I've been called to love others.
How often do I run to meet someone in need?
How often do I run to comfort?
I used to think of myself as the Hulk. A looming, lurking monster, always vigilant in the darkness, ready to visit pain and destruction.
Maybe, I'm Baymax. As a Christian, my primary function is healing and secondary preventing harm.
We'll see. Doogie Howser out.
Workout is going good, squatting, deadlifting, killing it in the gym.
I can't get this thought and phrase out of my head...he ran.
I use a King James Version Bible. Everything in the church is cooler and has been upgraded now, Christianity 2.0 or 3.0 or 10.0. You've got guitars and drums. Everything a yuppie needs but someone singing the crushing hymn, "It is well".
Words are so much better in the King James version, riotous living is translated loosely. It doesn't have the same panache.
I've digressed and mumbled too much.
Today in Sunday School we did a look at the Prodigal Son, the lesson is the Lost Son but could also be called the Two Lost Sons. It's a story of a son who turned away from his father and a story of a son who had also lost his way. I'm not going to reveal the part about the second son because that was the kicker, the last 15 minutes. You have to pay for that part. :) You should've been in Sunday School.
Also, there's a beautiful Rembrandt painting.
Another long digression...
When another Bible version uses a phrase it makes my ears perk up.
In both readings and my version, when the father saw his son coming back, it says he ran. He ran to meet him. The father was looking for him and he ran to meet him. Now, let's go back the story...the son had gone. The son had spent everything. The son had hit rock bottom. His plan was to go back and beg his father to allow him to be a servant. He was going to beg his own father to be a servant.
A couple of neat things happen here...it says the father saw him from far off. That means he was looking. That means he hadn't given up.
The father was looking for him. The father ran to him. He didn't make him walk all the way up the drive and come inside. He went to meet him. This was his son at his lowest point and he ran to meet him.
As a father and a husband, I'm reminded of my failure. I've been called to love my wife as Christ and I've been called as a father to love my daughter.
More than that, I've been called to love others.
How often do I run to meet someone in need?
How often do I run to comfort?
I used to think of myself as the Hulk. A looming, lurking monster, always vigilant in the darkness, ready to visit pain and destruction.
Maybe, I'm Baymax. As a Christian, my primary function is healing and secondary preventing harm.
We'll see. Doogie Howser out.
Sunday, February 1, 2015
Trying The Next Post
This one's not going to be great.
Why didn't they hand off the ball?
I have the luxury of sitting at home and second guessing the coach's call.
Win or lose, it makes no difference on my life. Although, I did read a study that shows when the Patriots win the economy takes a down turn. That shouldn't happen due to the Saudi's trying to keep oil prices low in order to bankrupt the shale producers. Lower oil prices mean increased spending in our economy. The economic outlook is good in large part thanks to the Saudis...strange times. The lower oil prices will also hurt the Chinese and you should see the dollar strengthen in relation to the yen.
I digress. What has Bellichick won other than another title. In the wake of "deflategate", "spygate" and other cleverly plumbed titles, it's a kingdom built on...
Is it cheating? Is it good coaching? Can it be both?
Can the desire to win be so great that it leads you down paths you wouldn't and shouldn't tread?
As a society we are so obsessed with "winning" but quick to throw away success. Americans hate a success story. That's a whole idea to itself.
I'm reminded of fishing with my dad and he said "You can build a thousand bridges and they'll call you the Great Bridge Builder, but all you have to do is screw one goat."
This was also a strange game. It was a matter of a team snatching defeat from the jaws of victory.
It's not good, and I hate putting something out there this unfinished but I don't have much other than the pressure of people asking me to write.
Let's see if I can get the juices started again.
Why didn't they hand off the ball?
I have the luxury of sitting at home and second guessing the coach's call.
Win or lose, it makes no difference on my life. Although, I did read a study that shows when the Patriots win the economy takes a down turn. That shouldn't happen due to the Saudi's trying to keep oil prices low in order to bankrupt the shale producers. Lower oil prices mean increased spending in our economy. The economic outlook is good in large part thanks to the Saudis...strange times. The lower oil prices will also hurt the Chinese and you should see the dollar strengthen in relation to the yen.
I digress. What has Bellichick won other than another title. In the wake of "deflategate", "spygate" and other cleverly plumbed titles, it's a kingdom built on...
Is it cheating? Is it good coaching? Can it be both?
Can the desire to win be so great that it leads you down paths you wouldn't and shouldn't tread?
As a society we are so obsessed with "winning" but quick to throw away success. Americans hate a success story. That's a whole idea to itself.
I'm reminded of fishing with my dad and he said "You can build a thousand bridges and they'll call you the Great Bridge Builder, but all you have to do is screw one goat."
This was also a strange game. It was a matter of a team snatching defeat from the jaws of victory.
It's not good, and I hate putting something out there this unfinished but I don't have much other than the pressure of people asking me to write.
Let's see if I can get the juices started again.
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