The results are in!
I'm about to tell you a tale of the results of that 2012 Fitness Challenge I frassed about at the start of the year, here. For my friends who were really hoping the blog would be more "cat-centric", I'm sorry to report the kitties had to go back to their "real" dad. Also, for the visually stimulated among the lot of you- I apologize for no before or after pictures. My genial narcissism is tempered by my own self-consciousness/loathing...and dislike of topless photo's/photo's in general of myself. While I promise to keep this more factual than nauseatingly self-deprecating...I just think it'll be funnier if I tell it to you in...my own voice...Mostly, if you're interested in how the regime actually worked out for me.
Pictured: How I look at the end of a treadmill workout as I hang from the handrails- grimacing like I'm constipated and complete with a tubful of sweat, claws, and easily groomable body-hair.
Yesterday I was standing on the landing by the front door and rocking my winter running "costume" when I had an epiphany: While it is February...and stupidly balmy for MN...and there was really no reason I shouldn't go for a run...I actually said:
Fuuuuuck this.
And then I stripped out of my layers and crawled into bed for a power-nap. Do you know why? Because I was tired, and refused to feel guilty. And January is over, sucka's.
Not to put a fine a point on it- Le results, for the numerically saavy: (January 2012)
Total Workouts (Running/Weights/Karate): 37
Total Hours: 25
Total Miles: 80
Total Calories burned (est): 15,000
Height: 5' 10"
Weight: (pre) 183 (post) 180
(Note: Several of the workouts were doubled up and factually I worked out about 70% of January. Also, I don't log my "wake-up" routine of stretching/core work/upper body awakening. Or as Mr. McConnaughey sez: "Push-ups n' Sit-up's...all right all right all right")
So what did I learn? What was I hoping to gain from this? Going in, I was excited at the prospect of adhering to a new routine and sticking to it. To "not" give lipservice to training and really work my nards off- celebrity/professional athlete style! I knew that I'd either have to spend a considerable amount of time doing it. (Indicating that I either was very dedicated, or had no life to speak of. And let me tell you, friends- It's hard not to think you're the latter versus the former) I partly believed that my body would have a quick-ish response to the training and the results would be -hopefully- immediate. True, I wasn't eliminating everything from my diet like some pre-contest bodybuilder or Spartan king.
Put the Merlot and Muenster Cheese down, motherf#cker... I figured I had my calories measured so that I was maximizing my input/output necessary to facillitate my workouts and burn any other superfluous nonsense. My OTHER hope was to navigate down toward the 170's pound-age wise...but outside of a handful of times during a morning weigh-in I never dropped down there. Sure, I went down notch on my belt. And of COURSE the stupid fast twitch muscle fibers in my arms
liked having a day all to themselves. And while it wasn't shapely and sculpted, whatever subsequent weight loss happened as a result of spending more time isolating my chest allowed me to make out the (hopefully benign) sebaceous cyst that's lived in the area around my sternum my whole life.
Cyst? What cyst? I can't find anything between these throw-pillows I call my chest.Lastly? Man oh Man oh Man oh Man. I got soooooo fah-king tired. (occasionally) Trying to run at 5 then going to work at 6-7am then hitting the gym afterwards- OR going from the gym to karate to home again? (Karate "suffered" the most. I only wedged in 2 visits in January.) My ass felt like lead. And the soreness? In my muscles? Never really went away. There was always something new ripping and tearing and re-growing. My neck and back felt sledgehammered. (Which, if the article is to be believed, means I'm storing a shit ton of eeeevil on a cellular level...)
I started to get tired of the gross and sweaty laundry I was doing sometimes twice a week. The feeling like I had to bundle up for an outdoor run and the subsequent peeling off of clothes just because it was nice out. (Or because the cute couple I pass every morning that runs together made me feel guilty) The (sometimes) two showers a day. I ended up developing an unhealthy addiction to caffeine (natch) in order to push through the day which played hell with my tummy. And if I was going to a gig at the end of the day? I couldn't even nap because I was always exhausted AND wound up!
And in the end? I didn't even manage to do the 6 days on 1 off! Sometimes I'd give it a day, two days in between here and there. I literally could not even drag my butt out the front door or from work to the gym-And I brought my gym bag every single day. (To be fair, I convinced myself that they were getting grossly tired of seeing my face daily at the club) Finally, I reiterated this to myself. I thought: "This is why models and superstars are paid the big bucks. This is why bodybuilders & fitness enthusiasts get sponsers". And I didn't want to even be built like either.
I just wanted to try on something new for a bit and stick with it.
Without seeming like I'm grumbling too much: The original idea was, truly, to determine if that type of exercise was a good option for my overall wellness/strength. I think it was a good experiment, and like all workout kerfluffles in my life I'm keeping what was useful and discarding what isn't. The leg work alone made karate easier to recover from (and the karate has been helping my reflexes- I mean, in a useful way...I can't tell you how cool it is to be able to keep the bottle of Summit that you just accidentally tipped over from falling off the counter without spilling a drop.) Spending time focusing on one body-part does along (some) room for recovery and isn't forcing your body to over-tax. (And appear like an equipment hog)
And I still really like going to the gym. This much I'm fairly certain of. And making that and karate into second homes keeps me honest and out of trouble. Add to that, over the last 30 days or so I've spoken with people who are not only returning to the gym, but some just starting to discover their own path to health, weight-loss, wellness, etc. And as a motivator, that gets me jazzed to keep going as well. I might have been fibbing a bit when I said I'm dedicating the month of February to the couch (Although "Deadwood" is taking over my life). Sue me.
And I'll see y'all at the gym.
Labels: fitness, frass, lifting weights, self-loathing, selfishness, wellness
New Adventures Part Cat...Foster Care
I suppose this act could be construed as my eating crow amongst my friends. Michael says "Blah Blah I don't want/need a dog Blah Blah I don't want/need a new cat Blah". Pet sitting is pretty low-maintenance as long as the animal is chill, (ala' Deuce) and it affords me some quality animal time with the minimum of commitment (HELLO Telling Personal Character Trait!!! Ugh...). So I supposed it was naturally only a matter of time before we welcomed some form of filthy mongrel into our home for a longer period than a friend's vacation. And so today...Welcome to pet fostering!!! Say hello to...um...
Right. Puma and Cougar are a little bit shy.
Through the Jellybean's daughter, we ended up with a line on a pair of kitties that were needing a transitional home. She informed us that they were two boys, very low-key, and have been living alone while she visited them 2 x's a week for feeding/cleaning. After smoothing out the particulars, we agreed to take them on for the next few months. And so the last few weekends on the home front have been a flurry of activity. (The roommate, for those who know, spent about 28 hours over the course of two separate weekends laboriously cleaning his bedroom from top to bottom. For my part...I did some light vaccuuming/dusting and had a couple of beers.)
In case you're curious as to "how does it take
that long to clean a room?"...let's just say I'm (slightly) certain he was trying to de-Georgeify the place- his concern being that since they are both male cats, they might get set off sniffing out another former kitty. (Albeit, one that hasn't been around in over 16 months) And that
kiiinda was my concern as well, only not about the fact that there've been 2 different kitties in my house in my tenure. No, I was worried that the cats would become another casualty of their environment.
The 'Bean had a very
specific and
regimented way of caring for Georgie Cat. One that really didn't include catnip, treats (He kiboshed any treats, citing stomach issues) He'd stack boxes of kleenex set on top of high places to keep him from eating them...old plastic grocery bags kept locked away for the same reason. Very. Specific. So
now, I made a point to tell him before they moved in that they were going to be
our cats that we were fostering. And
we would be sharing responsibility. Of that much, I actually
put my foot down.
And so, without knowing what the hell they looked like...I came home last night to discover that there were two cats wedged beneath the fainting couch in the dining room. (One convalescing post-nut-snip-surgery) Cougar is the baby, at about 16-18 months. Puma is the shy guy with a squashy face and around 4 years or so.
And I hate their names. There, I said it. I don't care if they might be named after Big Cats...one sounds like the slang for an older woman on the prowl and the other is a lame Super-Villain...
My ability to bestow goofy nicknames notwithstanding, I'm going to need to have another sit-down with the Jellybean and see how flexible he could be with calling them something other than those heathen names. I made jokes about calling them "Arnold" and "Willis"...but it just doesn't fit. And the s#itty thing is that they're still pretty much hidden away so I don't know if they actually respond in some way to those names. Do I opt for witty and ironic? Weighty Historical names? Pop-Culture one-off's? Numbers? Something plain and easy...like "Barry" and "Carl"? "Frick and Frack"? This shit keeps me
awake at night, people.
Regardless...I had a small victory early this morning while my roommate and I comically laid down on the floor in front of the divan to try coaxing them out. I managed to get Coug to come to me,
and hold him,
and give him his post-neutering prescription without a fuss. My roommie almost started crying. The second- smaller- victory is that even though Puma doesn't come out, he's got such a fat ass that it sticks out the corner of the couch. And so...I scratch it.
It's early. There've been no snuggles nor accidents. (My roommate moved just about everything that he assumed could be knocked over to the basement...this
included my wine rack. I think another talk is in order. The basement is too far to go for Pinot Noir) Moreover and unfortunately, there'll be no pictures until they can drag their buns out for some quizzical exploration. I'm afraid you'll have to be happy with this...
And the fact that yes...I did procure a big old frassy bag of catnip and some Pounce...and those f#ckers love it. > : )
Labels: cats, frass, pets
Reviews: "Cowboys Vs. Aliens" et.al.
Available on DVD/Netflix/Redbox
"Cowboys and Aliens" is what happens when you're about to tuck into a beautiful hot fudge sundae with ice cream only to discover that it's mashed potatoes/gravy/meatloaf...and someone emptied a salt shaker all over it. And I actually sat through it. Bite, by mouth numbingly terrible bite.
All the elements are in place. From the title, the director, the stars, the concept. But, and this is a pretty trivial quibble but I want you to know it's about as obvious as a bad work-print: There were, like, 50 writers credited on this movie. It got to the point that someone would throw out a completely wasted non-sequiter line and I'd turn to my friend and say "
I wrote that one. Me." Except even with my terrible grasp of syntax/spelling etc. could have hatched a better fever dream than this dreck. And that's where I think I'll leave this review, with some parting wisdom: Here are some cardinal rules/sins/points of frass that I live by when it comes to watching/enjoying movies. I'm an awfully simple man with simple tastes (I own "Undercover Brother" for pities sake) and I'm also fairly forgiving as well. (I own the Star Wars Prequels, Wolverine, AND X-Men 3 for pities sake) And along with the old addage "Don't Bore Me" and "Don't Bait And Switch your Genre Movie" I'd like to add one that sounds like it was farted out by a matronly schoolteacher:
Don't waste all of that potential. I'm not mad. I'm just...disappointed.Not quite a full "MacGruber" (0/5) but hangs out with "Green Lantern" (1.5/5)(Quick bites! Smartly planned Moviethon Trifecta: "36th Chamber of Shaolin", "Lone Wolf & Cub", and "Kill Bill: Vol. 1/Vol. 2" All available on Netflix)You ever take the time to stalk out the films where you hear s#it like "Such and Such is a GREAT film, but borrows heavily from 'Blah' and 'Blah de Blah'..." You know what I mean. Tarantino is shamelessly honest about it. Lucas is famously known for it. And this reinforces my old man's assertion that there are "No New Original Ideas In Hollywood". (An idea I don't really share, but I like bellowing his little idiom's from time to time)
Having seen both "Bill" movies and knowing the background/where he bogarted the ideas- you'd think I'd have seen some of the original source material that have been cited by the filmmaker previously. No so. As a matter of fact, my knowledge of old chop sockey Kung Fu and Samurai Films is fairly incomplete. And for good reason. Sure, I've seen quite a few: (My friend AL and I talked about how USA Network had their version of "Kung Fu Theater"- Which replaced the Horror Film block of time "Groovy Movies".) and I've seen every Bruce Lee and most early Jackie Chan...as well as their knock-offs. (In addition to some bloody, bloody Samurai films)
What I can say is that I've never went through the entire Shaw or Kurosawa filmography and haven't felt too terrible for having missed them. They all tend to blend homogenously together in my mind and in spite of popular cult followings, I wouldn't be able to tell one from another if I was paid to.
That said, I added "36th Chamber" and "Lone Wolf" after poking through a wiki article about "Kill Bill" and finally got around to watching them. As a back to back to back piece, it actually lends itself to an entertaining afternoon/evening of cinema. Truth.
"36th" (Gordon Liu's debut) is your typical "dude gets his village impinged on, goes to the kung fu temple to learn, learns, becomes the best, goes back to his village and kicks ass" kind of film that we've all seen before- With the exception that it was actually one of the first to use the formula. There are some awesome "HOOO BOY HELL YEAH" moments in it, specifically during his training through the chambers. HOWever, my own hubris was that subsequent movies that copy the formula have done it a lot better. The kung fu is painfully slow, the bloodletting is obnoxiously bright, and the repetitive nature can get a little boring. (There's only so many times you can watch someone try to run across logs to cross a body of water- then fall in- before it gets old)
That's not to say it's a bad movie. Rather silly if you think about it. (And probably better after a couple of shots or beers.) What IS interesting is seeing exactly HOW shameless QT was in stealing some of the cooler parts of "KB I & II" with their embryonic counterpart in "36th". (The training montage with Pei Mei, carrying the water, the 1-inch punch and body conditioning etc? All there.)
"
Lone Wolf" (based on the Manga series of the same name) tells the story of a Shogunate executioner who was framed for a crime he didn't commit and, having been stripped of his post, goes wandering the countryside with his 3-year-old son Daigoro as an assassin for hire in order to reclaim vengeance on those who wronged them.
Okay, so it's a bit more complicated than that plot-wise. What you do get is about 85 minutes of tense action and some of the most unbelievably amazing sword fighting and displays of Japanese weaponry committed to film. The actor playing Lone Wolf/Itto barely registers an emotion for the entire film, only occasionally showing happy/sad (he usually wears a constipated grimace) and when he is finally goaded to action (either by circumstances or his own machinations) it is worth the time holding your breath leading up to it.
My only major gripes is that you can tell that it was part of a larger story ("Sword of Vengeance" is only one in a roughly 6 part film series) and my DVD had some sound/coloring issues. Worth noting are some of the special features which feature a preview for "Zatoichi the Outlaw"...by far the funniest 5 minute trailer that you've ever seen.) When you watch the sword work in "Lone Wolf", re-watch "KB: I" for the House of Blue Leaves fight or "KB: II" for the trailer fight scene. You'll get it. You'll get deja vu all over again.
So if you have an afternoon and evening to kill, you could do far worse than watching this film quadrology with friends.
Labels: frass, karate, martial arts, movies, Reviews
Pictured: How I look at the end of a treadmill workout as I hang from the handrails- grimacing like I'm constipated and complete with a tubful of sweat, claws, and easily groomable body-hair.
Put the Merlot and Muenster Cheese down, motherf#cker... 
Cyst? What cyst? I can't find anything between these throw-pillows I call my chest.
