Adrenaline & The Spray Tanned Brotherhood

I remember two powerful moments from my first bodybuilding competition.  Standing in a line of bodybuilders about to walk on stage was like squatting at the airplane door, strapped to my jump master and the door opens.  I know what's coming.  I want it, but I'm scared as hell!   This was it!  And I was ready!  I knew inside there was nothing I would have done different.  I had  prepared to the best of my knowledge and ability.  Training never slacked.  I stayed true to my diet, short of nibbling a couple ears off the kids Teddy Grahams, but I had finally gone all the way with my biggest fitness goal, standing there at 4.25% bodyfat.  It was an awesome feeling.  I'll never forget it.

Posing on stage for the first time was 10x harder than I imagined.  The combo of adrenaline, nervousness, and squeezing every single muscle so tight had me shaking like a fool.  It surprised me!  In seven long minutes, it was all over.  "Great looking class."  The judge said.  That was our queue to exit the stage. 

Walking off stage felt like a rockstar moment.  I never imagined what a rush it would be!  Adrenaline is my drug of choice.  I've always loved it.  This was akin to jumping out of an airplane or being 20 yards from a screaming bull elk with your bow drawn, shaking so bad because of one fear...blowing it!  I didn't expect to like it so much.  But it got me! 

 My memory was not of just being proud of myself, but I distinctly remember feeling proud of every competitor I was out there with.  All of us put our bodies through some serious pain and effort to get there.  They were just a bunch of my brothers working to become the best version of themselves too.  That was pretty cool!  I remember wanting to tell them I was proud of all of them.  But I didn't.  I just kept that to myself.  I think I just puffed up my chest, flexed my lats and said, "Good job bro."   

A Stinky Proposition

This prep I've become hooked on twice-a-day cardio.  Upon waking, I hop out of the sack, stumble out into the garage of pain, and throw on the set of running shorts that need washing.  I step on the scale,  then throw some BCAA's and a scoop of whey down the hatch.  I'm  treadmill before I can think twice about it.  I flip on an episode of Justified or The Walking Dead and the HIIT cardio begins.  After a half hour, I'm drenched and stinkin' to high heaven.   It's a glorious ritual that MUST be followed by the first shower of the day.

Nearing a bodybuilding competition, it's customary to stop the deodorant ritual.  The spray tan can react to any residue and cause a reaction, turning the armpits green.  Not a pretty "Incredible Hulk" green, but a mossy, moldy green.  It's a less desirable look when hitting a front double bicep pose. 

The funky odor gets a little obnoxious two weeks prior to the competition.  The next smelly flare up of the day comes 15 minutes into the afternoon workout.  When weight training is complete, I'm ripe for a second cardio sesh.  And I mean it when I say ripe.   I pick the furthest stepmill from any women.  I try to settle into the Outdoor Channel or something marginally entertaining during this grueling sprint.  Then I begin to run the gauntlet.  Running up the stepmill is obnoxious enough, but the waft of skunky air I'm throwing off is too much for any woman to have to handle.  I feel bad when a woman unknowingly steps on a machine next to me and wonders if something died. 

I smell like a dead moose, but I 'm alive! 

I sometimes think of the great Matthew Mcconaughey who said he believes "A man should smell like a man."  He doesn't wear deodorant either.  He's not bodybuilding, he goes all natural because he doesn't "like to smell like someone or something else."  And to that I say, "Alright, alright, alright!" 

I savor this temporary funkiness.  It reminds me of my effort.  I also look forward to the weeks ahead when I can enjoy the finer things in life again, like deodorant. 

I believe he showered up for his solid Oscar speech.  Like his hygiene or not, he seems like a pretty good dude!

Classic Bodybuilding

When I put the garage gym together, I ordered a 6'x6' mirror, framed it with 2x12 boards, and painted it black.  It's our training and posing corner. Tonight I spent some time with my boys in our corner, working on their posing routines for the upcoming show.   After tucking Superman and the Incredible Hulk in bed, it was my quiet time to put together my posing routine.  I began scanning through photos of my favorites, the old school bodybuilders.

I am impressed by all of the pros, but the ones I aspire to pose like aren't the mass monsters of today's sport.  It's the artistic style and physique of the classic bodybuilders that I'm drawn to  They way they sculpted and posed the body became the model for statues, posters, and all of the bodybuilding trophies.  I practiced the most aesthetic poses from Arnold, Frank Zane and Ed Corney.  They truly mastered the art.  I have admired posters of these guys since I was a kid.  I'm just a bigger kid now, trying to emulate their poses for my fleeting moments on the bodybuilding stage.  

It was an inspiring hour.  The music, the concentration, and trying to pose the body in an artistic way felt good.  Sweat dripped from every pore.  It's not as easy as the masters make it look.   But the process felt great.  I experienced a high from it.   I came in and told Kristen how inspiring it was,  to try to emulate the great ones by posing like they did.  She said it reminds her of how she feels doing yoga.  That made sense. 

I remember my mother in law saying to me, "I've never really  been able to understand the whole bodybuilding thing."  That was no surprise.   As for me, I've always liked it.  But tonight, alone in my garage, in front of a big mirror, I came to understand it on a much deeper level.  And it truly inspires me to master the art.

Sunken Eyeballs

“Why do you do this to yourself?”  My well-meaning friend asks.   I assume he is referring to my “sunken cheeks and recessed eyeballs”.  I can see from the look on his face, he thinks I’m torturing myself.    I think about my friend's question for about a half second.  Why do I do it?  I smile big and say, “Because I love it!”  He smiles too, shakes his head and says, "I don't get it."  I don't expect him to. 

I glance in the mirror and see the crypt keeper staring back.  That means I'm ready.  When the body is stage ready, the face suffers.  It's not a handsome look.  Every skull looks better with a little fat on it.

There are a lot of competitors, both men and women who seem to "suffer" through the contest prep phase.  They have that "suffering" look and I can tell it isn't fun for them.  I probably do too, but for the most part, I don't suffer.  There are those times when it is hard, attitude, energy, stamina, strength are in the toilet.  But I see the majority of people have days like that too, who aren't dieting.  It's just part of life.  Figuring out how to make it work for our own life is key.  I eat a little chocolate daily.  I eat at a mexican restaurant most days.  I eat whipped cream, muscle pancakes, and my own bodybuilding french toast.  I'm rarely ever hungry for more than a half hour and I absolutely love the killer gym sessions.  Pain is necessary, suffering is optional.

When I see other competitors suffering and going through their own hell, I think to myself,  "why  do this if it makes you miserable?" 

I'm tempted to ask them, "Why do you do this to yourself?" 

But I don't.  They would probably just grin and say, "Because I love it."

Incremental Change

I must not be at the magical number of days to form a habit.  I didn't think once about my blog commitment today.  I was in bed, I was about to drift off and wake up to the horror of  having to follow through and give $1,000 to my anti-charity, aka. Hillary Clinton. 

Nevertheless,  my Jiminy Cricket came through and reminded me in the final hour.    Wheeew!  Thanks 'lil buddy!

I had a great question from my high school bud, "I want to get back into working out ...do you have a program you could share with me that would help me explode?"  To which I gave him the pop rocks and coke recipe.  I was amused. 

The truth is, aside from dianabol smoothies, and sticking needles in your butt, I don't know of any way to blow up.  But I am a hard gainer.  I eat a shload of food, train six days/week and swallow all of the supplements I think might help.  And I think I may have gained 2 lbs of muscle the past year.  The scale actually says I haven't gained any.  But I refuse to believe I didn't bring about some change.    So I'm going with a realistic and optimistic 2 lbs.  But I did change my body, new detail in my back, thickness in my legs.  And my calves exist for the first time. 

We bring about changes in our bodies so slow, it's like a drop at a time.  We can eat donuts every day, and in a week we don't look much different.  A month, a little bit.  Three months is noticeable and a year, we aren't wearing the same clothes.

Getting in shape is the same.  One week, you don't see it.  A month, absolutely!  Three months we can change our body fat dramatically.  One year is enough time to transform twice over.   But it seems so slow when you are doing it.  But looking at a before picture after 12 week transformation, progress can be awesome! 

Building muscle takes consistently taxing the muscle, tearing it down, and feeding it an excess of calories, with an emphasis on protein.  But most of all, it takes TIME!  To build a truly impressive physique I believe it takes five years. 

I'll continue to share, and put some training info on the blog.  But I doubt anyone is going to explode with my methods.  If I knew the secret, I would sell it to you.  I'd even give you a discount because you are my friend!  But that would make me a drug dealer. 

But this advice is free.  It happens slow.  Be patient, be consistent and hit it hard every day.

Fat Loss Torture Baths

There are a lot of ways to get lean.  I am not certain this is one of them.  However, thumbing through The Four Hour Body by Tim Ferris, he made a case for why Michael Phelps supposedly burns 11,000 calories/day.  By being in 80 degree water for 4-6 hours/day swimming, his body is under a thermal load trying to heat itself up.  So if one can get the body really cold, where you shiver for hours, the body is burning mega calories trying to heat you up to the magical temp. 

I figured it's worth a shot.  Besides, whenever I see an icy stream, I wonder just how cold it really feels. 

For the record.  I shivered for three hours. 

Motivation vs. Inspiration

We hear a lot about motivation. People often tell me they want or need to get themselves motivated, to get in shape. I get it, motivation is hard! Other words for motivation are: prompt, stimulate, activate, incentivize, and push. Sometimes my brain thinks in pictures. Here’s one of motivating myself. I’m holding a big stick with a boot fastened on the end. I’m reaching back and kicking myself in the butt to do something I don’t want to do. I don’t like it. To me, motivation is pushing ourselves from behind, or having someone push us. It takes energy and willpower, which is often in short supply.

Inspiration on the other hand, pulls us toward it. Like a 40" full curl ram atop the highest mountain. I don’t care how hard it is to get there. That’s why I train for this stuff. I don’t mind the pain in my legs, the burning lungs, or how grueling it is. I am inspired to climb for just one shot at the prize. There is nothing pushing me, I’m being pulled!

I know that scenario doesn’t inspire most people. But the key is to find YOUR inspiration. What is your inspiring reason for wanting to change your body, or anything else you have in mind?
When setting goals, the majority of people set a goal to exercise. But that’s not a goal. There is nothing inspiring about running down the side of the road, eating dust. There has to be a bigger reason. A joyful purpose for doing the exercise that is going to bring about the results you want.

If I wasn’t bodybuilding or hunting big game, I would need to find another reason to stay in shape. Those just happen to be goals that inspire me. My motivation for lifting weights is to be strong, and to transform my body into the picture I have in my head of the physique I want. I am still in pursuit of that vision. I want my legs, back, heart and lungs healthy so I can compete in the backcountry with the animals who call the mountains home. To go hunt an animal on his turf, where he trains every day to stay alive requires some effort and a fine tuned machine. At least to make it an enjoyable process and not a hellish torture week.

I want to stay in good shape for other reasons too. My family deserves the best from me, and I don’t want to spend a fortune on medical bills. There are a lot of good reasons to be healthy. It just so happens that I am inspired by the fun things. It takes the drudgery out of exercise and diet.

This principle applies to everything. If you're tired of kicking yourself in the butt, try getting inspired instead. It's easier.

The Push

Starting is easy, finishing the course is hard. Or is it?

Years ago I went to an author's workshop put on by Mark Victor Hanson, the Chicken Soup For The Soul guy. The first thing I remember was him asking audience of 1000 published and aspiring authors by raise of hands, who were good starters but poor finishers. I raised my hand and expected to see 1000 hands. It looked to me like most of the crowd raised their hand. Then he asked how many were poor starters, but excellent finishers. To my surprise, there were just as many finishers in the room as starters. He instructed us starters to make note of the finishers around us, and get to know a few. Every starter needs a good editor, and vice versa. Mark holds the Guinness Book of world records for most books sold. At the time it was 144 million. But I don't think he has ever written a book solo. Jack Canfield is his finisher and together they formed an highly successful partnership. He has written a lot of other books, but he's never the only one.

It is beneficial to know ourselves, and seek a partnership that can help us succeed, and where we can help our compadre push harder and finish the course.

Today I needed a partner. My "brother in Iron" (Mike) is in San Diego, sending me photos of fish tacos, while I'm trying to muster the gumption to go to the gym. I called my buddy Jacob. No answer. So I got all jacked-up on pre-workout supplements with intent to train in my garage. Then I farted around long enough for it to wear off. Kristen tells me there's a coyote chewing on something in the back yard. It's a moose bone. I can't say how the bone got there. I tried to save that moose bone from it's fate but my arrow grazed belly hair and the scoundrel bolted I lost focus and grew tired again. Jacob, my meat-head guardian angel called and saved me. We had a killer training session and stunk like dead moose when we finished That's a good indicator of a good workout.

Most pursuits I prefer to have a partner. I enjoy my own company just fine. I do a lot of things solo, but when I'm feeling weak, I really don't need a partner to push me, but I benefit having a partner to do things with. Then I come alive and can push them. It gives me purpose. And pushing myself comes natural. Today my purpose was to: Expend max energy at the gym and make Jacob throw up doing cardio.

The first was a success. I came close on the second. I heard the "P" word mentioned a couple of times. But he finished successfully. Maybe next time.

Last Leg

I'm the flamingo in the middle.

I used to get asked about the white strings hanging out of my shorts.  They were my legs.  I was born without legs, sort of.   The good Lord saw fit to make me work for my legs if I wanted them.  I want them.  

I used to approach leg day with fear and loathing.  Sometimes I still do.  Because I know it's going to suck,  If done right.   Mike and I don't always get to train together, but we arrange our days to make sure we can hammer legs as a team.  We need the support to do what we have committed to do to our lower halves.  He taught me to hammer them way beyond anything I had done.  I used to train legs like a sissy.  Not anymore.  We Squat, and press, and squat some more, and curl, and extend, and destroy our calves.  And no workout is complete without walking lunges.
Shortly into this new leg routine I found myself puking in the icy parking lot.  A lady walks by asking if I'm okay. "Perfect!" I reply, in a masochistic way.  I actually liked it.  I broke through the fear and embraced the suckiness of it all!  From then on, leg day is the day we inflict the heaviest load on ourselves.  We stack the bar with a scary weight, for at least one set just to prove it can't crush us.   We grunt and sweat and pant and look like complete disasters limping out the gym doors.  We are half worthless the rest of the day and end u  walking funny for the next 6 days, just in time for another leg workout. 

Today was the last leg day before competition.  In my mind it would be a glorious milestone of another year of effort wrapping up.  But there was no celebration, no steak afterward.  Today it just sucked.  Sucked the life out of me that is.  But I finished my course, I kept the faith!  And another year of legs is complete.  Next week on the stage I get to see what changed. 

Midlife Crisis

Apparently I was a topic of conversation that worked it's way back to me.  I know it would have bothered some people, but I honestly got a chuckle out of it. 

An acquaintance of mine was a little concerned about my bodybuilding.  So much so, that they talked to someone else close to me, to find out if I'm okay.  It's always best to get gossip secondhand.  The person close to me asked the acquaintance why they thought I was now competing in bodybuilding.  The person's response was "I guess I just assumed it was a midlife crisis."  But that's not why the person was worried about me.  They were concerned that it would lead to infidelity and divorce.  

Now I don't care who you are, that's damn funny right there!

I did a five second soul search.  The question I asked myself was, "Do I look like a guy in crisis?"  I didn't have the answer.  But if I do appear that way, then I had the midlife crisis thing all wrong.  It looks like I have a lot more cool stuff to look forward to.

The big issue is cheating on my wife.  To which I can unequivocally respond, I AM A ONE WOMAN MAN!  Truly I am.  Just like the great majority of Glauser men.  I am crazy about my wife.  I've got life too good.  We may have lived with God for over 600 million years before we came here to this earth.  When I was searching for a bride, I took my time and went on so many dates, I couldn't even count.  It took five years of dating, searching, and spending countless dollars on what ended up being other dude's future wives.  When I finally found Kristen, I knew I hit the mother lode. 

Another factoid, I don't even see those bikini babes backstage. I put the blinders on.  They make me nervous.  If one of those beauties did say something to me, I would most likely stutter out a nonsensical low carb response with a little drool.  Best to avoid them.  Besides, I'm too wrapped up admiring my own glutes to pay attention.  And checking out the other dudes physiques.  And there is nothing to worry about there either.  I promise.

I share this so none of my friends "worry" about me.  I haven't lost my integrity or my soul.   And if you see me having a ton of fun in life, cut me some slack.  I'm just a guy in crisis, trying to make the best of it.  And hoping it doesn't end. 

Do Hard Things.

Bodybuilding was something I thought I would like to try once, a bucket list type thing.  I just wanted to do something scary, hard, and get in crazy good shape, just once.  But the process changed me. It inspired me.

This is a freak sport.  It's not everybody's cup of tea.  But it inspires me to grow, push beyond my own limitations, and seek another level.  I hope to be able shine a glimmer of inspiration your way, and encourage you to pursue your dreams and goals.  Whatever they may be.

That is the intent of this video.  It's the journey of me and Mike Mortensen training for the 2012 Alaska State show.  It was my first.   And I am deeply grateful for the experience.   

If You Drop An Egg...

My Mom taught me a phrase over a decade ago that was taught regularly at Weight Watchers.   Which I might add is a pretty awesome weight loss program.   WW has helped literally millions lose weight.  It almost makes me feel guilty about a promotion I ran years back when we owned the donut shops.  The special was  "Bring in your gym membership card and get 2 for 1 donuts."  "Bring in your Weight Watchers or Jenny Craig card and get 3 for 1 donuts."  I was pretty stoked when a lady came in and got the donut deal, who was enrolled in the Jenny Craig program.  I remember feeling a little guilty.  She probably did too.  I guess that makes it even.

Back to the egg and dozen thing.  "IF YOU DROP AN EGG ON THE FLOOR, IT DOESN'T MEAN YOU HAVE TO THROW THE WHOLE DOZEN."  My interpretation is: just because a Hostess jelly donut jumps in your mouth, (like they sometimes do), doesn’t mean the day is lost, pig out with a promise of starting over tomorrow, or better yet monday.   A little cookie here or a half donut there, never made anyone obese.  Just wipe the crumbs off and keep truckin'.

When I decided to honestly do something about my eating, it wasn’t because I was ridiculously  overweight.  I was a sugar junkie.  "Double fisting bear claws" like Chris Farley.  I once baked a batch of chocolate chip cookies, and over the course of an hour or two, I devoured 8 of them.  The kids and Kristen went to bed, so I ate two more.  I didn’t really want to, but they were looking at me funny.  I was seriously sick to my stomach.  But there were still two cookies on the tray.  The fat guy said, “we might as well eat them, there are only two left.”  My skinny guy retorted, “I’m gonna puke!”  The fat guy always has an answer that makes more sense, “We can’t have them in the house or we’ll just eat them, you know that!  Let’s get rid of them now so we won't be tempted!  Just stick 'em both in my mouth.”  So I did.  And I wanted to lurch!  I felt so low about myself.  I was absolutely an addict.  I was now talking to myself out loud.  I said, “I need to do something drastic.”  And I thought of my friend Mike, the bodybuilder.  I picked up the phone.  Now I'm addicted to bodybuilding.  (I'm actually not)

So, to wrap things up, If we are dieting, and drop an egg, we don't need to throw the whole dozen on the ground and roll around on the floor wallowing in the slime.  It's just not necessary.

What Are You Thinking?

Here's something I have been fascinated with since I heard it seven years ago listening to Wayne Dyer speak in Salt Lake City.   He surprised me with an idea about food. He said,  "What you think about the food you eat, is just as important as the food you eat." 

It sounds a little crazy, but I believe it has some truth to it.  If someone is worried about their weight, and decides to eat a donut or a hot fudge sundae, what do they say?  "I shouldn't eat this...this is going to make me fat."  If our mind is the control center of our body, digestion, metabolism, etc., and the body does what the mind says, then we might be telling our body to store fat.  Think about it. 

Cellular Biologist Bruce Lipton says, “You can control your genes by influencing your beliefs and personal attitudes. How I see the world and my perception controls not just internal biology and genetic behavior but it controls how I create a world around me, your mind’s perception of the world changes the biology and chemistry of your body which changes the cells in your body.”

In my experience, It's true.  We shape our world, and our bodies first with our mind. 

Now I'm not a guy who believes if you are broke, you should look in the mirror every day and tell yourself how rich you are, and you will become a powerful magnet attracting it.  I think it's better to face reality and get to work.   Just like it doesn't make sense to eat a junk diet and tell your body it's good for you.  I think that's called delusional.  You'll end up in the funny farm.  We need to be realistic about it.

But I do believe the mind is a powerful thing.  It can create and invent miraculous things.  The mind has a powerful energy, when harnessed can bring forth incredible strength, and heal life threatening diseases.  So why shouldn't it be able to instruct our body to burn it.

I know I have changed my internal dialogue regarding food.  When I have a cheat meal I never say, "This is going to make me fat."  I tell my body to burn it.  "This is just fuel.  Metabolize it, don't store it...BURN IT!!!"  Then do the work!

That's what I told myself tonight at Red Robin!  I haven't had a splurge in a month, I have been a little neurotic about the diet and cardio this prep.  Even when I said I would splurge, I couldn't do it.  But I followed through tonight and boy was that cheeseburger and fries was good!  My body needed it.  And I believe I've already used it all up!

Make No Mistake

I'm not a treadmill bunny.  But, I feel like one lately.  I don't spend much time on the cardio machines throughout the year.  But the goal of striated glutes, lures me in.  Being fixated on dieting down for bodybuilding prep is a strange endeavor.  Building muscle requires a calorie surplus and a growth mentality.  Burning fat requires creating a calorie deficit and calls for a completely different mindset than building muscle.  To get in contest shape, you have to consciously "throw the mental switch", stop growing for a season to focus on shrinking down.  All this blogging about  fat burning and getting lean, might make you think I love getting skinny.

Let me clear that up!  For me, muscle is what it's about.  Muscle is what I love!  I was a skinny kid growing up.  I remember in junior high, seeing a guy walking down the hall.  He was an older guy, stood 5'7" and had the most gigantic arms I had ever seen.  His forearms made Popeye look like a hairdresser.  I said to my friend Chris Volk, "Look at that guys arms!"  He  said, "That's Larry Scott, that's Mr. Olympia!"  We followed him down the hall and asked if it was him.  He smiled and said yes.  For as long as we could keep him, he stood talking to us about muscle. He flexed his biceps on demand, while we squeezed those rock hard giants!  It looked like he had stuffed softballs beneath his skin.  

It was then I discovered I like muscle.

So in case you may think I'm all about getting lean, I'm not.   I do find satisfaction in peeling away the soft layer that conceals abs and muscle definition.  Even though the process isn't always fun.  But what I really want is more muscle.  Rock solid, slabs of thick brisket stacked on my chest.  I want biceps and triceps that look like meat bags stuck to my arms.  I want strong, beefy quads and thick sweeping hams.  I want calves that look like stacks of books and square glutes that have the appearance of loaves of bread.  I want a wide V back that looks like a big bag of thick snakes.

What else can I say?  I like muscle.  The more of it, the better. 

I don't always take my shirt off at the gym.  But when I do, Mike takes a picture. 

Inspiring Thought

Chest destruction complete, I zombie walk to the stepmill for the second time today.  My energy reserves are low, and brain power flickering.  My will is just sufficient to step on this ultimate high intensity interval butt kicker.  Two minutes on level 10, one minute all the way up to 20. Repeat for 25 minutes.  Running up the step mill every third minute feels a little rowdy.  It sounds like a herd of elephants.  (a very small herd of a single 182.8 lb. elephant.)  Still, it seems obnoxious.  But I've got a goal!

As I approach the tail end of the intervals, I get lost in fantasy.  This year Bodhi and Cameron, are 9 and 11.   In 2.5 weeks they will be bodybuilding in the little dudes class.  We've been posing in the garage and practicing quarter turns.  Their routines are coming together and boy are they excited to be bodybuilders.  My thoughts turned to them and how fun it will be to hang out with them backstage. 

Two goals of mine are to win my class, and win an overall.  At the end of the show, all class winners square off to compete for the overall title. The best bodybuilder becomes the Alaska State Champion, Mr. Alaska.   That's where my thoughts ran away.  I visualized winning the whole thing, and my boys coming up on stage with me.  I would love nothing more to have a Mark Mason photo stage photo of me and my boys posing down together!  Before I realized, I had sprinted nearly two minutes.  The Intensity of my pounding heart felt good!  A gust of wind beneath my wings I suppose.  The energy of my goal made me stronger.   It was such a fun thought, I finished strong at max speed, that normally has me dangling from the machine.

I slid off the step and sat relishing the scene, marinating in my own happy, sweaty juices. 

Isn't it fun to dream!  It's a privilege the rest of the animal kingdom doesn't get to enjoy. 

Discovering the Secret

When I created this blog I was hung up on writing something different and new.  Since writing, it's clear to me that there isn't much that is actually new.  Someone has usually heard of, thought of, or discovered it before.  Nevertheless, on occasion, a genuinely new thought or idea finds its way into my brain.  It might seem small, but it was profound to me.  Nobody told it to me, therefore I discovered it!  And I realize that others have discovered this too, but when it came, it was an "aha" moment. 

The secret to getting lean is the same as the secret to getting fat.  The End.  

Special Features

I realize that was a crummy ending. So I am adding this special feature to explain. 
When Kristen got pregnant in 2009 with Aubrie, she was fairly miserable as women building babies can be.  The one thing she looked forward to most was sitting together on the love seat at the end of the day, eating a giant bowl of ice cream and watching The Mentalist.  Kristen loads a bowl of ice cream with 2-3 cups of fat and sugar, depending on the flavor.  I estimate a solid 700 calories.  I love my wife, so I made it a priority, a ritual.  Every night I ate as much ice cream as I could, and licked my bowl clean so she wouldn't feel so fat.  Night after night, we grew closer together as our waistlines expanded and our love handles touched. 

When the Aubrie arrived, Kristen metabolized her extra pounds beautifully.  I was lucky to witness another miracle of childbirth. Her extra fat defied gravity and levitated boob-ward.  It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. 

I, on the other hand, did a little soul searching, a little belly slapping, and decided it was time to find a good home for my "food baby."  My transformation began.  It was only after I got results that I had my grand "aha". 

The way we get lean or fat is the same. It's not as much self discipline or lack of.  It's HABIT!  Just like my sweet dairy and Mentalist habit became second nature, prepping my meals and eating every few hours, became second nature, a formed habit.  Hammering the weights, at the same time every day, was the same.  And about the time it becomes a habit, (a month or so). The body begins to change.   You can't see it at first, with either habit.  Progress is incremental, but ever so slowly, it yields the results you would expect.   Incremental gains of the jiggly or the rock solid kind are hard to spot at first.  None of it comes quickly, but everything accumulates. 

And when our habits are truly formed, it requires very little self discipline.  It's just a ritual, the routine.

The key is to stick with it long enough to form the habit.  Then continue long enough to get the results you want. 

Training Partner

Sometimes I train alone, but if I can,  I prefer training with my brother-in-iron.    I have achieved some positive gains training alone in my garage.  But that's because there was a season whenit didn't work to have a partner.   I remember adopting the philosophy that I would be my own best training partner.  That was an important step to be able to progress on my own.    But I soon discovered I have a talent for squandering time in the gym, being lazy and fiddling with my Iphone.  A good training partner doesn't tolerate those kinds of gym shenanigans.  So I found one.

If you don't have a partner, and getting to the gym is difficult, seek someone out.  I've heard too many people say they just wish they had someone to train with.  I'm thinking geez, there are 7 billion people on the planet.  Call one of them!  It doesn't mean you are weak.  It means you are committed to being strong.  Plus, it's amazing how having someone counting on you strengthens your resolve to show up.  The first battle is just getting there. We can let ourselves down much easier than letting a friend down. 

I've had some great training partners over the years.  If we trained together in the past,  thanks for helping and pushing me.  When I couldn't find the motivation to go to the gym, I would call a friend with the same mindset.  Sometimes it was an old friend out of the blue.  I don't remember a training partnership ever coming to me.  I'm usually the one looking.  The other person needed it just as much.  There's no better way to rekindle old friendships, than over a protein drink and a sweaty towel.  

A committed training partnership can bring out a powerful energy and drive that is difficult to conjure alone.  When you're muscles are screaming and you are ready to rack the weight, your partner reaches out to help you crank out a few more.  Sometimes he doesn't even need to touch the bar, just to hear "C'mon!!! Or "one more", is such a powerful stimulant that makes you stronger.   There's always more in us, but sometimes it takes someone else to bring it out.   When Mike says, "C'mon, don't quit",  I know what that means.  Its an instantaneous reminder to demand everything out of the muscle before it's done.  The mind usually fails first.  Training partners can circumvent that.

And you can't be outdone.  If your partner does 12 reps, it behooves you to do 13! 

I'll never forget when Mike insisted we stack 315 lbs on the bar for my last sets of squats.  (That's three 45 lb plates on each side)  I never had strong legs, that was more than I had ever done.  The thought was crushing.  He said, "I will help you, I want you to get yourself under that weight just so you can know it's not going to kill you."  I did. He spotted me perfectly, and I got two or three reps with his help.  I will never forget the rush I felt doing something that scared me like that.  Probably relief too.  We broke through my mental barrier in seconds.  A few weeks later, I squatted that weight 6x in my garage, alone.  I yelled...loud.  It probably looked pretty awesome!  :)   I would have never attempted it without Mike's help.  As I update this, 405 lbs for reps is the new dragon.    315 has been slain. 

Aside from the motivation we gain, and progress you can make with a training partner,  it just makes it a heck of a lot more fun!  If you need one, get one!  Then be one. 

---

Some things I seek in a training partner, and I expect to live up to:

Is committed to be there.  No excuses.

Has similar goals.

Can focus, and not talk when it's their set.

Isn't a whiner or complainer.

Will push you to progress.

Positive attitude.

Good company.

Spot me bro!

Day Of Rest

Today I enjoyed some "soul food."  No,  I didn't chicken and waffles, or Hushpuppies.   I ate a very "normal" dinner of dall sheep pot roast, red potatoes and peas. 

My soul food was taking a break from working out, and working on nourishing the spirit.   When engaged in pursuit of excellence in a single area, it is easy to neglect other things.  I welcome Sundays to participate in the sabbath day of rest.  The body needs it as much as the spirit, mind, and the family. 

Rest and renewal is an important part of any fitness regimen.  I often hear a phrase, whether referring to business, life, or any ongoing endeavor, "This is not a sprint, this is a marathon."  I have never run a marathon.  The drive to complete a full marathon, hasn't seized me yet.

I know it's not like this for all distance runners, I admire and respect all of you superstuds and studettes that run neurotic distances.  It takes serious guts, determination, and preparation.  But the mental image in my mind is people running forever. They look exhausted, gaunt, and are running on empty for hours.  When I think of the Olympic sprinters vs the marathoners, Sprinters are jacked!  They have striated powerful muscle.  Of course, their bodies are conditioned for two totally different things, but if I'm choosing a body,  I'll take the sprinter body.   Plus, they get to sprint hard, then rest.  I like that.

I love approaching goals and projects as sprints.  High fueled, strong bursts of intense energy toward a goal, then a diversion, rest, renewal then burst again.   Like an intense bodybuilding season, followed by a relaxing, short fishing season, then a more intense training to hunt the mountains in the fall.  Eat fudge and eggnog  in December, then train  and diet for bodybuilding again. 

But back to Sundays, my point before I waxed philosophical about sprinting and running without knowing where I was going, my point was that I enjoy Sundays for the physical rest, and the renewal and nourishment of the spirit. 

Sunday is over now.   I've rested long enough.  Bring on Monday!

"Fixing" Your Metabolism

Thank you for all the positive feedback on the first week of the  bodyblog.  I am enjoying the process far more than I anticipated.  It's fun to interact with my pals.

In two messages today, friends mentioned "fixing" their metabolism.  Which means their metabolism must be broken.  That's too bad, because I think that means they are dead.  But I saw them on Facebook later, alive and well. which must mean their metabolism isn't broken!   So that's good news.  It probably just needs a tune up!

I hear a lot of people talking about "broken", "wrecked", and "destroyed" metabolisms that need to be "fixed", or "repaired."  Maybe it is actually the case, but that's pretty gloomy if you ask me. 

Hey, I'm no rocket gynecologist or anything.  I don't have any data to back it up but that's the nice thing about "Bro-Science", It doesn't require it.  Let's just assume that your metabolism isn't broken.  It might just be running slow, or inefficient.  If exercise and proper nutrition has been neglected, the metabolism might run a little slow.  If you have over trained your system without proper nutrition, compromised your lean tissue, or been on a carb deficient diet, your body may be inclined to store more fat. 

I think God did a fine job creating these machines that house our spirits.   Hope is not lost, we can't wreck them that easily.  They are highly adaptable.  They miraculously repair themselves when we beat them up.  They can also be trained and tuned to be fat burning machines, or fat storing machines. 

When I was on the lazy dude's eggnog/fudge diet, my body began storing fat for the long Alaska winter.   As quickly as I cut out sugar, grease, and Mt. Dew, and put a couple new habits in place, my body responded and the fat dripped off.

Three simple changes got mine tuned up.

1. Cut out sugar, white bread and anything fried.  Eat protein every meal, veggies and slow carbs, (brown rice, oatmeal, whole wheat bread and beans.)  I ate roughly the same amount of calories every meal.  (400 cals or less for me.)  Some women might require only half that.  (I know that's not right, because when I speak for women, it's usually wrong.  So if a woman will please leave a comment and correct me, that would be awesome! )  I am completely unqualified there.   I'm also curious to know more. 

2. Eat every 2-3 hours.  Keeping carbs lower in the evening.

3. Do something physical 5x/week.  Weight training not only shapes the body, but muscle will use up more calories.  Do cardio, but don't get crazy with too much.   1/2 hr is good.  Get a good sweat and get back to enjoying life.

I noticed a HUGE difference from these three things.  My metabolism started to crank.  But by far the most important component was the right fuel in the machine. 

It might seem crazy to think your body will begin to burn more by eating six meals/day.  Train your body to know it will be getting another sip of nourishment soon and it won't need to store.

If you're doing these things, then dig deeper, ask and read, and continue to tweak your training and diet.  There are a lot of ways to get there.  

Before I published this, I googled "Metabolic Damage" and the first article I found was excellent and loaded with real scientific explanations.    It's a great topic, I'm going to continue to research.

http://www.metaboliceffect.com/metabolic-damage-symptoms/

Average Joes

One of these guys doesn't look like the other...

2013 NPC Alaska State Championships

It's not me, although my sheen deserves an honorable mention.  As you can see, I "O.P.'d".  (Over Pam).  It's an easy mistake.  The combination of deck stain and cooking spray is a delicate balance.  I've since fine tuned my recipe.

But I'm referring to the guy on  left of me.  His name escapes me, like most names do,  I'll call him Joe.  Backstage he kept to himself.  I didn't notice any competitors talking to him.  I asked him if he had competed before, he hadn't.  He was soft spoken, humble and didn't  appear overly confident.  A real good guy.  I asked how he came to be here.  He said he was impressed by Arnold in high school, and it had been a goal of his since then.  He was turning 50 and decided it to go for it.  30 years had passed, and that ambition was still alive.  So he went for it.  I know that feeling.  We all have those.

Our dialogue was short, but I was genuinely impressed with Joe.  It was clear that he had done this without anybody to walk him through the process.  He had a good physique and could have benefited from a tan, and a little oil, not the whole can.  He did his best on the poses. He earned my respect.  Here is a guy who had the onions to commit to doing something that probably scared the hell out of him, because he didn't want to go on wishing he had.  He didn't believe it was too late.  And he did it alone.  I didn't do that.  I had a ton of help and encouragement!   I asked him if he wanted to compete again.  He said "I want to see how I do in this one."

That is one reason why I am inspired by this sport/lifestyle.  It gives Average Joes like us an opportunity to step up to the challenge to become the best physical versions of ourselves.  Old or young, fat or skinny, the opportunity is there for anyone who wants to go for it.  I did my first show when I was 37.  One guy who placed over me was in his 50's.  There are men and women who take the stage in their 60's and 70's.  It has taught me that growing older, doesn't have to mean growing weaker. 

As a side note, the kid who took first in my weight class last year was 18 or 19 I believe.  Backstage he complimented me by saying, "Dang dude, how old are you?  I don't know how you old guys do it!  You are like my Dad, he's in awesome shape too!"  My first thought, I won't say.  My second thought was, "Old guy?"  Then I realized he was half my age.  I guess it wasn't too far off.  Thanks sport!  I accept the compliment. 

As for Joe, he didn't place too high that night.  I hope he felt the victory over self like I did my first show.  I hope to see him at an upcoming show.