Thursday, April 28, 2005

Early Bird Didn't Get the Worm

I am suddenly awakened by a lick at 4:05am. I squint my eyes and look at the clock. I look at my dog Pierre. He is sitting up just looking at me. It is as if he is giving me a signal that it would really be good if I got up and went to my 5:15am Spinning Class. Pierre doesn't give me the usual two front paws on my chin burying down on me with the second, third, fourth, etc. licks. He is quietly waiting for my decision. It is eery. He has the calmness of a Samurai Warrior before the final death blow. I think, "Hmm... it must be a sign that it would be a good idea to go." So, I get up... and make it the the gym at 5am. Oh my God... all 12 bikes are taken up! They tell me that the very last bike was taken at 4:50am. MY GOD!!!! I thought I was an early bird, but these people are ridiculous!

So I am at the gym... no room for spinning class. Damn Early Birders, damn DOG!!!!! GRRRR!!!!! Well, fuck, what can I do? So, I decide to do a treadmill (I hate them) for 30 minutes while I read a Sports Illustrated and a Details magazine. Those 30 minutes go fast when I read. I then look at the gym clock. It is 5:30am. It is too early to go to work. Hmmm.... well I suppose I can workout my legs this morning. I do my usual calf extension and leg extensions. Then comes the big test. The Squat Machine. I don't feel like doing it. It is now closer to 6am. I have every motivation to just leave the gym, pick up my usual large coffee and grits at McDonalds, and clock in work at 6am. But I fight this temptation. I start loading on the weights on the Squat Machine. I do 15 reps of 315#'s. My knees feel pressure, so I turn them slightly outward... that did the trick. I put on another 20 #'s (at 335#'s now). I do two more set of 15 reps squatting. It was no big deal. I pat myself on the back for being a good boy and not running from this morning's adversity.

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

Time to Put Together a New Routine

As I was in the gym this morning, I became acutely aware that I have been doing the same routine with very little variation besides increasing the weights. I looked at the mirrored walls this morning. My shoulders are about as huge as I want to get them. Years ago, a personal trainer suggested that I needed to build up my shoulders. Job done. My legs are muscular enough from all the spinning and leg exercises. I like my meaty legs. Job done.

One area I can always improve is getting a bigger butt. From having "NO ASS" to a nice ass has been a great developement in my 12 years of working out. There is hope for No Ass people! I am living proof! Besides do spinning class twice a week, I do 160#'s leg extensions (hamstrings and quads) and 260#'s calf raises. Right now, I can squat 335#'s 15 reps, 3 sets. It puts a lot of pressure on my feet and some on my knees. BUT... I can see the results. I am going to keep that same weight for a while.... and I'll try to do squats twice a week. I have to use a machine to do squats. I could never do that much lifting free weights. It is too much to risk a slight movement in my back and get myself hurt.

Another area that I can do more on is my chest. I want them to come out more. I always do an incline press and a pec dec machine twice a week. I have plenty meat on the sides and under the pecs... but I want to build my upper chest and make my pecs poke out more. Hmmm... does this mean I need to do a decline press? Or just a regular bench press? I don't know. I never bench press a bar because I don't have a workout partner to spot me. I feel more secure with a machine. (I know it sucks) So... I'll have to figure out something where I can make my pecs poke out more and get some more meat in the upper regions.

The last area where I have really slacked on is my abs. I used to have a nice rack of abs when I went to ab class twice a week. I changed gyms, and they don't have an ab class after work hours. Consequently, my once fabulous abs have gone bye bye. Hmmm.... I'll have to make myself do them by myself. I know about 10 great ab routines... I just have to kick my ass and make myself do it.

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

Feels Good...

Working out really makes me feel a lot better. I start making excuses at about 10 mins to 5:00pm. I don't want to go to the gym today! I am tired (Excuse #1). I had a bad day at work (Excuse #2). I am hungry (Excuse #3). I have a slight headache (Excuse #4). I really shouldn't overdo it... I am still sore... I may pull a muscle (Excuse #5). I can really do housework if I go home right now instead of the gym (Excuse #6). My poor darlin Dachshunds really miss them... I didn't spend enough time with them yesterday (Excuse #7). I'll wake up REAL EARLY and go tomorrow before work! (Excuse #8) Those are my top 8 excuses I try to use on myself just about everyday. Most of the time, I READ myself for trying that shit and I end up dragging my sorry ass to the gym anyway. Every single time, I feel SO MUCH better afterwards.

The feeling when I walk out the gym is incredible. I feel invincible. My veins are pulsating. "Cross the line, and your ass in mine" becomes my MOTTO. What an awesome feeling!!! I feel this euphoria sweep over me... as if I just had a relaxing meditation. I really feel the key to long life, good health and a sense of wellbeing is working out regularly. I rarely get sick. I rarely feel stress. And I feel fairly confident anyone standing in my way stands no chance. What a great feeling! The best part is that it does not come from a drug. It comes from within myself: my own determination, willpower and strength.

Can you love your dogs too much?

I love my Boudreaux and Pierre as much as if they were my kids. When I am gone... and leave them home alone... I feel like a guilty mother. I worry if they miss me. I worry if they are okay. My partner tells me that Dogs have no concept of time... and that they will be just as happy to see me in one day as in 7 days. Could this be true?

I have a close relationship with my dogs. They are probably the best thing to ever have happened to me. I have two beings that love me unconditionally... no matter what. I have a responsibility for the welfare of two very special beings. I like that responsibility. I like being "Daddy".


Boudreaux and my nephew Connor


Pierre with my nephew Connor

Monday, April 25, 2005

Circle of Life

This weekend started out so sad for me and my partner. We got up Saturday morning and walked the dogs around my country neighborhood. What is a country neighborhood? It is lots of land and trees... not a subdivision with wall-to-wall houses. There are plenty horses, some cows, lakes and swamps near where I live.

We walk to one of the pastures that had about 10 mares, a stud horse, and 4 beautiful colts (we like to call them baby horses). One of the baby horses looks like it has two black eyes because he has a dark circle "drawn" around each eye. He is not the prettiest baby horse, but he is the friendliest. He walks up to Michael and I everytime. We usually get a few minutes to pet him before his mother or the stud nudges him away. We tied Boudreaux and Pierre up at the gate and met the horses at the feed trough. My little darlins are little devils around horses... so we have to keep them back. Besides, Boudreaux got knocked unconscience earlier this year from a kick to the head by a horse he was harrassing. I didn't want anymore of those incidents!

After leaving that pasture, we walk Boudreaux and Pierre to a bigger pasture to see the other four baby horses. The horses are way back in the pasture, so we tie the Dachshunds to the gate in that pasture... and make a long walk to see the horses. We start noticing this huge hawk with very wide wings circling above us. All the horses in the pasture notice us and start walking fast towards us. I make a joke that it is high noon on the Ponderosa and someone is going to die. (I had no clue how much that was already true)

We see the four beautiful baby horses and then suddenly a shiny object catches my eye. I notice the "sick" horse is standing over something very shiny. I ask Michael if perhaps her colt was born. We run over there and find afterbirth and a little baby horse completely wrapped up in a placenta. I call my father and report this to him. He tells me to remove the afterbirth and see if the mother licks her baby to life. I start to remove the slick material. It is very thick... looks just like the white material around the yolk in a fried egg. I break it apart and there is fluid spilling out everywhere.

Wrapped neatly inside was the most beautiful baby horse. The coat is a gorgeous light brown. Michael stands there silently as I remove everything from the beautiful colt. Sadly, there was no breathing... no heartbeat... just a cold beautiful little colt resting at peace. The mother was hovering over it like she didn't know what to do. It was a sad site looking at the mother who watched me unwrap her baby from its shell.

I had to say a prayer for the mother. This poor mare had always seemed to be a loner in the pasture. The other horses could be 100 acres away... and she was by herself eating alone. Her fur was unkept and scraggy looking. She looked very sickly too. You could see veins in her face... and all over her poor body. I couldn't help but feel so sorry for her loss. But then I thought... perhaps this was a blessing. Perhaps she'll rebound quicker if she didn't have a young colt to take care of. Perhaps she was incapable of caring for a colt. Natures way of knowing I suppose. When I get sad about the loss, I think of all the other colts that are born every year. This year, there has already been 10 beautiful colts that have been born very healthy.

Friday, April 22, 2005

Lost the Men's Doubles Match!

Michael and I vs. Jeff (brother-in-law) and my brother Bart in our first Men's Doubles Match. We were cruising through the first set 5-2. Jeff was hitting mostly LONG homeruns and Bart was playing nervous. So far so good. We relaxed a bit and let them snatch two victories against us, before pulling away in the first set 6-4.

One more set to go! Whoops. Down 4-0. I am looking at Michael with eyes of fury. HUSTLE FOR THE DAMN BALL!!!! He is shouting back at me that I am the reason we are losing. Grrrr!!!! Down 5-0. MOTHERFUCK!!!! I am pissed. Fire is shooting through me. NO MAS! I am holding the line here! We win our first game on the second set. HOORAY! It is now 5-1. The last game was a hard fought contest, but we eventually succumb to the inevitable... and lose the second set in a humiliating fashion... 6-1.

Third Set. We are ready. We are intense. WE HAVE TO DO BETTER. Right off the bat, we are down 0-2. Michael is NOT hustling. Bart is blooping these wuss shots right across the net, and we can't get to them in time because we are so scared of Jeff's now suddenly accurate long balls. I am pissed. I rally the troops. (I promise Michael that he is NOT getting a blowjob tonight if we lose this third set!) That promise worked (temporarily). We rally for three straight victories. We are leading the third set 3-2! JUST THREE MORE GAMES! WE CAN DO IT! They win the sixth game in the set after an intense battle of Deuce... it is now 3-3. Fuck!!!! The fourth game is equally challenging. We lose that one! Dammit! We are now down 4-3! Jeff is taking almost every high ball and spiking the fuck out of the ball... bouncing it 15 feet above our pitiful short bodies. It is now 5-3! (the end is near) We battled the final game to deuce... but we could not go any further. Bart and Jeff win the final set 6-3. We hung our heads down in shame. Michael sarcastically mumbles... "So this is what it feels like to lose". I have my big pouty lip out. I can only say, "yes... this is the feeling".

We had a somber dinner tonight reflecting on our play. We have had very little experience playing together on a team. Some of our mistakes were hitting the ball when the other person should have hit it, being so far away from the net when Bart would bloop it across, and setting Jeff up for those monsterous SPIKES. Hmmm.... remember how we lost... and prepare for next time. I called my brother up tonight, and told him that we wanted a rematch for tomorrow. He was all game and Jeff may agree too!

If we play, I'll post those results tomorrow afternoon. Wish us luck!

The Great Tennis Grudge Match


The Plot: Grudge Match against Evil Twin Brother and Brother-in-Law

Side Story: Must put aside tennis animosity towards my arch-nemesis on the tennis courts (my partner Michael) and play on the same team. That means not getting mad and binging the tennis ball at him at 70 mph hoping to graze his head.

What's at Stake: Both my brother-in-law and my brother are the braggards in the family. Whoever wins the match will be lauded by the whole family. Whoever loses, will be the goat for the weekend. I will not give them a chance to rub this in my face all weekend. Brother-in-law and brother are GOING DOWN!!!!


Under Tennis Coach Tim's Instruction

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Tired as Fuck Whiney Boy

I am soooo tired. After this last weekend's fiasco with my now ex Atlanta friend, I have been having trouble sleeping at night. I am still very stunned and disappointed by what transpired. Or perhaps I should say by what DIDN'T transpire (meeting the S.O.B.). But life goes on. I have to move on. I probably slept only 5 hours each of the last two nights. I tossed and turned all night. This is very rare for me. Usually, as soon as I hit the pillow... I fall asleep like a rock.

Even though I am tired as fuck, I am forcing myself to go to the gym. I am not a slacker. It is Tuesday afternoon, and I have not worked out since Friday morning. I cannot miss today! It would be so easy to just go home and lounge around with my two Dachshunds on my couch. But I can't. I would kick myself tomorrow if I did that. I haven't come this far from skipping out on my workouts because I felt "tired". My tired ass is going to go to that gym and put in 110% like I always do. NO EXCUSES WHINEY BOY!!!! (that's me speaking to myself) Doesn't that certify me as crazy? When someone talks to themselves? Or is it when you answer yourself? IS THAT THE POINT THAT YOU REALLY NEED A STRAIGHT JACKET?

Sunday, April 17, 2005

What is a friend?

How many of you have befriended interesting individuals you met on the internet? I have met some wonderful guys from various internet sites. I have a friend in Houston named Tim. He's a tennis coach, who's a great guy. I have met Bill and Dennis in Atlanta... a wonderful couple that love SEC football. Kevin and Rob in Atlanta are a cool couple that loves to have fun and takes us around town. Then there is Aaron in Atlanta that is always available to chat whenever I need to talk to someone. Pete in San Antonio is a sweetheart that came down and met us for dinner and out for drinks. All of these guys have been wonderful friends who I have come to count on as real people... with real hearts.... men who stand behind their word.

This weekend, a friend of mine who I have been chatting with for over five years came to the same city I was in. We have shared many long conversations (phone and email) about what was going on in our personal and professional lives. We would trade pictures from our various vacations. I really thought we developed a genuine friendship. We each served as great sounding boards for each other.

Well, this last weekend was the third time we were in the same city, were supposed to meet, and it just didn't happen. The first time in Atlanta, he was supposed to meet my partner and I at Woofs. He called and said he was too drunk to drive there to meet us. Hmmm.... the weekend came and went... and he must have never got sober... cause he never tried to meet us the rest of the weekend. The second time, he came to New Orleans for a week. I was going to drive to New Orleans from Baton Rouge to meet him during the week. He told me that we could just wait until the weekend. I had that sinking feeling. Low and behold, I come in on Friday and he has a trick and doesn't answer his cell phone at all. We try for Saturday, and he suddenly has a family emergency and has to rush back home.

This weekend was the third try. I must be a glutton for punishment. I try to forgive people like I was taught as a Catholic boy. I try to see the good in people. I try to give people second and third chances even when it gets to the point that I start looking downright pathetic. (AND TRUST ME... MY BOYFRIEND REMINDS ME OF MY PATHETICNESS EVERYTIME I FORGIVE AND FORGIVE)

I warned this "friend" that I had fully expected to finally meet him as this was our third try. He swore we were going to meet once and for all. We emailed and left voice messages several times for weeks leading up to this weekend. On Friday, he couldn't make a committment... didn't know where he or his fuck buddy were going to be ... and couldn't give me a time they were going to be out in the bars. He did hint that his fuckbuddy had a problem with him meeting a friend from the internet but that he would work it out. SOOOO STRANGE, my friend always portrayed himself as strong, confident and independent. You mean he suddenly lost his balls and would discard a 5 year friendship so effortlessly over a fuck buddy? Hmpf!

We purposively stayed out late and waited to meet my friend and the man he pokes. My boyfriend was tired from working hard all week... and I pleaded with him to stay out a little longer. Still no friend...still no call. We give up and head home. I leave my cell by the bed. I wake up at 9am on Saturday... and SURPRISE no call! It is 3:30pm, and I finally get a voice message from my "friend" that he was going to rest with his fuckbuddy because they had been walking around the French Quarter drinking all day and weren't used to it. Hello! Why couldn't we all finally meet as planned and drink with them? Hmmm.... that sinking feeling. I call him and tell him when we are going to be at the Pub. I don't hear from him until much later. He simply leaves me a message to tell me that he was sorry but we'll have to do lunch the next day. The next day comes and I still do not hear from him past the lunch hour. I call him and let him know exactly where we will be for the whole day. No friend. That sinking feeling. I finally get a message from him that late afternoon with some bullshit story about they really tried to look for us the previous night. He never suggests that we should meet up on the last day. His message is that he tried to look for us... but couldn't find us. Awwww.... poor little friend... he tried... but didn't ... oh well... he did all he could do... Where's my hankerchief?

What bullshit! Normal SANE friends let you know where they are staying. Normal SANE friends pick a time and agree where to meet. Normal SANE friends do not hem and haw the whole weekend and end up never meeting up.

As some of my Ex friends can attest, I can be a mean motherfucker when I feel wronged. I fired off a nasty email to this "friend". I am washing my hands clean of him like I have done to so many that have come before him. Nowadays, I am keeping my good friends close to my heart and embracing them with all my love. To those who show their true colors, make it obvious they are phonies and care about no one but themselves... I am writing them off.