wisdom. testosterone. and a little bit of bs

midlife

Anomaly


Anomaly ~ something that deviates from what is standard, normal, or expected. oddity, peculiarity, abnormality, irregularity, inconsistency, incongruity,aberration, quirk, rarity

That’s how I feel.  Like an anomaly. I look around my peers, my genre, my city and sometimes I feel like an outcast. my mental state, my physical well being isn’t the norm. So I’m the crazy one? I’m about to head to the gym RIGHT now at 5:30 am because I want to. I love picking up heavy ass weight up and setting it back down repeatedly. I also love when I can read a trilogy in a week’s time.

Am I wrong for wanting to gain more insight AND be strong as hell? Or should I just smoke and drink and watch my body and mind deteriorate? People think I’m in great shape and I laugh on the inside KNOWING i could do better. HAVE. DONE. BETTER. Hell, this machine is far from being tuned properly, but it’s happy hour at Buffalo Wild Wings or the Alehouse or Sunday Funday at the Pier, Conch house, and beaches. To add fuel to the fire, I “feeeeeeel” my age. And let me be the 1st to tell you if you didn’t know. IT’S HARD TO BE ON A CONSISTENT FITNESS REGIMEN AT 47. People this age have things to do.

It’s purely mentally at this point. It hurts longer, I don’t recover faster, and I have to eat leaner in order to actually see the hard work I put in or it’s all for fucking nothing. This is the point where most of my friends tap out and use that old cliche of growing old gracefully. Whatever. My cousin wants us to do bodybuilding competition. Check it off our bucket list he says. You can find Fred Davis here at his FaceBook page tell him I said hi and “I need three years to be ready!” the agreement was to compete at 50 not 47, roflmao.

All jokes aside, I love it. I genuinely love the physical and mental stimulation of stress relieving. endorphin releasing workouts. I guess my normal isn’t normal. And I don’t give two flying fucks about….and that’s perfectly okay with me. It’s just odd that people comment on how fit  you are for your age. Like you’re wearing fake breasts or a hairpiece.

“hey bro, you play ball”?

“Sorry man, you’re a little too big for special ops/swat unit, we’re hi-speed and muscles burn oxygen”. (my personal favorite)

“sup bruh, how long were you locked up for? you’re big as shit”.

You know what? I’m through playing with y’all. Enlighten me, entertain me…..or kick rocks. Negativity, defeatist, self deprecating attitudes, curmudgeon personalities are all contagious. stay the hell away from me with all that nonsense. 

I’m out.

 marbles


The Pessimist, the Cynic, and the Ne’er Do Well


Please….shut up already, you leech, you vampire, you succubus. I can feel you draining all of my optimistic soul with your chronic complaining and pessimism. Yes life is a struggle, I get it. Just stop talking about how miserable your life is and DO something about it.

I have my own issues to contend with. I’m making positive strides forward, then you come along with your black cloud of mope and despair overcasting my day. Fortunately, I have one of those pro golf sized “mental umbrellas” to keep me dry from your gale force tirades of drama. Spare me your relationship episodes, you’re not David Duchovny on Californication. I could care less about how your wife emasculates you….wait, what did you call it, “she’s assertive and likes wearing the pants” so instead of watching the playoffs Sunday afternoon, you’re down at the flea market shopping for discounted trinkets and bootleg romantic comedy dvd’s.

The next person to attempt to trample one of my good spirited days with their “cup is almost empty” demeanor, deserves a Rick James to Charlie Murphy open handed slap. Seriously. I’m on a mission. Because your train derailed, you want to plant bombs on my tracks? If life is sooooo bad, give up. Stop trying. Kill yourself. More food for us. Still here? Pussy…or is it that your life isn’t that bad afterall huh?

The next step isn’t so easy. Depressing people travel in packs, infecting others like a virus adding to the collective. You have got to break away from the other crabs if you want to change your mindset. And don’t think they won’t notice. “why’d you stop calling? oh, you too good to hang with us now? Hey I just wrecked my car for the 3rd time can I get a ride? Hey girl, so and so was talking about you. I just wanted to let you know. What’s up man, I just quit my bullshit job. Naw, I ain’t got nothing lined up just yet tho…mind if I hang out for a few days?”

Good luck escaping. If you did manage to escape, your circle is extremely smaller now isn’t it? Google+ won’t be happy (lol if you don’t get that it’s ok, the joke wasn’t for you).

I had an intellectual discussion with a good friend of mine last night until 3am. It’s amazing what conversations stem from Grand Marnier and blue mist hookahs….I digress, where was I? One topic involved goals, aspirations, and the means to reach them. Have you met yours? what prevented you? what’s stopping you now? At what point do you concede? the conclusion obviously, is that the infrastructure of any goal you set forth is planning. Then it hit me like a ton a bricks. 35-40% of the people I knew, didn’t plan for shit. Most of them are already out of my life, the few remaining handful will probably become case studies for this blog in the near future.

It’s 2012 people. time to become extremely independent and get off the teat. Bad things will happen soon. PLAN AHEAD.(damn have I been infected by the cynics?) Time to develop some survivalist skills just in case of some post apocalyptic scenario. I recommend the three H’s. Hunting, Horticulture and Whoring…yes yes I know, I know. It was just fun to say.

Through playing with y’all.


Anatomy 101


Da Vinci art

I had a bit of an epiphany in the gym this morning. It dawned on me that most people go their entire lives without realizing what their very own bodies are physically capable of. It’s funny to me. Mainly because in my youth, I was literally thin as a walking stick. Had it not been for that fateful day in Chicago at the Naval base, where I (a basketball fanatic) was dunked on by a semi pro player.

That pivotal moment changed me. Angered and blinded by the fact that someone broke through my defense, I subbed out and left the court…right into the weight room. while the 1st two years were a clueless waste of time, the next 13 years became a campaign to become bigger and stronger. Years of muscle sprains, tendinitis, deep tissue massages, and gallons of protein later, here I am remaining steadfast on my personal crusade to be the fittest I can be.

But not most people….the average person doesn’t think about it until a really fit person walks up next to them and then they realize “oh shit, that person is my age”. Then there’s the moment of self-pity. The envy lasts a bit longer but that too is quickly forgotten as soon as the “hot and fresh doughnuts” sign lights up at Krispy Kreme.

The human body is literally a Transformer. (Hasbro should pay me for plugging them)

It’s astounding the amount of resiliency and strength it has. It can be shaped and molded, made stronger, faster. It can endure miles and miles of running or tons and tons of weight lifting. Each and every person has their very own machine to tweak and customize as they see fit, but 89% of you don’t….okay I made that number up, but so what it’s probably higher. It’s the equivalent of taking a Ferrari and letting it sit for years exposed to the elements.

I’m curious.

What’s it like?

Trying this diet plan and that diet pill….starving yourself to squeeze into a dress you know damn well you shouldn’t have purchased. Doing push ups before you head out to the beach to give the illusion that you work out on a regular basis. I’ll bet you 20 bucks you’ve got a guy at work that arches his back when he walks as if to imply his chest is huge.

Delusions of fitness never gets old. Promising yourself to exercise but that day never comes, or wearing sleeves so tight your hands turn blue. So what does it take to get motivated and embrace a fit healthy lifestyle?

1. you must WANT it. badly…a 6 month diet plan is going to crash like Denzel Washington in “Flight”.

2. Self Evaluate. look at yourself realistically, and honestly. Then set a goal. and just like building a house you’re gonna need blueprints to make that goal happen. You will need a professional at this point. Find a certified licensed trainer. You will only need him/her for about 4-6 months tops. listen and do everything they tell you, then rinse and repeat on your own.

3. Educate yourself in health and exercise. I’m mean really learn. Chances are your doctor doesn’t know a damn thing about fitness. Remember he’s getting paid to sell you his skill set and medicine.

4. Take a nutrition class. Trust me, when you learn that you truly are what you eat, you’ll stop huffing down pancakes, doughnuts and cookies.

5. Kinesiology, the study of human movement. When you know how your body works once and for all, you will laugh at those infomercials trying to sell you a “gutbuster 3000″ and the people that buy them.

Extend your life/livelihood. Take care of your body as you would your car, house, your lawn….or whatever you deem of value and importance to you. God willing, working out and pushing my body to it’s limits will continue be a staple in my life, as much as breakfast and sex. And I’m certainly not trying to give up either of the two anytime soon.

Train hard. Indulge later.


Resolute Ideas


2010 is over. Thank God. It’s been a rollercoaster ride from hell, from natural disasters to the ongoing ever present recession, things have not been nice (putting it mildly). Nevertheless tonight, err….tomorrow begins a new year, new beginnings, new chances, new opportunities and for a lot a people, new resolutions.

I can tell my age is catching up to me. Because this year, my resolution is so far removed from the norm, it signifies the next step in my learning process. my own personal maturation in life. Or to repeat what my wife says “my Buddhist Monk” like ways.

As much as our President has touted change, I fear there will be none. At least not in our lifetime or not in the manner in which we expect. And that got me to thinking….why? Really, why can’t we change? As a whole, once we reach adulthood most people are set in their ways like super glued concrete shoes, only changing when traumatic events unfold.

Our only chance is our children.

Children are full of creativity and ideas that are unrestricted by boundaries and prejudices. Children can provide the change we need to TRULY make this world a better place. It starts at home, in your neighborhoods, in your cities. Stop dashing your child’s dreams. Give them positive reinforcement all of the time. Support their goals. Teach them. They are apt to learn life quicker from you than from a stranger in the form of public schooling.

My New Year’s resolution?  To inspire all youth. Whenever and wherever I can.

Think for a second if we all did that, what would begin to transpire. So instead of trying to lose 10lbs off your fat ass in a gym program that you won’t stick with, why not volunteer at a local Boy’s and Girl’s club? Or start a tutoring program? There’s also Big Brothers/Sisters programs.

I can’t be the only person who can see that as a whole, adults have failed miserably. It’s time to hit the reset button and give our children a chance to right our wrongs.

What’s YOUR New Year’s Resolution?


Bittersweet November


Well now….I think I’m most certainly convinced without a shadow of doubt that our country is nowhere near being out of the “recession” and things are steadily declining.

Why? Because two weeks ago I lost my job due to downsizing. I was numb at first. Kind of in a haze for a week or two. Then oddly enough, I started feeling better.  As if a weight was lifted? I don’t know, I can’t explain it. I am still sorting through it, but outside of the financial hit, I feel great.

I think I must be imagining things, because this morning when I looked in the mirror some gray hairs had receded and that monkey on my back, crashing those tambourines in my ear wasn’t there.

I now enjoy my pumpkin spiced coffee on the porch without gulping it down, while watching my rottie do his business near (in) my neighbor’s yard (what? her cats shouldn’t be on my Z ,but it happens). I think it’s safe to say, I will end out this year ABSOLUTELY stress free.

2011 will be another thing altogether….My resumé is shining, but I don’t even know if I want to remain in the same field. Hell, I don’t know if I want to remain in the same country while this mess is going on. However, as always I’ll persevere and look good while doing it.

If I was of the superstitious lot, I’d say November is a bad month for me considering what happened last November, but I’m not. This is most definitely a blessing in disguise. My path has been lain out in front of me. I just need to uncover it.

Now where’s that damn leaf blower?


R.E.S.P.E.C.T


I feel you Aretha.  Without respect, a man isn’t one. Lack of it will always lead to a disastrous conclusion. Me? I’d take respect over fame and money anything day of the week.

So. What exactly is the correct path to follow when there’s a personal affront to your manhood? Wisdom dictates removing yourself from said situation. Easy if the assailant is a complete stranger, not so easy if you’ve known the individual for awhile and their viewpoint of you has changed for whatever reason. A little tougher if it’s a long time friend or family member.

Yeah, you can communicate and talk about it, but since no one’s budging, you’re back to square one. This is why brothers don’t speak to one another for 15 years a pop, or cousins only visit every other holiday. It also affects marital bliss.

So what do you do, when you are bred with a ceiling-less pride and taught to be respectful and expect it always? When the nuclear arms talk fail utterly, and war is imminent…what do you do?

It comes down to our  primal responses: Fight or Flight. I’m not speaking a “physical” fight (not this time). But a fight aimed at getting the respect you deserve. Or do you take a hit to your manhood, the very core structure of who you are, and concede?

NEVER.

……and I ain’t about to write a damn song asking for it either.


Got Snacks?


Here we go. “Murica’s” new drug of choice…..food. The percentage of overweight/obese Americans is staggering. A nation of people hooked on food, like heroin junkies.

Does anyone eat for sustenance anymore? I mean c’mon, isn’t food meant to be eaten to survive? I guess if it ain’t smothered, covered, chopped, scattered, topped and peppered it ain’t right. Ever see a toddler refuse oatmeal because there isn’t enough sugar and butter in it? We are setting our children up for failure. Would you stick a crack pipe in a baby’s mouth? Meth addict, sugar addict….both make your teeth fall out. I’m just saying.

And before you go “no Dennis it’s not the same”, STFU and listen…stop setting your kids up for diabetes and other food borne ailments. Think about this: Some of you might be lactose intolerant. That means that your ADULT body has decided its had enough of a substance meant to nourish babies. Do you think there are any lactose intolerant people in Somalia or any Russians with peanut allergens?

Can someone explain to me why the Food and Drug Administration hasn’t stepped in to curb this food nonsense. Oh that’s right…money. Money and Monsanto. Google GMO foods and Monsanto. (just click the link)  That guy is Satan hellbent on killing you and your kids and “UOENO” that it’s happening right under your nose.

Marketing and media food gurus entice you with their captivating commercials, playing on your greediness and need for all things bigger. “yeah that burger I made you last time, it’s nothing… nothing…nothing…..compared to this burger. This burger right here, we call it “the whole cow”. You won’t have to eat for weeks.

Bigger, richer, fluffier, greasier, more decadent, more seasoned….mmmm taste all this flavor. And you have the nerve to wonder why you need liposuction. You can’t have it both ways. You can’t be a glut AND be physically fit.

Yet I’m the freak because in my late 40′s, I workout like it’s my religion and eat healthy. And then there’s always the plethora of questions: How do you workout? What do you eat? What supplements do you take? Are you on steroids? Most people regard my answers as if I suggested they cut off a big toe. The fact is, every single day I wake up, I think to myself I can do better. I must do better. I will do better. I’m sorry that I have the willpower to avoid Dairy Queen’s XXL Blizzard shakes and those insidious Krispy Kreme doughnuts.

My competitive streak fuels me when my energy runs low and my alpha mindset kicks in. Shout out to Police Lieutenant Larry Kitchens, who try as he might, simply cannot keep up. Larry, if you’re reading this then you know I WON.  Admit defeat gracefully, and I promise to catch you up to speed. Or accept my official challenge: downstairs. police gym. date and time of your choosing. and we’ll invite the entire building.

Sorry, I’ve gotten off track.

I think I may have a solution. Put an end to serviced foods and grocery stores and bring back butchers and farmers markets. convenience kills. Show of hands, who grew up hunting and fishing? Did you teach your kids? Even I am remiss in that one. It’s time to get back to the basics in life.

Simplify your nutrition. Man….venison steaks sound good right about now.


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