Friday 22 July 2011
Wednesday 20 July 2011
Legless Again
I find floor-jumps difficult at the best of times; putting 90 of them after 75 squats and 48 pistol squats just seems cruel. I didn't feel like crying at the end, but I did find the last few reps murderously hard in each set.
In better news, I finally got a clean set of V-sits in and even a pretty good second set. After that, I can get my shoulder blades off the floor, but it would be generous to call the resulting shape a V. Maybe a tipped-over sun-lounge would be a better description.
Over the past few weeks, my bowel motility has reverted to pre-PCP conditions. I certainly drink less water now as I'm just not all that thirsty - except when exercising of course. The gallons of anally-trapped air that resulted in scarcely forewarned eruptions (all sound and fury, signifying nothing) that were a problem a few weeks ago seem, thankfully, to have dissipated.
I still get the periodic Bristol "Type 1" turd (see chart below) but am mostly back to Type 2 and 3 - where I like to keep things. The rapidity of my evacuations has declined somewhat (relative to pre-PCP) but I can still usually drop trou, and get the kids into the pool in just a few seconds.
The noisy, heaving and clenching offensive I had to engage in while adjusting to all these vegetables is a thing of the past and I'm back to feeling safe I can attend a 2-hour meeting without worrying that I will have to take an emergency break at some point (unless of course I'm about to miss my protein window and need to eat an egg-white).
And so the obsession with everything that goes in one end of the alimentary canal and sweeps out the other continues. I think I might be becoming a little German. Time to install a European style trophy-toilet?
In better news, I finally got a clean set of V-sits in and even a pretty good second set. After that, I can get my shoulder blades off the floor, but it would be generous to call the resulting shape a V. Maybe a tipped-over sun-lounge would be a better description.
Over the past few weeks, my bowel motility has reverted to pre-PCP conditions. I certainly drink less water now as I'm just not all that thirsty - except when exercising of course. The gallons of anally-trapped air that resulted in scarcely forewarned eruptions (all sound and fury, signifying nothing) that were a problem a few weeks ago seem, thankfully, to have dissipated.
I still get the periodic Bristol "Type 1" turd (see chart below) but am mostly back to Type 2 and 3 - where I like to keep things. The rapidity of my evacuations has declined somewhat (relative to pre-PCP) but I can still usually drop trou, and get the kids into the pool in just a few seconds.
The noisy, heaving and clenching offensive I had to engage in while adjusting to all these vegetables is a thing of the past and I'm back to feeling safe I can attend a 2-hour meeting without worrying that I will have to take an emergency break at some point (unless of course I'm about to miss my protein window and need to eat an egg-white).
And so the obsession with everything that goes in one end of the alimentary canal and sweeps out the other continues. I think I might be becoming a little German. Time to install a European style trophy-toilet?
Sunday 17 July 2011
Back on the Booze Bus
It was my friend, Murf's birthday yesterday and he's been badgering me for weeks about whether I would come out and, more importantly, drink. Well, I decided a few weeks back to do both - you know, just to see what it would be like - and sort of a pat on the back for passing the half-way mark.
After a rushed post-workout snack (I ran out of hard-boiled eggs, so had to down my first ever raw undiluted egg-white - a much less bad experience than anticipated) a few of us went to the very cool Shady Pines. They make a pretty mean old-fashioned there, so I got into those. Instead of the free monkey-nuts on the tables, I ate my afternoon snack - a kiwifruit and a mandarin (highly complementary to the old-fashioned which comes with an orange-peel garnish anyway).
I was very conscious of not wanting to get utterly smashed, so I sipped slowly and also had water between rounds. I ended up drinking 4 of these bad-boys plus two Moo-brew Pale Ales (possibly Australia's finest beer and certainly all-natural) but over a period of almost 5 hours. I didn't get smashed but only because I was concentrating on not getting smashed, and that sort of defeats the fun aspect of drinking. I had lots of good banter with folk and got a few remarks that I was looking trimmer; and I was able to bore people with PCP related guff - it's their own fault for pretending to take an interest. Ultimately though, I just wanted to get home and get some kip; so at 10pm (I know - WILD) I made my excuses and walked back.
Still no boiled eggs, so I cooked up a couple of fresh ones and feasted on the whites. Decided with my extra alcohollow calories (I'm estimating now somewhere between 900-1,100) I would forego the rest of the food and went for a big snooze. Woke up at 5:30 slightly more dehydrated than usual, but fine. I feel a little tired, but not the "crap" reported by other folk. My general feeling is that it was a fun evening but the booze didn't add that much and I'm not in any hurry to repeat the experience.
Instead I'm off to Thomas Dux to stock up on food for the next week. Three-dozen eggs, you have been warned!
After a rushed post-workout snack (I ran out of hard-boiled eggs, so had to down my first ever raw undiluted egg-white - a much less bad experience than anticipated) a few of us went to the very cool Shady Pines. They make a pretty mean old-fashioned there, so I got into those. Instead of the free monkey-nuts on the tables, I ate my afternoon snack - a kiwifruit and a mandarin (highly complementary to the old-fashioned which comes with an orange-peel garnish anyway).
I was very conscious of not wanting to get utterly smashed, so I sipped slowly and also had water between rounds. I ended up drinking 4 of these bad-boys plus two Moo-brew Pale Ales (possibly Australia's finest beer and certainly all-natural) but over a period of almost 5 hours. I didn't get smashed but only because I was concentrating on not getting smashed, and that sort of defeats the fun aspect of drinking. I had lots of good banter with folk and got a few remarks that I was looking trimmer; and I was able to bore people with PCP related guff - it's their own fault for pretending to take an interest. Ultimately though, I just wanted to get home and get some kip; so at 10pm (I know - WILD) I made my excuses and walked back.
Still no boiled eggs, so I cooked up a couple of fresh ones and feasted on the whites. Decided with my extra alcohollow calories (I'm estimating now somewhere between 900-1,100) I would forego the rest of the food and went for a big snooze. Woke up at 5:30 slightly more dehydrated than usual, but fine. I feel a little tired, but not the "crap" reported by other folk. My general feeling is that it was a fun evening but the booze didn't add that much and I'm not in any hurry to repeat the experience.
Instead I'm off to Thomas Dux to stock up on food for the next week. Three-dozen eggs, you have been warned!
Wednesday 13 July 2011
Brand New Graph
Week 6 is over so it's time for a new graph. Thanks to some rather non-constructive feedback from the more ... special-needs folk in our team, I have replaced my usual comprehensive and informative analysis with some more intellectually digestible annotations. I'm sure the rest of you can interpret the data yourselves.
Still, though - 16 fucking percent! Nice!
Monday 11 July 2011
Sorely Kneaded
I have had a rotator-cuff problem for a long time on my right shoulder. I was kind of hoping that as the training for PCP went on, I would recruit it as normal and it would improve with everything else. It's been going reasonably well, though it has hurt on the chest and tricep dips. Today it finally decided to give me a serious telling-off at the end of set 1 of the triceps where I think my shoulder muscles were compensating. I'm glad I don't have to hit it up again for a couple of days.
I decided as we're approaching the half-way point and with this little pain nagging me, I deserved a massage. So off I trotted to the local Thai place (the nice one - not the one where the girl once whipped away my towel for some leg-work and then came uncomfortably close to touching my gland). I didn't realise how knotted up most of me has become through the programme. As the intensity increases, it might be worth doing this every week or two. In any case, I feel smashing after it - recommended to all of you as a PCP-compliant treat (I hope).
I decided as we're approaching the half-way point and with this little pain nagging me, I deserved a massage. So off I trotted to the local Thai place (the nice one - not the one where the girl once whipped away my towel for some leg-work and then came uncomfortably close to touching my gland). I didn't realise how knotted up most of me has become through the programme. As the intensity increases, it might be worth doing this every week or two. In any case, I feel smashing after it - recommended to all of you as a PCP-compliant treat (I hope).
Sunday 10 July 2011
Dressing up Dinner
Oh - Patrick also mentioned:
If you search the web for "egg white recipes" you'll find people doing all kinds of cool stuff with egg whites.
Well, I finally did it just now. You've got to be having a laugh, Reynolds. 90% of the recipes are for meringues and pavlova (I'm no nutritionist, but I'm guessing these aren't on the program) and the rest are such inspirational gems as "egg white omelette" (though none specifically with apple), "egg white in flavoured milk", "egg whites with instant noodles" and my piquant little favourite:
Large fried egg - crack 6 egg whites + 1 yolk into a pan - I then fry it as I would a normal egg - over easy, leaving the yolk runny. Then I break the yolk and spread it out over the egg white so that it gains some flavour. Maybe add tomatoe (sic) sauce.
I can see them serving that up on the closing night at El Bulli.
Just let me eat the stupid hard-boiled eggs with a little bit of seasoning in peace like the reclusive obsessive monster I'm becoming.
Day 40 - Why Does That Ring a Bell?
Maybe it was because Patrick mentioned this on Day 0:
At this motivational trough, when I realised I needed to lift my game to keep pushing myself for another 2 months, that nasty cold smacked me upside the head on Monday morning. So that day and Tuesday were pretty shit, but by Wednesday I was back pushing myself (particularly in light of Patrick's reminder and admonishment that when sick we absolutely should not drop skipping - which is exactly what I dropped Monday and half-assed Tuesday).
Interesting observation about the cold - normally when I wake up with a cold and blow my nose, there's a varying amount of green congealed snot - no surprises there - but in the past, whenever the snot has been fresh and liquid, it has also been crystal clear. I believe this was the first time in my life that I saw my body produce molten green-yellow booger. I would have been less surprised and alarmed had it been red with blood. Maybe it's because of all the vegetables I've been eating.
Diet wise things have been pretty alright. I've forgotten an egg white or a piece of fruit here or there, hopefully not to the detriment of the overall effort; it's so much easier on work days when you have a schedule, mind. I was actually getting quite into doing creative dishes when our meals resembled meals and had a little repertoire of compliant dinners I was working on. But now that lunch looks like dinner and dinner looks like - well let's not dress it up - a fucking apple - there seems to be less opportunity for trying anything interesting. This is not such a bad thing, but also makes grocery shopping a bit duller too.
So, poor time-management and the residual cold-related wheeziness have made all training more annoying than usual this week. In detail:
I was reminded of another prescient quote from the first day by Patrick:
But I ... DIDN'T ... cry! HARD CORE!!!
So, do I have that voice? Not quite, but the last week has been hard motivation-wise. A lot of other people have alluded to the first-month milestone they were working towards and of course, the realisation that having attained it, there's no respite, no rest, no reward, just more (a fucking huge amount more) of the same to go, and worse.And trust me, around Day 40 you will have a very loud voice in your head telling you to quit!
At this motivational trough, when I realised I needed to lift my game to keep pushing myself for another 2 months, that nasty cold smacked me upside the head on Monday morning. So that day and Tuesday were pretty shit, but by Wednesday I was back pushing myself (particularly in light of Patrick's reminder and admonishment that when sick we absolutely should not drop skipping - which is exactly what I dropped Monday and half-assed Tuesday).
Interesting observation about the cold - normally when I wake up with a cold and blow my nose, there's a varying amount of green congealed snot - no surprises there - but in the past, whenever the snot has been fresh and liquid, it has also been crystal clear. I believe this was the first time in my life that I saw my body produce molten green-yellow booger. I would have been less surprised and alarmed had it been red with blood. Maybe it's because of all the vegetables I've been eating.
Diet wise things have been pretty alright. I've forgotten an egg white or a piece of fruit here or there, hopefully not to the detriment of the overall effort; it's so much easier on work days when you have a schedule, mind. I was actually getting quite into doing creative dishes when our meals resembled meals and had a little repertoire of compliant dinners I was working on. But now that lunch looks like dinner and dinner looks like - well let's not dress it up - a fucking apple - there seems to be less opportunity for trying anything interesting. This is not such a bad thing, but also makes grocery shopping a bit duller too.
So, poor time-management and the residual cold-related wheeziness have made all training more annoying than usual this week. In detail:
- I might sort of be beginning to get the hang of Pistol Squats. The first day there was about a millimetre between too low to push back up versus being too easy. I think they're starting to look more like they're supposed to and the follow-up leg work kills me, so I guess I'm doing something right.
- I have still not done a full Pull-up (I await Pete's discouraging words) though the are inching (millimetring) closer to a reality. Getting more clean reps on inclines each time.
- Bicycles are weird. Not sure I've done those well today seeing as I just noticed the Pro Tip not to touch your back to the chair.
- V-Sits - getting less awful - though still predominantly awful.
- Ditto, Planks.
- Side Crunches aren't that hard which makes me think I'm doing them wrong.
I was reminded of another prescient quote from the first day by Patrick:
In a few weeks it'll be plenty hard. You will cry a few times.After one of the Creeps sessions, I sort of fell over sideways, spent utterly, and was catching my breath when I noticed my chin was wobbling uncontrollably, like that of a toddler who's about to completely lose his shit after he's realised that the big lick they took from his ice-cream popped the nice part off and onto the ground leaving him with an empty conical wafer that looks like someone jizzed on the rim just to add insult to injury.
But I ... DIDN'T ... cry! HARD CORE!!!
Tuesday 5 July 2011
Potentially Lethal Manflu!!!
After my huge night out on Saturday (downed 4 mineral waters in 2 hours and didn't come home till midnight - GO ON), I woke up on Sunday with a tickle in my throat. I felt increasingly lethargic as the day progressed but managed to do my training and produced a few days' worth of meals before retiring for the evening. By Monday, though, I felt like muck. I decided to leave the strength training till after work and abandoned skipping - taking the view that Tuesday would be all skipping anyway, so why risk a heart attack, embolism or worse.
Add to this the fact that my resting heart rate which had been wending its way down below 50 was suddenly up to 80bpm, I decided my body was definitely fighting something and to come up with a strategy. They say feed a cold, but that's verboten (unless I feed it tea and oranges that come all the way from China, and just when it means to tell me that it has no love to give me then I get it on my wavelength and I smash it in in its face (as L. Cohen would almost say)). So instead I decided to sleep the fucker away. I was in bed by 9, dropped a half sleeping tab to assure immediate off-noddage and was asleep by 9:30. Unfortunately I awoke at 11:20 and didn't get back to sleep until 3am. So instead of 9 hours sleep, I got about 6.
A crabby day ensues. I attempted skipping this evening, but felt immediately dizzy so went to the static bike in the building gym but was soon wheezing away with a skyrocketing pulse on a very low effort. Total workout time < 10 minutes.
Assuming I live through the night, I may try again in the morning.
And if not, it's been nice knowing you guys. Except Pete, obviously. And Patrick who suggested I deserved this dread-ailment.
Add to this the fact that my resting heart rate which had been wending its way down below 50 was suddenly up to 80bpm, I decided my body was definitely fighting something and to come up with a strategy. They say feed a cold, but that's verboten (unless I feed it tea and oranges that come all the way from China, and just when it means to tell me that it has no love to give me then I get it on my wavelength and I smash it in in its face (as L. Cohen would almost say)). So instead I decided to sleep the fucker away. I was in bed by 9, dropped a half sleeping tab to assure immediate off-noddage and was asleep by 9:30. Unfortunately I awoke at 11:20 and didn't get back to sleep until 3am. So instead of 9 hours sleep, I got about 6.
A crabby day ensues. I attempted skipping this evening, but felt immediately dizzy so went to the static bike in the building gym but was soon wheezing away with a skyrocketing pulse on a very low effort. Total workout time < 10 minutes.
Assuming I live through the night, I may try again in the morning.
And if not, it's been nice knowing you guys. Except Pete, obviously. And Patrick who suggested I deserved this dread-ailment.
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