Friday, February 27, 2015

Pain first, coffee later...

Pain First...

Working out with Tim has taken me places that I would never voluntarily go myself.  Recently this man, whose sanity I will occasionally question, introduced me to a workout that he called "The Murph".....

The Murph is a cross fit training routine named in memory of Navy Lieutenant Michael Murphy.  My understanding is that this routine was one of his favorites.

(Sadly, Lieutenant Murphy made the ultimate sacrifice for his country while stationed in Afghanistan in 2005.  God bless him.)

So after a 500m swim Tim and I made our way over to Rock Chalk Park to do the Murph:

1 mile run
100 pull ups -- 20 sets @ 5 reps
200 push ups -- 20 sets @ 10 reps
300 squats (no bar) -- 20 sets @ 15 reps
1 mile run

Tim is the max effort guy of this not so dynamic duo. I'm more like the reluctant hero -- (quick, to the bat couch) --- but anyway. Tim stressed to me that there are to be no breaks in between sets; pull ups into push ups into squats and back into pull ups.

"You think we can do the entire workout in 45 minutes?" Tim asked.

"I think you should quit smoking crack." I replied.

"Right!!!! Let's go." said Tim... (Dah da-da DA!!!!)

I ran the first mile in 7m 6s; it wasn't graceful, but it was done. However I am proud to say that that was my best time since I started running with Tim.....It was a good pain.  Now, on to the weight room.

It only took about three sets into the Murph for me to realize that there was no way I was going to be able to do the pull ups.  I changed over to a modified pull up, which is basically me lying on the floor and pulling up on a bar laid out on a squat rack.  With one third of my body weight eliminated from the pull up I was able to continue.

The pushups and the squats I just managed to gut out......But only because Tim was there to push me. I would have stopped at 10 sets had I been by myself.

To make a long story short it was a difficult routine.  I was ready to quit at set number eight, by set fifteen I really had to ratchet down mentally to keep going.  It was ugly....But we got it done.

The fatigue I felt took up every square inch of my body....I was more than ready to lay on a bench, curl up in a ball,  and take a nap.

"Okay, ready to run?" Tim asked.

Uh.....God.

I was so tired that I couldn't think of a good smart ass remark.  I barely managed to mutter, "Ayuh....."

So the first run was bad. But the second run was hell from the very first step.

"C'mon Tom!!!"

Huff, huff, grunt....."Ayuh."

Picture a screaming, slurring drunk, one legged man attempting to perform a ballet routine and you might get a general idea for how I at least felt that I may have looked when I ran that horrible mile.

With every step I took I just knew that both my ass cheeks were going to explode.  I almost felt sorry for those who would be within range of the blast area once my fiery ass cheek grenades detonated.

Another part of me felt very sorry for myself.  I mean, after all, one cannot wear blue jeans comfortably without ass cheeks to hold them in place.  I grimaced at the thought of a life with suspenders and overalls in them.

(Yeah, this is the kind of crap I think about when I'm in pain....I guess it's how I cope.)

It was the longest 9 m 40s mile of my life.

I am not going to be able to move tomorrow, I thought.  I was bent over, hands on my knees and ready to fall over.  I hurt......

But then Tim mentioned coffee......and suddenly all was right with the world.


Coffee Later...
Nothing makes the world a sunnier, happier place than a really good cup of coffee.  As tough as the workouts are I look forward to them because I know that afterwards we get to go out for a cup of joe....

Does that mean that I've been conditioned?  This whole thing suddenly has a kind of Pavlovian feel to it.

Eh....Whatever.  I just know I get coffee --- that's good enough for me.

So Tim and I have decided that we are going to try and hit every single coffee shop that Lawrence has to offer.

So far we have hit:
Dunn Brothers -- salted caramel -- two happy Pino's  (Tim and I are half Filipino, in case you didn't know)

Starbucks -- annoying self absorbed prick aside (customer, not barista) the coffee was good.  I would say though that it's a little too mainstream for us. 1 and a half happy Pino's

Alchemy -- very aptly named.  It was like watching a chemist at work. Great entertainment value with very tasty results. 2 very impressed and happy Pino's

Scooters -- Not bad. It's a drive through that can work well in a pinch.  1 and a half happy Pino's.

J & S coffee -- if you're looking for something to satisfy your sweet tooth, then the Grasshopper is the drink for you....It's almost too sweet --- almost.  1 and 3/4 happy Pino's

Henry's -- Maybe I caught them on a good day, but it seems that Henry's had the strongest coffee that I have had compared to every where else I've been.  A very good dark coffee with two shots of espresso.  2 happy and very wide awake Pino's.

Honestly, Tim and I would make very poor coffee house critics.....We just love coffee too much.  The coffee would almost have to be the equivalent of boiled worm dirt for us not to like it......(But with enough cream and sugar I believe that even boiled worm dirt could possibly be made acceptable.)



I think Tim and I have achieved the proper balance.  Gut it out and get through a tough and occasionally shitty workout --- then reward ourselves with coffee.  Yeah, I can live with that.

But I will say this about the workouts.  No matter how tough they are we both walk away feeling great about what we accomplished. We both know that, in time, the workouts will get easier -- and that's what keeps us going. (And, no, not all the workouts are like the one I just mentioned.)

 So even if you took the coffee away, it's still a good day....

But if we can have coffee........ Well....  :)

                 





Thursday, February 19, 2015

Veteran...

The elderly man and his wife walked into Constitution Hall together.  He was very thin and walked slightly hunched over; giving him a frail appearance.  But his eyes suggested that he was anything but frail.  Even in his advanced years his baby blues blazed brightly and his smile was so big that if he were to tell me that he were the luckiest man on Earth I would not have doubted him.

The man and his wife had come to see a speech/reenactment of a part of the Bleeding Kansas series; one of six reenactments that the curator and his friends put on every year.

"So are you a historian?" the old man asked.

"Well, I'm kind of new to this era," I said, "I still have a lot to learn.  I know more about World War Two and have been reading up a little bit on World War 1."

"Ah," said the bright eyed old man, still smiling, "I served in World War Two."

My heart skipped a beat and I was temporarily speechless.  I get excited about meeting World War II veterans much the same way as people get excited about meeting a movie or rock star.

I haven't met many World War II vets (that I know of) --- four to be precise. So when I suddenly found myself talking to a fifth veteran, I really had to work to stay under control.

As soon as the old man mentioned he was in the war I noticed the World War II pin on the lapel of his jacket; it had been tucked away beneath his trench coat before.

And I must say that the gentleman was dressed very sharply, only enhancing his bright eyes and winning smile.

"I served in the Pacific," he said.

"Really?" I said, "That's where my granddad served."

"Who was he with?" the gentleman asked.

"The seventh division."

"Marines?"

"No. Army."

"Ah....That's good." he nodded.

He then pulled an old photograph out of his wallet and showed it to me.  His face beamed as he presented it.

"Here is a picture of me and my lovely bride of seventy years."

Seventy years?  I was thunderstruck.  In this day and age where twenty years seems a momentous accomplishment it took a while for what he said to sink in.......Seventy years.  Wow.

They were a stunning couple.  (Still are actually) My memory is hazy but I know for sure that I saw the gentleman in his Navy dress uniform but I sadly can't seem to remember what his wife was wearing.  Regardless, they were so young and full of life.

I smiled as I stared at this beautiful photograph.

"It's good that you have this," I said, "My granddad didn't hang on to any of his things.  When he came home from the war all he kept were his discharge papers." (He did hang on to a few photographs, but I was a little nervous and forgot that minor detail,)

"When I made his shadow box," I continued, "Everything that I put in it was a replica."

"Well," said the gentleman, "When I came home from the war I put everything in a box and put it away."

"He buried it in a drawer," said his wife, "He never looked at it."

The gentleman shook his head and smiled, "I didn't look at it again until I was eighty years old."

When he said that it answered the long lingering question that I had been carrying with me ever since the day granddad died.  That was seventeen years ago.....

For seventeen years I had always agonized and wondered if I should have brought up the war with granddad.  I wondered if I had just blown an opportunity to learn some very valuable family history.

But after hearing how this man shoved his memories into a box and refused to relive them for almost sixty years it confirmed to me that I had done the right thing by my granddad by not bringing it up.

It sucks not knowing about everything my granddad saw and all that he did.  But I would never want to learn about his time in World War II if it were to come at the cost of his piece of mind.

"I suppose I we had better find our seats" said the gentleman. "It's been nice meeting you."

I reached out and shook his hand. "Yes, sir.  Nice to meet you."

The old man, with his bright blue eyes, nodded and smiled as he released my hand to take a seat at the reenactment with his wife.

As he walked away I couldn't help but smile myself....I just met another member of the greatest generation.  What a great day....A great day, indeed.










Thursday, February 5, 2015

It doesn't have to be graceful...

My workouts with Tim has turned out to be a mini (maybe two mini's) triathlon for two days out of the week.  Every Monday and Tuesday we start with a swim, move on to a run, and finish with the stationary bike.  Yeah, that's out of order, but at this point I fear that my run will turn into a jello-legged crawl if I try to use the bike first.

Finish up with an ab workout and a quick burnout session in the weight room (weight room has been off an on, depending on if we have anything left in the tank) and the ensuing Wednesday afternoon turns into awesome nap day.  I haven't slept this good for a very long time.

Anyway, I have to say that when Tim first suggested the mini (mini) triathlon my first thought was "This is not going to end well for me."

But, to my surprise, I'm hanging in there.  I'm nowhere near where Tim is, but I'm hanging in there.  The sense of accomplishment I feel has made all the grunts, groan, aches and pains worth it.  It hasn't been graceful ---- but that's okay.  I wouldn't know what to do with style points anyway.

What makes this workout difficult for me is the fact that:

1. Compared to Tim, I am not a distance runner. and
2. I am not a good swimmer --- at all......

But it doesn't have to be graceful....It just has to be done.

The Run...

It's amazing how much your time improves when you run on an indoor track.  No hills, no traffic, no cold weather and, most importantly, no raspy lungs.  It's nice knowing that I can go for a run indoors and not have to take a puff on my inhaler.

My 5k run outside with Tim resulted in an average nine minute mile; along with some hacking, coughing, and wheezing.  The mucous factory was working overtime on that run. A good time was not had.

My 5K run inside was significantly better.  The first time Tim and I ran we averaged 8m 23sec a mile -- a noticeable improvement.  And while I had a knife in my side and my legs were wobbly I was breathing just fine, sort of --- and that was after a swim.

The second indoor run Tim looked at me and asked "Get it under 8?"

I had assumed that there were two ways to answer this question. But then I remembered who I was talking to.......

If yes, Tim will say "Awesome."

If no, Tim will say, "We can do it."

So since there is really only one answer to the question I said yes.

As soon as Tim set the pace I knew that I had my work cut out for me.  I passed a mother who was running and pushing her baby in a stroller.

"Wanna trade?"

"You wanna push this?" she asked.

"No,  I'm talking to the baby."



"Can you keep this pace for a mile?" Tim asked

(yes -- awesome  no---you can do it)

"Yes."

"Awesome."

There are a lot of words that I could use to describe that mile run and "awesome" would not be one of them.  But when I found out that we ran it in 7m and 47sec?

Yeah, that's pretty awesome.

The rest of the 5k went to shit and I actually had to stop and walk couple of times.  But it certainly didn't take away that great feeling (mentally, not physically) that I had about running the first mile in under 8.

Meanwhile, Tim wasn't even breathing hard.  I found out later through casual conversation that Tim once ran nine miles at around a 7m/mile clip.

First off --- nine miles....Why?
Secondly....That's incredible.  Why did Tim have no interest in sports?  Probably because there isn't a gun involved.....But that's another story for another time.

7m and 47sec.......Wow.  It hurt....But it was worth it.

Still.  I'm in no hurry to do that again.  I would like to go at a pace where I can run an entire 5k without stopping.  Which would put Tim to sleep.

I told him once that if he needed to go to just leave me......He hasn't yet.  He's blown me away with his sprint to finish the run (I don't have a kick left in me by that point) --- but he's never left me.....He pushes me --- and I'm not ashamed to admit that I do better when he is there to push.

It wasn't graceful....But I got it done.....


The Swim.....
I may not be built for long distance running --- but I'm even worse at swimming.  I'm slow, I'm awkward and, for some reason, I always manage to choke at least once or twice by getting water up my nose.  It's safe to say that I have no future as a lifeguard.

Fortunately, the indoor pool where Tim and I go to swim laps has lanes that are only four to five feet deep.  Had the lanes been deeper when Tim told me that we were going to attempt 500m I would have said I'm out.  I'm just not that comfortable in the water.

But the 500m actually didn't go that bad.  I was tired, but I felt that I could have gone further.  Granted I didn't keep pace with Tim; who easily doubled me --- but I felt really good about what I accomplished.

So much so that on the day when I was working out on my own I decided to set the bar high.  I was going to swim 1600m.

And by God, I did it!!!!  I looked like a sloth on valium wading through mud (it took just over an hour to swim 1600m)  --- but I did it.

Man.... (Cue James Brown) I feel good!!!



Working out with Tim has kick started the long dormant motor within me.  I had reached a point where, physically, I was "okay" with where I was at in my life. (Even though I really wasn't)

When complacency appears, goals disappear.  And when goals disappear ---- so does ambition.

I kind of lost my way there for a bit.  But now I'm back in the saddle and, as difficult as it has been at times, I am amped up and raring to go.

A conversation that Tim and I had before one particular workout stuck with me and serves as a reminder every time I think I can't go any further.

We talked about reasons to stay motivated.

When I thought about what would motivate me I thought about my own kids and all the kids that I coach.  Every practice, every game I preach "Effort and Attitude".

"Give me your best effort along with you best attitude and all is right with the world."

Then I thought about me standing there and coaching first base with a pot belly.  I thought about my son or daughter or any one of the kids that I coach out running me around the bases.

I thought of how much of a hypocrite I would be if I didn't practice what I preach.

It was a good conversation.  One I would've never had if not for Tim.

Yes.....I definitely found a reason to stay motivated.

I will run...I will swim.  I'm not very good at either --- but that's not going to stop me from trying.



It doesn't have to be graceful......It just has to be done.