Four Phases

Phase 1: Stability and Mobility Training

Phase 2: Movement Training

Phase 3: Load Training

Phase 4: Performance Training

These are the initial phases in functional movement and resistance training.  The names themselves are pretty self explanatory but as I read about them I began to thinking about how these four phases can also represent more than just your basic "we're going to work out today" mentality.  These could easily be translated into other life skills and situations as well.

For instance, in relationships.  I am going to be leaning in on the mostly romantic type (dating in particular) but we could probably break this down for other types of relationships as well.

Phase 1: Stability and Mobility Training. In personal training, this is when the trainer checks out where a client is in their posture, how well they move and if they are physically able to stay stable during certain types of movements.  This is when the exercise is at it's easiest - and an idea begins to form as to how in or out of shape a client is.  Just looking at someone can never give you a full assessment.

In dating, this is the two dates or first two times you meet or hang out with someone.  Usually this occurs in a restaurant or bar setting - movies are a bad idea because you can't see or talk to one another.  Personally, I wouldn't want my trainer training me in the dark. We get to see what they look like, we get to see their body language, we get to see if they are initially stable (or someone we want to even bother getting to know even the slightest bit better).  We get a feel for where they are in their life - and see if it matches where we are even a little bit.  Or if it just won't work.  (Though "it just won't work" shouldn't be something your trainer should ever say to you in the overall.)  Or, possibly, this could be when you decide if this is someone who makes your heart flutter enough to be willing to overlook the already glaring issues.  In short, if someone has scoliosis, exercise ain't going to straighten out their back but there are still other obvious benefits to exercise.

Phase 2: Movement Training: This is the phase where basic movements are perfected.  Five types of movement in particular.  Bend-and-lift movements, single-leg movements, pushing movements, pulling movements and rotational (spiral) movements.

In dating, this starts to occur after I would say the first two dates but somewhere in the first couple weeks of a relationship.  This is when we decide we do want to know this person better - for sure.  Even if it's just in the bedroom or if it's out in the world - we want to see how they move.  We want to see how they bend and lift.  Do they bend from the back or from the knees?  Is their lifting manner soft or hard?  How do they handle themselves in relaton to you?  Are they polite or are they gruff?  We want to see what their single-leg movements are like.  Do they appear to want to walk in front of you, in back of you or side by side?  We want to see their pushing movements.  Do they really, really want to see you again - or do they barely open the door at all.  Or do they wait for the wind to swing the door open when someone else (you) opens it.  In other words, do they dig you?  We want to see their pulling movements.  Do they pull back at certain triggers, do they want to take it slow or want to take it fast?  Do they seem unafraid - even in the slightest - to want to pull you toward them.  Or, do they seem a bit timid about this?  We want to see their rotational movements.  Are they someone who spins their wheels - are they someone who seems to live in repeated patterns (according to their stories, mentalities, etc.).  In short, are they someone going (or staying) where you want to be?

Phase 3: Load Training: This is when weights are usually added in personal training.  And from there you progress with the weights and really get serious workouts in.

Now, I could go all sexual with this whole thing but I'm choosing not to.  So - this is when you really start to go somewhere.  The relationship starts building and you begin to rely on each other - if for nothing else than regular company.  (Though if it's love - I would hope it wouldn't just be about having a mere companion for that Saturday afternoon movie.)  This goes on for a while.  For some, this could easily go on forever.  You start out small - at five pounds (agreeing on who handles paying for dinner each time you go out - sometimes it will be one person, sometimes the other, sometimes it'll be dutch OR one respective partner will always be footing the bill - this is between you two after all) then you move to ten pounds (who's place is better to stay at according to what's going on - or just plain ol' better to stay at - let's say... the one who does NOT live with mom and dad).  Then you move on from there... until... of course... you either enter into a partnership at the living together level or you get married.  (Hey - while I personally believe in marriage - not everyone does nor can everyone get married.)  Though, as stated earlier, for some... parts of this phase will always exist in the partnership or marriage levels.  This phase is all about learning to work together - as you mount on a little more stress at a time.  (Not all stress is bad stress, after all.)

Phase 4: Performance Training: This is the phase that goes the distance.  Literally.  If you are going into competition, this is the phase you will have to enter into in order to do well.  Many, if not most, of the people who work out will ever even come close to this phase.  Because, frankly, many, if not most, do not want to.

This is the biggie.  This phase is the equivalent of tests of the relationship, major life stresses, children and money.  This is the make or break of many relationships.  Many relationships will not make it all the way to phase 4, more often than not... and that's ok.  We don't all want to marry everyone we date - or even live with - right?  After going through phases one through three, this is the one that can really, truly see how well you do together.  No relationship is roses all the time.  But the seeds for those roses should always be there - even if they're tucked in the ground.  Not every athlete who has trained will even rank in the end.  Not every relationship survives this phase - which is often a very sad situation - officially married or not.  Just as it is that not every world champion will also get Olympic gold - the important part is that they did not back down - they tried.  Which is not to say that no world champions get Olympic gold - plenty do.  And for those who make it into phase 4 and their relationship keeps on ticking - well - that is something that should be celebrated in the closing ceremony of life.

Cinco Dias

Ok, I've done it.  I got through an entire semester's worth of Spanish in 5 days.  And several weeks worth of a second semester too.  My brain is fried.  I have no idea what the last few things I learned were.  At the point where I became utterly confused, I put it down.  Not because I didn't want to figure it out but because I simply couldn't.  I had grown a bit on the weary side by the time I got to ejercicio ocho y nueve en capitulo tres.

And I'm ok with that.  What takes many students 5 to 15 weeks to do, I did in five days.  Not a small feat, if I do say so myself.

Tomorrow I return to class - feeling slightly more confident that I just might make it to week 15 after all.  Not that I really ever thought I couldn't or wouldn't make it - but I might just have a chance at chasing down a segunda "A" in espanol.  Something that was completely and totally impossible in high school.  Why that is - I'm not sure.

I have my theories.  Though I think it's a witch's brew of reasons, not just one.  I managed somehow - to squeeze through Spanish in high school but what a painful experience that was.  Good Lord, I do not really enjoy thinking back to those days all that much - so I won't go any further.

What's my point here?

I'm realizing, I don't have a specific one.  I'm rambling.  But - that's ok too.  I'm just happy that after the intensity of the last five days - for the next fifteen weeks, I can sit back and enjoy my education.  

Spanglish 102

It's the little things for me.  The small choices that are the right choices.  The skipping of a happy hour in order to finish studying.  The skipping of a happy hour in order to squeeze a workout in.  The skipping of a happy hour for the sake of my liver.

This, mis amigos, was a first.

Dammit... something went wrong... I had this whole Spanglish thing going on that I don't really feel like re-doing.  But - it didn't save.  Class started the other day, I've got an entire semester's worth of work to review before Monday a las once.

Suffice it to say, be prepared for some espanol en coming blogs.  It may not always be perfecto pero por those whom leen for some time now... tu know that when yo es en clase - mis blogs are heavily influenced by whatever it is yo es estudia.

Strange that more of my personal training stuff doesn't make it onto here... still studying that too.

A Caveman Makes PB&J

Success has been rare.  But - for me - what has been even rarer still is the discipline or drive it takes to get to a successful place.  Now, just to make it clear, I do not completely blame myself here.  Nor do I blame anyone else.  I don't place blame because I do not think this is something in which blame has any rightful place. 

This has been a process of preparation.  I have had a few successes that I am happy with.  Not many but a few.  Things I have worked towards and gained.  Yet, at the age of 31, they should have or should be more plentiful.  Again, however, this is no one's fault.  It just is.  Life circumstances have often times prevented me from moving on, moving up or just plain moving at all.  Between my disorder and a certain lack of structure in my formative years and beyond, I simply did not have the tools to work with. 

Would you blame a caveman for his inability to make a peanut butter and jelly?

No, he did not have the tools to do so.  Things in the world and in his life had not yet evolved in a direction where this was possible.  Simple as a PB&J is to make - to him it would have been impossible.  Not even a thought in his mind, not even a craving would have been because neither the peanut butter nor the jelly - or even the bread would have existed.

In my life, the tools just have not been present until now.  The tools being mostly internal, mostly mental and somewhat intangible.  I have had many of the physical resources for quite some time but had no idea how to put them together in order to create the bigger picture.

Before now - I simply didn't know how.  Nor could I get my thinking straight enough to make myself a very real, very full life. 

It's Done

It wasn't part of my 11 in 11 but it still has everything to do with it.  Reading.  Reading is just another part of writing.  Filling the mind with knowledge flows out into one's writing in a way that nothing else can.  So - when I finish a book that's over eleven hundred pages, I feel like I have accomplished something.  Little by little I made my way through "It" and now it's done.

I read it in just over a month.  I do not recall exactly when I started it but I do recall telling Little Mama that I had just started it and it was going to be an investment of my time to finish.  This was on the eve of the birth of her new little son.  I wish I were better about recalling the exact date.  And I think I may have started it just a day or so before that.  It took Stephen King 4 years to write. 

In that time, he did release other books, which makes me pretty sure that he worked on other projects besides that one all by it's lonesome.  Much like anyone who's working toward multiple goals at once.  You do a little each day and you will get there.  Wading across the water is exercise too, if you do it enough times.

Tonight or tomorrow I'll be starting my next book - nonfiction this time (I try to rotate between the two) - going with history this round.  Otherwise, just gotta keep on keeping on with my other goals.  Spanish II starts tomorrow too...

Just Doing It

You may recall the old Nike slogan "Just Do It".  While I'm not 100% sure if they're still actually using this slogan or not (and a quickie search online did not give me an answer), it's been bouncing around my brain often enough lately that I feel the need to mention it.

There are several things in my life that I have to do to get to where I am going.  Just as any of us who have goals can attest to.  The strange part of this to me is the fact that many times those small steps seem daunting in the grand scheme of the final outcome.  Even when you break them down into measurable increments, they still may seem boring or useless to do.  Not always - but often enough to make me (or you, maybe), just not do them.  Whatever they may be.  Many of us want the goal - not necessarily the work that goes into the goal.  No matter how satisfying that work may end up being - or garnering the pride and self esteem that taking those steps can bestow upon us - many times it may appear at the get-go that the small steps are useless and we may feel trapped by a "why bother?" attitude.

But - there is no other way to reach them.  And that's just how it is.  I could pin all my hopes on the Mega-Millions to pay off my debt... or I could just not use the credit cards that got me to where I am in that situation.  While I could spend more time in front of the TV, relaxing (and possibly finding out the current slogan of Nike in the process) - I find that I can't relax at all if I haven't placed enough check marks on the calender for the current week.  To me, the least relaxing feeling is taking a vacation I haven't earned.  Even if only for 20 minutes.

And by earned, I don't mean that I just the did the basics of getting up, showing up where I have to in order to get paid and then heading home just to do it all again the next day.  While you can earn alot in 8 hours, if you are not putting a real effort into life in the process, you haven't earned anything.

So lately, I've been saying "Just Do It" to myself.  The only way to obtain those goals is to put that work in.  The only way to feel confident in clothes that I truly love wearing is to get back into good, if not great, shape.  The only way to get a degree or certification is to read and study.  The only way to be a successful writer is to write.  The only way to see the world is to make the plans and get going.  The only way to a life well lived, with intention, is to do it.

What are you waiting for?  Just do it.

A Sign?

For those of you who have spoken to me recently... I have probably at some point made mention of Stephen King.  I started reading "It" a while back (and will be hitting page 1000 tonight... woo-hoo!) and started reading up on the writer himself.  I watched some interviews, I read some biographies - I've study a little Stephen King as of late.

Then today I went to see my doctor.  We discussed things and for some reason I opened up to her about my plans for the future and what I would like to do with myself.  Writing and studying literature... possibly go into teaching (I'd really love to get to teaching at the college level at some point in the future.)  And you know who's name she mentioned without me even mentioning him?

Stephen King.  She pointed out how he'd been a sixth grade teacher until his books took off.  This was just an example to her.  To me, I was thinking "it's a sign".  Now, granted, he is one of the most famous American writers of our time and he's a well-known example of success... but still... just the fact that it flew out of her mouth in such a nonchalant way, made me feel completely at ease.  I had never mentioned any of my writing to her before and she was completely happy to hear it.  She encouraged me to stick with the path and smiled brightly as she talked about "flow".  She appeared more pleased during this visit than any I've had before this.

It may have just been a coincidence but I can't help myself... I am going to keep on thinking "sign".  Just going to keep on thinking it, if for no other reason than it makes me feel good to have faith that my life is headed there... down the written road, if only I keep at it.

The Golden Voice

On Friday, a co-worker of mine mentioned the story of the homeless man with a golden voice.  His name is Ted Williams and he's gone from homeless one day to not so homeless the next.  Literally, in the blink of an eye.  Or, rather, in the blink of 48 hours.  I did not look the story up immediately.  But - when I did, I saw something amazing.  Something promising.  Not just for him but for all of us who've been feeling the wringer of life for just a little too long.

I've been having a tough time as of late.  This winter is taking a toll on me.  Right about now I feel trapped by it.  I don't look good, I don't feel good and I am definitely not doing all that good overall.  I manage to pull it together for a day here or there but I am simply not functioning at my optimum level - I'm not even ten levels down from my own personal optimum.  Just going to the grocery store - and completing the task of buying food feels like an accomplishment to me right now.  I am not happy about this but what can I do?  Winter is unavoidable in New Jersey.  Just as spiritual winter is often unavoidable in life.

I did get some really great news in the past week.  A small windfall of money.  Enough to give me a little security where there wasn't any before.  It's not a million dollars but it's enough - enough to help me feel a little better about me and where I am at 31 years old.  It was a relief.  For a day or so, I felt I had won the lottery emotionally.  Even if my brain did not take notice.  I still could not physically function any better than I had the day before.

Then someone mentions a story to me.  Something from the news - and eventually I take a look.  It's incredible.  Imagine spending a decade on the streets - only to have your God-given talents noticed by just the right person at just the right time.  Every once in a while the news has something great to mention, even if the positive story disappears almost faster than it appeared.

It's the story of the underdog in many of us.  The mistakes we make that leave us stranded by the side of the road.  The mistakes we make that screw it all up - that make our lives almost irredeemable to at least ourselves.  The mistakes we make that leave us feeling less than worthy, less than others.  The bad things that happen to us by no fault of our own.  Life just takes a sidestep and plans go out the window.  For some it's an injury or an illness.  For others, it's a raw deal when someone runs out on you or dies suddenly, violently or otherwise.  And still for others, it's chemical dependency of some sort - which is a mix of bad choices, bad influence and, of course, genes.  Yet, I believe all of these things happen for a reason.  Many times the reason is hidden from us.  Sometimes forever - sometimes only for a while - and sometimes the reason is obvious and in front of us - just as plain as can be.

Then the second chance comes.  A chance to redeem, a chance to step up to the plate again - a chance to maybe make it right.  To use the gifts of a second chance in order to maybe give other people a second chance (or a third, fourth or even fifth chance)  as well.

My heart is asking for the second chance.  God knows what that second chance is that I am hoping for and knows better than I do what I really need so I will just have to trust.  There's something about the story of Ted Williams that struck me so deeply.  (Follow the hyperlink earlier in the blog to see it.)  His sense of gratitude bursts out of him and into your heart.  It's the kind of gratitude that can really only come after a lost period when you see that maybe there are still some blessings in the bag for you too.  That maybe your mistakes do not have to make up the totality of your life.  Maybe that second chance is just waiting around the corner or on the street.  Maybe it's there for all of us who've been given a raw deal more often than not.  Don't get me wrong - I have plenty to be thankful for and I do say my thanks.  But - what I am hoping for is a chance to not only make it through another day but to make it to the end of this journey with a sense that I did get to where I was meant to be.

That's not my second chance though - not exactly.  My second chance remains between God and me.  

Kiddo

It ain't over till it's over.
-Yogi Berra

In front of us lies the ultimate truth.  It separates the men from the boys but it separates none of us in the end.  Some of us think of it often, some of us think of it little; if at all.  Then some of us are given weeks or months or the indecision of the in between time only.  The doctors say it may only be a couple weeks... a couple of months at best.

And then we say we will continue fighting.  Yet pain management and quality of life are all that is left to us as options.

A man calls you "kiddo" and it crawls up your skin and into your body.  For me, it has often been this - "kiddo" bothers me.  I long ago left "kiddo" on the doorstep of the local orphanage and took on the familiar role as a grown up.  Every once in a while - however - someone says it and I am not bothered, I am flattered.  I see Sally Field up on a stage yelling "You like me, you really like me" and I thank God that someone whom I respect sees me in this way.  I have alot to learn and alot to experience.  I am probably a child to you... even if you have to know me on an even playing field.

And you have always treated me as such.  Regardless of the "kiddo".

My last face to face interaction with you was in a parking lot.  You asked me how something was going and I gave you an "it's not" type of answer.  As in, "it's not going at all."  I had no idea these would be the last words I would speak to you - I had no idea that the expression of my annoyance at men on the other side of the world would be it.  You didn't mind however - you understood.  Life goes on around you, no matter what the doctors have to say.

This is striking me deeply.  Much deeper than I would have expected or preferred.  But - the truth is it's not over til it's over.  The fight is still in you - and it's still in me - though I do find myself resolving to the end that may very well be.  Denial is a formidable enemy to all.  The prayers are on my heart, in my head and leaving my mouth. 

I am scared of the truth.  Not just for you but for me as well.  Did you live a life well lived?  Did you do what you wanted to do?  Did you get to know God here so you would recognize Him/Her when you get there?  You probably will.  No one, and I mean no one, could be as pleasant and as good to work with as you have been without having a piece of God - as I believe I know Him - inside of them.

Thank you for being a really good, cool guy.  And thank you for calling me "kiddo".

The Fireworks Outside

In order to keep getting more of what you already have, keep doing what you are doing. If you want something different, you must do something different.
 – Lucy MacDonald

Each year I ring in the New Year ultimately the same old way.  The faces may change but I always end up watching the ball drop in Times Square.  On TV.  Same as many, many people across America.  There is nothing wrong with this and I have long enjoyed it.

The countdown usually gets me - the cheering that follows seems as though something grand has been accomplished.  In many ways, it has.  I mean, we've lived this long - long enough to see another year come and go.  That is exciting stuff. 
Each time the drill goes on and the ball slides down, wobbling ever so slightly and slowly, there is something unspoken about it.  At least for me.  My guess is for a great many other people as well.  It's the hope and promise of what we would like to believe the coming-up-on-you-quick year is going to bring.  It has long been the hope that this new year will finally be "my year".  The year when everything gets better and life finally starts happening on a larger scale.  That somehow these next twelve months are the beginning of something new, something fun, something exciting and most of all - something very real.  Something to write home about, something that will be there to reflect on, smile about and simply enjoy when the angels come to whisk you away at the old age of 88, lying on your bed at home saying goodbye to a life well lived.

This will be the year it all begins.

And each year - inevitably - this is not the way of it.  Life continues on at it's regular pace.  I continue to work a job that drowns out the life in me, I continue to walk the same path I've been walking and I continue to battle the same issues I have been battling for a long time.  Sort of.  Things do continue to evolve, even if I can't see it at the outset but only in hindsight.

Meanwhile - I continue each year, time and time again - probably 31 years of it, to watch the ball drop and to celebrate the seemingly magical promise that the change of the calender brings.  This year - however - I did it a different way.  I sat on my couching trying to read but really - I was texting with a good friend who was home sick this fine holiday when it dawned on me.

I was on my couch because I was waiting until a couple minutes before midnight in order to watch the ball drop once again.  This would be the first year - possibly in all of my life - I would be doing it alone.  I had to be in work early this morning and was already tired from a long day at work yesterday so I was going to watch the ball drop and then crawl into bed.  I had stopped by a friend's party in order to give her the respect of showing up - if even for a little bit - and I had a few small drinks.  Not nearly enough to get me drunk or even the slightest bit tipsy.  I was sipping a glass of wine as I was texting and trying to read the same paragraphs over and over again when I made the announcement. (To my good friend, Co-Britney Fan.)

I am going to spend this year under the covers in my bed.  I wished her the best of nights and the best of upcoming years, plugged my slowly dying phone into the wall and crawled under the sheets. (After pouring out the glass of wine in the sink.)  As I sat in the hospital with Eddie Kaspbrak and his mom - listening to the argument that ensued - I glanced once or twice at the clock but was lost mostly in what was going on in that Derry Home Hospital room. 

When I heard the fireworks go off I thought they were early then realized the time had flown by.  I listened to the noise makers and the fireworks - and for a couple moments I allowed myself a pity party - then I promptly told myself to shut-up, took my book to my book bag to bring with me today, crawled back into bed and went to sleep.  I wasn't going to be hungover this New Year's Day... though I wouldn't be particularly well rested... I wouldn't be hungover.  And I would get to work on time.  Which I did.

The light of my phone receiving a few text messages lit up my room periodically as I began drifting off to sleep.  I wasn't alone in the world - I was just alone in my room.

I am not going to pin all of my hopes and dreams on 2011 as I have in the past.  I am going to pay attention to my current goals and I am going to try to remain focused, which is something I have hardly done before.  I decided, in that quick moment of getting off the couch and getting into bed, of pouring out the glass of wine and choosing to do this sober that I was going to do something different - and who knows - maybe this will actually have a lasting effect.  Or at least it will be some small part of the changes puzzle that my life so desperately wants.