Month: October 2022

Daily Life

A Thirty-Year Story

Thirty years. Three decades. Staring at those words, it’s hard to believe I wrote them. That’s a long time. These days, that’s not a number you hear very often. In reality, this story starts before that. A chance encounter, arranged by a mutual friend. I certainly never would have thought that first meeting would change my life forever.

But clearly the hands of fate directed our paths to cross. And once they did, our separate paths quickly became one. We both knew almost right away that there was only one path for us. Sure, it took a little bit to fully commit to the path. School to finish and careers to get started. It took me a while… I think I was a bit insecure. I found it hard to believe sometimes that you picked me. A dorky ski and surf bum who didn’t have a clear vision of the future. But you did pick me, and always encouraged me to be more.

So, thirty years ago today, we officially started down this journey. We stood before God, family, and friends and said I do. A whirlwind, magical night, and then we jumped on a plane and headed for the Caribbean. I think we slept for 24 hours straight, exhausted from the festivities. And then we woke to a beautiful blue ocean, and wondered, now what?

I don’t think we’ve ever had a clear roadmap for what this journey is supposed to look like. Oh sure, we had vague thoughts about things like we should probably try to buy a house, saving for retirement, and general career ideas. But I don’t think we ever had a concrete plan for many things. We’ve very much gone with whatever way the wind was blowing. I love that about us. We were never afraid to try things. Being the first to leave family behind and move to a different state. Buying houses sight unseen. Adventures. Ski trips. Whitewater rafting. Dogs. Career changes. RV’s and motorcycles, and UTV’s. We’ve always done what feels right in the moment – and it’s always worked out for us.

But behind all that spontaneity – you have been the rock that holds us together. You are the glue that makes everything work. Sure, we talk, plan, and laugh together about crazy ideas of buying a house in the mountains, but you’re the one who actually says – let’s do it. You’re the planner and organizer. You keep the trains running on time. We would not be where we are today if you weren’t always there telling me that you believe in us and we can make whatever crazy idea it is, work.

But it hasn’t just been about buying things and having adventures. Your love and support have made me a far better person than I ever thought I could be. Your constant encouragement to think more of myself, to have confidence, and to attempt things I wouldn’t have done on my own means more than you’ll ever know. You’re exactly the partner in life that I needed, and I pray that I’ve been able to return the same to you.

Who knows where our path leads? I honestly don’t care. Wherever it goes, I’m confident we’ll make the most of whatever fate has in store for us. What I do know is that we are on this path together, always. Our path is a forever path. I don’t think many people are lucky enough to have that. I certainly don’t take it for granted. I am thankful every day that we had that chance encounter thirty-plus years ago. Let’s see where the next thirty years takes us.

I love you more than you’ll ever know. Thank you for being on this journey with me.

Health, Motivation

It Just Hurts

When I first started out as an RN, I’ll admit I got a bit judgmental sometimes towards certain patients. It was the folks who were fairly obese, in their late 60’s or early 70’s, and lacked the strength to get off the toilet or out of a chair. As two and sometimes three of us struggled to get them standing so they could shuffle back to bed, I’d say to myself “how could anyone let themselves get to that point?” They’d reject the physical therapists who came to work with them, saying they were too tired or hurt too much to do anything today. I’d do my best to encourage them, often admonishing them that if they didn’t start moving things were only going to get worse.

I just couldn’t fathom wanting to spend your remaining years in that condition. Why didn’t they take better care of themselves? One of the more common problems we’d see with this patient population was toenails. Nasty curled and twisted daggers that hadn’t been cut in god knows how long. Often they couldn’t wear socks anymore because you couldn’t pull them on without snagging on the nails. They’d just resort to wearing sandals or slippers all the time. Why? Because they’d become so deconditioned, they couldn’t bend over enough to clip their own toenails. It just seemed so crazy to me. And when they wouldn’t work with therapy and rejected most advice to do something, anything, to help themselves… I’ll admit I developed a certain lack of sympathy.

Fast forward to today. I hurt. Everywhere. I can barely lift my arms over my head. I look like an 80-year-old walking down the stairs. The moaning and groaning when I attempt to get down on the ground is ridiculous. Why am I in this state? Well… my back injury scared me enough that I’m going full speed, hard core, with my workouts. Every day has been at least an hour in the gym. Stretching, mobility work, kettle bells, club bells, lunges, squats, medicine balls… every exercise I can find on YouTube. Plus another hour and a half of hiking hills with the dog.

The end result is that I’m sore. Everywhere. There isn’t a body part that doesn’t hurt right now. Yes, I realize that I’m probably overtraining a bit. But I’m scared. The back strain was a brief window into a potential future if I don’t fix things. And I don’t like the future I saw.

Reality, as they say, came up and bitch slapped me in the face. I was forced to admit to myself the true, current state of all things physical. I’ve never been very physically strong, so I tended to avoid gym work. I was pretty good with endurance stuff, so that’s what I did. I mountain biked, skied, and ran. And I told myself I was in decent shape. Yes, cardiovascular-wise I was. But year after year my muscles were atrophying. Now, years of ignoring strength conditioning have caught up to me. I strained my back badly while sweeping leaves. Yes, really.

Muscle atrophy and weight gain are insidious creatures. They sneak up on you. Every year a little weaker, a little heavier. As it creeps up on you, your motivation to do something about it gets less and less. Sure, you try here and there to diet or start working out again, but it’s hard. The weight doesn’t come off and you end up hungry and frustrated. Your attempts to work out leave you sore and unable to walk. It’s really hard to keep getting after it when you feel like that. Pretty quickly you abandon the diet and give up the workouts. And the atrophy keeps setting in.

And that’s where I had a very real insight into how those patients let themselves go. And I feel bad for not having more empathy for them all those years ago. It would be so easy to do. I hurt, I’m sore, I’m tired. At my age, do I really need to be trying to lift weights? Let’s just stop. A heating pad and some pain pills will make me comfortable. Blink my eyes and I’ll be that old guy struggling to get off the toilet.

No. I’m not going to do that. I refuse to give up. I know that if I just keep pushing, eventually the soreness goes away. Muscles and tendons will become more supple. The aches and pains get better. Mobility and balance improve. I will not let atrophy win.

I’ll just have to wear hats for a while… my arms hurt too much to brush my hair.

Solving the wrong problem

Dude, Are You Even Green?

I woke up this morning to news that another whack job protester had glued his head to a famous painting in the Hague to demonstrate against climate change. Now I don’t generally advocate violence, but in these cases I might make an exception. The next time one of these protesters glues themselves to a wall, it would be lovely if the appropriate authorities would kindly assist them to the ground with some force when arresting them. Wouldn’t it be a shame if some of their newly glued skin remained affixed to the wall?

Ok, sorry. Had to get that out of my system. It baffles me that people can be so blinded by their religion, that they are able to justify anything to themselves as righteous. And yes, global warming is a religion. You cannot question it. You will be branded a heretic if you don’t believe. Never mind that every prediction ever made by the global warming/climate change/extreme weather cult hasn’t materialized… they just keep pushing the date out and hope you don’t notice. Ok, ok, I know we said there was only 10 years left to save the planet, 30 years ago – but this time we’re serious. We have graphs and charts!

The protesters belong to some group called “Just Stop Oil – No New Oil and Gas”. I guess it doesn’t occur to them that the vast majority of every modern product on the planet is some derivative of petroleum – including, ironically, the glue they used to fasten themselves to the wall with. The question the green zealots never seem to answer is, what is the alternative to all this nasty oil?

If pushed, their answer is often the elusive GREEN ENERGY. Wind turbines. Solar panels. Electric vehicles. Clean, renewable, and they don’t spew that nasty carbon dioxide that is literally DESTROYING the planet. Apparently in the green religion, products aren’t manufactured. They just magically appear – poof! Happy workers wearing hemp clothing scamper to the fields to collect the batteries and solar panels placed there by the green energy fairies.

I hate to do this, but I’m going to have to point out an inconvenient truth. Things like batteries are manufactured. In a factory. Factories that use many, many megawatts of energy and machines that run on that horrible oil and nasty diesel. And before that, all those components are made in other factories. And the components come from minerals and ore that must be dug out of the ground by, GASP, huge machines that run on oil and gas and diesel.

The average EV battery requires 250 tons of ore to be mined. Things like copper and lithium. What do you suspect the carbon footprint is of those huge mining dump trucks and ore crushers? If you’re curious, I’d highly recommend you read this thread about what it takes to produce the copper wire for your Tesla battery or giant wind turbine. The energy expenditure and carbon footprint is absolutely staggering.

The real truth is that accounting for manufacturing, the lifetime emission footprint of an electric vehicle is greater than the average gas vehicle. Wait, what? Yes, you read that right. Then there’s the current electric grid which couldn’t support the swapping of all gasoline cars with EV’s. Oh, and the pesky issue of where the electricity is going to come from. It certainly won’t be from wind turbines. And if you’re green, I know you’re not going to support the MASSIVE increase in mining operations that’ll be needed to harvest all the minerals required. We’ll also just ignore the fact that most of those mines are in countries that, shall we say, aren’t inclined to be friendly to the USA.

The hard reality is that wind, solar, and electric vehicles is not the answer – in fact it probably makes the problem worse. If you’re a card-carrying member of the green religion, I’d love to hear the plan to overcome these manufacturing obstacles. Unfortunately, I suspect the vast majority of green folks have never given it a thought. Like slapping an “organic” label on something, they buy their “clean energy” vehicle and feel good about themselves. Almost… righteous. And when you’re righteous, you can condemn and lecture anyone who dares to question the orthodoxy. Facts not required.

I also read today that the US is down to a 25-day supply of diesel fuel. That’s good, right? Let’s stop using that filthy planet destroying petroleum! Some folks may be surprised when they hop in their EV to go down to the local Starbucks for their soy latte, only to discover Starbucks never got their coffee supplies delivered. Something about every product in this country being delivered by diesel trucks and trains.

That’s silly. I’m sure nothing like that could ever happen. Could it?

Health

It’s So Small

I should probably start keeping a spreadsheet of all the fitness fads I’ve signed on to. You name it, I’ve probably done it. Except the Suzanne Somers Thigh Master. Never had one of those. This time around it’s the most ancient of all mankind’s tools – a club. In my relentless search to find a way to fix my back for good, I’ve decided to start waving a heavy club around at pedestrians in the street. Ok, maybe not exactly that.

I’ve been following a “fitness influencer” for quite a while who advocates for mastering some basic core, functional fitness movements BEFORE trying things like deadlifts and heavy squats. I’d forgotten I followed him until one of his videos popped up on YouTube while searching for back pain exercises. In a nutshell, he advocates a volume cycle of single arm movements with kettlebells and clubs, plus some presses and bodyweight squats as a starting point. Until you have proper hip rotation, foot alignment, and adequate core strength, you’re asking to get hurt trying more complex movements.

He had an interesting observation about ancient physiques vs today. The Greeks and Romans had relatively smaller shoulders, biceps, and chests. They had massive back muscles, forearms, abdominals, glutes and thighs. The exact opposite of what we think of today as the ideal physical form (massive chests and biceps, with tiny waists). I have neither form, so I’m nicely poised to go either direction.

Anyway, so I watched approximately 18 hours of heavy club swinging videos and got all excited. I just know this is the ticket to fix my back and bad shoulder. The club he likes is adjustable from ten pounds to something I wouldn’t even be able to lift. The problem is that it was a couple hundred dollars. Not sure I wanted to commit that much to something I wasn’t sure I’d like doing, I jumped on Amazon to look for an alternative. Sure enough I found some Chinese company selling a whole size range of clubs, starting at $19. Bingo. I ordered the smallest weight one, so I could get the form and movements right.

We were going to be out of town for a number of days, so I arranged for the package to be delivered to a UPS store. I was so excited about my new club I didn’t want any chance of someone stealing it off my porch. Mrs. Troutdog got home before me, so I had her go pick it up so I wouldn’t miss a moment of my new club training routine.

Now keep in mind the videos I’ve been watching featured a muscular guy swinging a giant, heavy three-foot club around like an ancient Viking crushing the skulls of his enemies. Imagine my face when I opened the box and saw my new club. It’s tiny. A foot long and 5 pounds. It looks like a child’s toy. Mrs. Troutdog looked at it with a puzzled face and asked, “what is this?” My aspirations of Viking-like strength dimmed a bit.

I’m not one to give up easily, so I’ve been doing my mini-club routine (near) daily. Here’s what I’ve discovered. I struggle to keep my feet aligned. I have very poor rotational mechanics. My shoulder mobility is very limited. I don’t know how to maintain a good pattern of exhale/inhale when doing movements. And standing fully upright while bracing my core and engaging the glutes leaves me sore for the rest of the day. All with a little 5-pound club.

Now I’m not saying swinging a club around is the end-all-be-all. But it’s working. It’s exposing flaws. So I’m going to keep up with it. Soon, I should be able to graduate to a heavier club. Viking-like abs may not ever be in my future but being able to get out of a chair without assistance, or to carry all the groceries in one pass will be.

I wonder what my next fitness fad will be?

Politics

We Have A Bear

There’s a bear that frequently circulates our neighborhood. Several actually. As the berries in the higher elevations disappear and the cold winter months loom, the bears roam in search of picnic baskets and garbage cans. I don’t like keeping my garbage can in the garage for odorous reasons. So, the bears and I play a game. I catch the bears on the security camera dragging my can down the driveway and I resolve to keep the can in the garage. After a while I don’t see any sign of the bear and I start leaving the can outside again. Mr. bear reappears, and the cycle repeats.

It’s usually a harmless game, with no casualties other than the bear-proof garbage can, which is decidedly not bear-proof. But every once in a while, one of the bears gets habitually aggressive and Fish and Game ends up euthanizing it. It’s sad because it wasn’t the bears fault. It’s my fault. And my neighbors. It would be easy to be mad at the bear and blame him for scattering garbage down my driveway. To be scared for kids and pets with an apex predator roaming the property in the dark. To demand that the authorities do something for the safety of the neighborhood. But we pushed the bear to be… well, a bear. We created a scenario where the bear had no choice – foraging in the woods or a grocery store of easy access scraps. He’ll go for easy every time.

It’s a parable for where we are today. The United States, virtually single-handedly, drove Russia into action. We’ve done everything possible to provoke the current conflict. And now, we’re at war. Oh, they didn’t tell you? We are in a full-scale proxy war with Russia. One that escalates every day. Biden’s energy secretary said the quiet part out loud this week: “releasing 15 million more barrels from the strategic oil reserves is required for the current “wartime footing.” Hmm. The national security council spokesman declared unlimited support for Ukraine for as long as it takes.

Funny, I don’t remember voting for war with Russia. The defense industry certainly voted for it – and clearly their vote counts more. All well and good, except this thing is rapidly spiraling out of control. NATO expansion is one of the big drivers of Putin’s actions. So, what do we do? Vote to expand NATO further. We directly, or via proxy, blow up Russia’s gas pipeline. Every month we further ramp up the billions of dollars of weapons we supply Ukraine. We have direct military assets on the ground advising Ukraine (you’re naive if you don’t think so). Daily the administration blames Russia for everything from high gas prices to climate change. We flat out refuse to negotiate with Russia. Not only have we left the garbage can out, but we’ve also left the lid open and scattered food scraps all around it.

And now with fiscal disaster and a new (to be determined) prime minister, the UK may start getting squeamish about sending more aid to Ukraine. And the US is looking at a red wave in November that might not be so excited to keep the Ukrainian money faucet fully open. This administration is so eager to continue stoking the war fires… do you really think some sort of false flag operation is out of the question? Some event that will justify the continued war and the need to pump additional billions into the defense industry coffers? We’ve certainly done it before. I think the next month will be an extraordinarily dangerous time period.

I know, I know. Tinfoil hat conspiracy theory. But if it’s even remotely true… we’re provoking a dangerous bear. We’re creating a scenario where he’ll have to respond. And this bear has nuclear weapons. Lots and lots of ’em. And don’t forget, there’s a Chinese bear looming out there as well. Waiting. Watching. And we happily keep poking that bear as well.

The caviler nature of this administration, and the bulk of the national press, is frightening. I honestly think we are at the very precipice of the next world war. I don’t think it would take much to spark it off right now. And yet domestically, we spend our time arguing if drag queen stripper shows are appropriate for six year olds and if highway bridges are racist.

It’s long overdue we had some serious people in charge. It was all fun and games mocking the bad orange man for mean tweets, but now we need something more than an old dementia patient eating ice cream, and pretending to be in charge (and no, it’s not the orange man again). Weekend At Bernie’s at least had lighthearted hijinks as a plot. I’m not sure the current crop of puppeteers behind the scenes realizes (or care) what a cornered bear is capable of.

Hard times create strong men
Strong men create good times
Good times create weak men
Weak men create hard times

Government, woke

Did He Just Say That?

Something just happened that has left me literally shaking. I… I, I’m going to try and pull myself together so I can share this outrage. There’s this football guy, Troy Aikman who I’m told was a pretty good quarterback at one time, who’s now a TV broadcaster. Well, I guess football has gotten really mean and unsafe lately, so the referees have been over-reacting and calling “roughing” penalties that are a bit controversial. After one such call, Aikman said this: “My hope is the competition committee looks at this in the next set of meetings and, you know, we take the dresses off”.

I am offended to my core. To insult women like that is so… so… I don’t even know. Let me compose myself. <deep calming sigh> Rightly, there was an immediate outcry and Aikman issued a statement apologizing for making a “dumb remark”. Sorry, not good enough. He needs to be cancelled. These dinosaurs, these symbols of the old, white, patriarchy must be destroyed. We cannot let misogynists like this remain in positions of influence.

[End Sarcasm] This is now us as a society. Perpetual outrage mode. Thousands of soy-boys and flotillas of Karens, all just waiting to pounce on whatever they perceive as the latest offensive comment or action. And their intention is never to just point out the offense and offer education – no, they want to cancel and destroy the offender. They want society to live in fear of wrongspeak.

And they’re wining. Look at Troy Aikman. Rather than simply laughing at it and telling these folks to go pound sand and return to their weird Disney cosplay conventions and video games, he caved. He gave in to the mob and apologized rather than risk being cancelled.

That is not a good place for a society to be in. The world economy is cratering. Government spending, overreach, and oppression is expanding at a frightening rate. The lunatic left is doing everything possible to foment racial wedges in every aspect of life. Right now, if you don’t bend the knee to the official narrative you’re either a racist, a Russian apologist, or eagerly awaiting a Gilead-style Handmaidens Tale remake of the world. Probably all three.

Because of cancel culture, who’s going to be brave enough to say no to these lunatics? If you dare say that men should not be competing in women’s sports, some Antifa, nose ring wearing thug will appear with spittle flying out of their mouth and shriek “racist!!!” at you. You’ll be removed from social media and risk losing your job. Because, after all, you did take the mandatory diversity, equity, and inclusion training, so you were aware of the corporate policy against hate and misgendering someone.

I honestly don’t know where we go from here. A self-reflective analysis might be appropriate:

  • Do you have a Ukraine flag in your profile? (and you’re not Ukrainian)
  • Did you post a black square on Instagram and/or post any BLM propaganda?
  • Did you read the previous item and think, OMG that’s so racist?
  • Did you ever lecture/shame people on social media for not getting the vaccine?
  • Did you ever look at people with disdain who weren’t wearing masks?
  • Do you still wear a mask? Alone, in your car?
  • Do you list your pronouns in your bio?
  • Is your main source of news CNN and The View?
  • Do you refer to Jan 6th as an insurrection? Do you eagerly await news that Trump has been arrested?
  • Do you drive an electric vehicle because you care about the environment?
  • Does the term “illegal alien” horrify you?
  • Do you order your coffee at Starbucks with more than two ingredients?

If you answered yes to any of the above… I hate to break it to ‘ya cupcake – but YOU are the problem. Your faux tolerance and empathy are destroying this country. I could care less if you think there are 27 genders and why wouldn’t we keep giving money to Ukraine? More power to you. Just realize there are people who have opinions that are different than you. Trying to cancel people because they don’t think like you is dangerous and wrong.

We keep down this road and The Ministry of Truth will eventually govern everything. The crime of wrongspeak is serious business kids. Go to wrongspeak/us.gov to report family members and neighbors who you suspect are committing these heinous crimes. Your government thanks you for your cooperation.

Solving the wrong problem, woke

Be Proud, Say It Out Loud

A thought struck me the other day while I was driving. Thoughts don’t happen that often, and usually disappear in a few hours, but this one stuck with me. As the miles rolled by, I was listening to some talking heads argue back and forth about the cause of increased gasoline costs. One of the pundits was trying to say that none of this was Biden’s fault, bla, bla, bla. It suddenly hit me – why aren’t these folks shouting from the rooftops that increased fuel costs are a good thing?

I’m serious. The stated goal of environmentalists and the high priests of climate change is to raise fuel costs to bring about reduced consumption. Time and time again the thought leaders in the climate change movement have said raising prices to Europe (or higher) levels is the only way to “break” America’s addiction to oil.

So, you either believe the president when he says climate change is an existential threat or you don’t. If you’re a more left leaning supporter of the current administration and climate change, then say it out loud. High gas prices are a good thing. Prices should be higher. Be proud of your belief and stand behind it. Don’t be coy about it. Say it. I’m happy prices are high, and I think we should raise the fuel taxes and regulations to drive it to $8-10 dollars a gallon.

Because if you’re not willing to publicly voice one of the tenets of your religion, you’re a coward. politicians won’t speak it out loud because they know high fuel prices causes actual pain for their constituents – and getting re-elected is far more important than campaign rhetoric. Causing too much pain for the serfs tends to lead to angry mobs. Can’t have that.

But you’re not a politician. You have nothing to lose. So, if you’re someone who’s ever espoused climate change/global warming/extreme weather on the socials or at cocktail parties… it’s time to put up or shut up. Go post something on Facebook right now declaring that high gas prices are a good thing and should be higher. Make that claim the next time you’re sitting around with friends. State it at work in meetings and in the breakroom.

Climate change either is an immediate threat to the planet, or it’s not. It can’t be an immediate, existential threat that requires action and change NOW… as long as it doesn’t cost me too much to drive to Disneyworld this summer or make my groceries too expensive. You can’t have both.

It’s time to be proud and stand up for what you believe in. Say it out loud. Otherwise, you’re a hypocrite and a coward.

Daily Life, Motivation

I Fixed It

Remember that scene in Cast Away when Tom Hanks’ character manages to create fire? The absolute joy and dancing around as he proudly looks at what he created? Well, I did that yesterday. I created fire – both literally and figuratively. I fixed my barbeque.

Backstory. 20+ years ago we bought a multi-thousand-dollar grill. I loved that grill. It’s safe to say that we cooked 90% of our meals on the grill. But over time parts started failing. The outside of the grill still looked brand-new, but the interior not so much. Now to my shame, I should have been keeping up with maintenance on it. I’m really bad at that. Regular tear-downs and deep cleaning, replacing burners, etc… But I didn’t. So one by one the burners started failing and eventually it stopped working altogether.

I really didn’t want to go out and spend gobs of money on an equivalent grill. Besides, as I said previously, it really does look brand-new from the outside. So, I announced to the world that I was going to fix it. And a month went by. And then another. And another. Then winter came and who wants to fix things in the snow? Mrs Troutdog finally got annoyed and went out and bought a small little grill so we could at least continue grilling. But I never really “clicked” with that grill. I constantly burned stuff and it was too small to cook multiple things at a time. Much to Mrs Troutdog’s annoyance, I complained constantly about it.

Every time I walked into the backyard, the big grill sat there mocking me. A constant reminder of a project on my to-do list that never went away. Every night I cooked on the small grill, the unfinished project gnawed away at me.

I don’t know what finally sparked it, but I finally got fed up enough to start the project. It took the better part of a day to get the thing completely torn apart and cleaned. I made an inventory of every new part that had to be ordered. Then came the challenge. The main bracket that held up the burners and gas tubes had completely burned and rusted away. Unfortunately, the grill is old enough that nobody sells that replacement part. Now what?

I managed to find someone who could manufacture that part for me. I sent dimensions and drawings. What I got back was close, but not exactly what I needed. So, I dredged up my ancient high school machine shop knowledge and set to work making the parts I needed. It took about a day of drilling, bending, cutting, and pounding, but I finally had a working part.

It was another day of assembly, multiple trips the hardware store, cursing over missing (or extra) bolts and fasteners, but finally it was back together. I turned the knobs, pushed the ignitor and… voila! FIRE! I MADE FIRE!! It worked. Back to nearly new condition. I grilled a steak that night and it’s hard to describe how pleased I was with myself. I redeemed my manhood. Alpha male.

My point of this long rambling story is not that you need to learn how to fix things. What is important is that you accomplish things. It doesn’t matter if it’s figuring out how to create a complicated Excell macro, or paint a room, or run your first half marathon. The point is figuring out something you haven’t done before, going through the pain of learning, and then finally accomplishing your goal. It’s an amazing positive jolt to your self-confidence. If you can do that thing, what else can you accomplish? Those endorphins to the brain fuel the drive to continue moving forward.

So, this weekend resolve to learn something new, find a project that’s just a bit outside your comfort zone, or go do something you’ve never done before. When you’re done, I guarantee you’ll thank me.

Health

It’s All About The Butt, Baby

I just got back from the gym. Spent a bunch of time with the strength coach trying to figure out how to fix my back issue. After a lot of pain, tests, and movement analysis the verdict is in. My problem is that I don’t have a butt. None. Zero. My legs just end at my hips.

More specifically, a major part of my problem is that I never engage my glutes when moving. Like, at all. Rotation, lifting, bending, walking, running… my back is doing all the work. And because I have a weak core, it was only a matter of time before something gave out. This also explains why I can’t dance.

The good news is that it’s fixable (maybe not the dancing). The bad news is that it’s going to hurt and it’s not going to suddenly get better overnight. Why-oh-why didn’t I figure this out thirty years ago?

Back in the stone age when I was in high school, there should have been an “adulthood 101” class. The value of compound interest. Investing. Changing a tire. What to make for dinner for the next 50 years. The importance of an actual, daily, fitness regime. Instead, we learned the quadratic equation on the off chance we might someday work with gravitational physics. Oh, and dodgeball.

So here we are. An aging adult who now has to learn how to engage a major muscle group and build up some significant strength – or face daily pain and physical limitations for the next twenty years. Yeah, that’s not intimidating at all.

I was watching show last night that described the decline in physical fitness in the US since the ’60s. The difference in where we are today vs back then is shocking. How in the world did we let that happen as a society? It’s really criminal. The scary part? I don’t think it’s reversible. Excluding some sort of apocalyptic survival of the fittest event… you’re not going to convince 300 million people to suddenly get off the couch every day. Back then President JFK actually said, “…there is nothing “more unfortunate than to have soft, chubby, fat-looking children.” Today, any politician that dared to suggest such a thing for our schoolkids would be instantly shouted down and cancelled. It’s discriminatory. We don’t have the funding. It shames kids who aren’t athletic. It’s racist. We can’t hurt their self-esteem. Besides, it’s really hard to have a proper PE class over Zoom.

I’m now faced with a hard decision. I either find a way to push through pain, change my daily routine, and learn a new athletic skill at my age… or I move to the couch, seek out a Norco or Oxy prescription, and accept that my ability to ski, play golf, ride the mountain bike, run, and hike is fading.

I don’t like either choice. I want to go back to the days when I could just do stuff and not worry about injury or pain. I don’t like strength training, never have. I get zero enjoyment from going to the gym. But I don’t like pills and I don’t want to give up my activities. It’s a quandry.

I’m not a quitter. Hopefully, this is the catalyst to make those necessary health changes I’ve been meaning to get around to. Because as a very wise man once said, “I do mind, the Dude minds. This will not stand, ya know, this aggression will not stand, man.”

The Dude abides. Now excuse me, I’m headed to the gym.

Health

The Beatings Will Continue…

The beatings will continue until moral improves

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Ok now I’m really mad. No, not mad – pissed. And frustrated. And depressed. And defeated. And I don’t know what to do.

No, this is not a cry for help or any bullshit drama like that so don’t get your panties all in a bunch. I hurt my back – again. Actually, it’s more than that. I think I’ve hit my physical low point. I’ve clearly got some sort of chronic back issue now. I have some new stomach issues that I’ll spare you the details of. And I’m fat. There’s no point in tip toeing around it – there’s way too much jiggle wiggle when I walk. We’re rapidly approaching sports bra territory (don’t be offended, I’m not misgendering anyone with 13 pronouns in their bio – it’s simply beer and nacho man-boobs) All in all, I just don’t feel good. Haven’t for a while.

I don’t understand how this happened. Well, I do – bad diet, too many calories, inactivity, poor posture, zero mobility training, and lack of strength training. Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, everything is great! The part I don’t understand is why I can’t snap out of it. Why can’t my brain finally say, “ok you’ve had some fun, now it’s time to get back to work”?

This is approximately the 1,023 time I’ve thrown down the gauntlet and declared, now I’m really serious. Like the old saying about smoking – Quitting smoking is easy. I’ve done it hundreds of times. The irony is that every one of my most liked posts on this blog are related to resolutions and health. I’m going Keto! I’m exercising! Look at my new diet! I did a sit-up! The problem is that my follow up on all those resolutions lasts about three days. It often pains me to think about this blog. For reasons I don’t understand, almost all my followers are health and fitness related folks. And I am not healthy or fit. When someone likes a health-related post or HealthyFitMotivations1443 starts following me, it’s a painful reminder that I’m not actually doing what I write about.

I’m angry at myself and concerned. I’m worried about my ability to reverse this trend. If I feel like this now, what am I going to feel like in 10 years? That scares me. I don’t know what to do about it. Well, I do know what I need to do… I just don’t know how to keep doing it.

At the end of the day, what I need is motivation, routine, and habit. How do I get my ass to walk into my garage gym every damn morning and do the work I need to be doing? It needs to become a non-negotiable part of my daily life. I don’t know how to make that happen.

If anyone has any magic secrets to building motivation and discipline, can you help a brother out? Otherwise, I may have to resort to posting shame pictures of me in a speedo all over the house as a reminder to go to the gym and to stop me from opening the fridge (again). And nobody wants that. An image you can’t unsee.

Hmmm, I think I just found my next business venture. A service you sign up for in which I call you twice a day and demand proof you worked out and ate well. Otherwise, I’ll berate you mercilessly and yell at you that you’re worthless and weak. The next day you’ll get three calls and ten nagging text messages. The abuse will continue until discipline improves.

That could work. I’d sign up for it. Meanwhile, I need to walk down to the gym. Wish me luck.