the IDIOT

anyone can go to the gym. for most people, going there and slacking is better than nothing. years ago i overheard good advice from a stranger. he’d just arrived at the gym, looking stalled. greeted by a friend, he replied that he probably wasn’t going to work out that evening. he explained that his practice was that he must at least show up with his gear. most of the time it was enough to get him going, but that night he was turning straight back around. he was right; getting in the door is most of the battle, and if you confine your struggle to simply arriving, you’ll usually slide into the workout comfortably when that’s done. then come the sliding scales of form and intensity.

form i can usually straighten out enough simply by remembering to. for intensity i have a cheap cheat drug — one that apparently works for adam carolla as well. (more…)

the new group i’ve been riding with includes one of those rare animals — a hot young girl who doesn’t act like she’s hot. i’m the poster child for loser geeks, and this sweetie talks to me just like anybody else. fairly disconcerting. tonight i showed up late at this bar/restaurant after a ride, and she goes and gets me a chair.

so the first time i met her, we talked after the ride and i went to put my bike in the car. was getting ready to drive off when some helpful dude walking by signaled me that my wheels were still leaning against the outside of my car. doh! (more…)

with my slow return to physical fitness — using boxing, weights, and stationary cycling — i plan to ride wednesday (thunderstorms permitting) in an informal cycling road race, for the first time since 2002. i already know i’ll be crushed, but the point is to see those wheels up in front of me again, and let that energy kick. i’m never alive like i am planning, successfully or not, to destroy whatever wheel happens to be in sight. that feeling returns just thinking about this ride, though i’m not in racing form yet. if you’ve never raced, you probably think i’m talking bullshit. nope. (more…)

i don’t support ron paul, but what a welcome shock he’s been to the MSM. the masks have been dropped in all media quarters, with those manipulative jackasses foaming at the mouth because they’ve — OMG — been overruled by the DIY class and a wonderful gizmo called the internets. watched plenty of YouTube vids of the debate fallout, and these fuckers are borderline nutcase-frenzified trying to “explain” that paul’s success in debate polls (despite their painfully obvious, often stilted blackouts) comes from inflated and falsified internet tricksters. there just has to be a reason other than the MSM losing its power to fuck with and create agendas! (more…)

as a new boxing poser i underestimated what can be learned by using a speed bag. having long seen clips of boxers using it well, it was a shock to try it the first time.

the speed bag mocks the beginner. to keep the rhythm requires speed, strike accuracy, hands aloft, and sharp eyes. a slightly off-center punch spins the bag on its swivel mount, and you’ve launched a silly top instead of a rebounding target. as i’ve gotten slightly better (still a rank newbie), i’ve learned somewhat how to get a spinning bag back in the groove, but more often i give up, settle it down, then start again. (more…)

looks like i’ve settled into an acceptable arrangement for my boxing instruction. took a class today that, happily, wasn’t the retarded apoplexy served up by the jerkoff goifs at LA boxing. classes aren’t as good as private instruction, but this’ll work just fine, considering the personalities of the class and the instructors. (more…)

i ditched my boxing instructor after two lessons, for reasons unrelated to his instruction abilities (was helping him with some web stuff, and his narcissistic ADD problems reminded me too much of modern teenagers). the same day, i scheduled a trial lesson at LA Boxing, a new chain in the DC area. what a joke, these spazz assholes. bleh!

first, a general announcement to all stupid fucks out there in the fitness industry: turn down the goddamned music, gangsta bumpkins. you think everybody walking through the door digs your music? the loudest music i’ve heard in a gym was from the LA boxing fools. they actually cranked “eye of the tiger” and similarly gag-inducing material as if it was cool stuff. all the way through this joke of a class — where there wasn’t even the slightest attempt at boxing instruction, but rather a laughable, sloppy mix of hyped up boxer posing and mimicry — the “teacher” is yelling and you can barely hear a word. fucking dumbass. he’s shouting so hard he’s running out of breath, and you still can’t hear. then he walks back and turns the music up even louder, like he’s a DJ instead of a boxing instructor. i wanted to walk out 20 minutes in, but felt it was important to stay and make sure i didn’t miss an offsetting finish. nah, it just got worse. (more…)

it was today during my second day of boxing training that i finally understood why fighters clinch in apparent exhaustion and don’t fight, even when it seems a single flurry would take out the opponent. as a less than informed boxing viewer, i confess that i always found clinching mildly disgusting. why don’t they fight, pussy charley wondered. spinning circles around a heavy bag, punching as hard as i could for three minutes, the question was answered. (more…)

began boxing lessons this afternoon. love it, even though my coach and his friend have nicknamed me “danger”. guess being a skinny, loudmouthed fuck made it inevitable. unlike the character danger though, from this film that i like no matter what you say, i will be sparring eventually. it was my goal when i approached the coach yesterday.

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