Two Quarters, A Dime and A Nickel
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Hi… How are you, my frisky, bright-eyed companions? I feel great. Excuse me for a sec while I drop to the ground and knock out 50 pushups with Laree sitting on my back. Onesies, twosies…
Gotta be careful how I frame my words so as not to be misconstrued. Seems last week I said something to the effect I had lost a pound of bodyweight and a rumor quickly circulated I was major depressed and had barricaded myself in the woodshed behind the house. We don’t even have a woodshed.
Life is good. Rain is falling on the thirsty forest, there’s a fire is in the hearth and Laree’s curled up on the couch with a good book. Well, not exactly. It’s a slick, plastic iPad with a 1,500-book capacity and extensive computer features. Gimme a break. I’m snuggled nearby before the cozy keyboard and a warm can of tuna.
It’s newsletter time.
I’m torn between subjects -- there’s so much to write about, so much I want to say. Streams of raw material pour into my computer complex 24/7: cutting-edge training principles (train hard), breakthrough nutritional discoveries (eat right), swift muscle- and power-building techniques (discipline, patience and perseverance).
2010 has been a veritable bodybuilding-information bonanza.
I have live feeds of health and fitness seminars, exhibitions and demonstrations, and a variety of muscle-guy, muscle-babe reality presentations, including everyone’s fav, At Home with Bomb Guy and TP.
This week Bomb and TP were doing incline leg raises on their steeply slanted rooftop during a late-morning rainstorm when suddenly hail the size of donut holes joined the downpour. TP, while continuing to knock out reps on the icy roof, began to slide in the direction of the recently installed brass gutters. Without thought for himself or a moment to spare, Bomb Guy placed both his feet on TP’s ample shoulders and extended his bent legs with enough thrust to propel TP over the spiff, pricey and easily trashed brass gutters and into the mud below.
Whoosh! The splash was significant and the relief of averting a near-disaster was palpable. Bombs and T-per pressure-hosed each other down and retreated to their underground dungeon to continue wrestling the iron -- shoulder and back day. Makes you want to laugh and cry… a real story of action and daring, harmony and true love.
We’re not alone in our training devotion, bombers; there are you and me and us.
Needless to say, I don’t have the appetite, desire or need to eat as much as I did when I was blasting the iron and forging new muscle not so long ago (1776). My energy and musclebuilding requirements have conspired with my accumulating years and ironheaded abilities and passions, and determined it would be smart if I agreed with and settled for good health (ha), spiff muscle maintenance and the joy and fulfillment of sensible workouts.
Reality check. Rats. So much for 21-inch guns by 2011.
I eat the same foods and follow the same menu I did as a barbell-bender, only the quantity is less. The 50-25-25 protein-carbohydrate-fat balance is the same, the good sources are the same and the schedule of well-placed meals is similar; only the size of the creature has diminished to protect the innocent.
Let’s face it, kiddos: The less extra, extra bodyweight we have to support, the easier it is on our not-so-youthful systems. I persuade my body to work hard and earn its keep, but I don’t intend to make it my slave or workhorse. Don’t let that handy whip or the bucket of oats hanging around my neck fool ya.
Hold up there a minute, fella. Is that a trough of water and a pile of hay by the squat rack?
And so it goes with my workouts: no harshly modified training schemes, odd set- and rep-variations or new-age exercises. Just the same ole good stuff, thank you, with an agreeable mind and a rein on the volume. The intensity of force I apply is not exactly shabby, though I can’t say as much for the weight I use.
I start the day with three or four heaping tablespoons of protein powder downed with fresh-squeezed water. During this AM ritual I’m laying out my supplements (A trough Z and some minerals and EFAs and creatine) and making strong, yummy coffee. Eventually I sit at the computer and enjoy a cup with a chewy carb breakfast (bite of bran muffin or toasted granola bread, chocolate chip marshmallows… last one’s a joke, pretty much, har-har).
Once I see DaveWorld is under control, I make a protein shake with low-fat milk, banana and ice and a couple of virtuous eggs. This baby, since it’s made with Bomber Blend, is enough to send me to the moon, or at least get me to lunchtime, when and whereupon I break out the 6-ounce can of T-fish (davesalbacore.com), half a Bubbies pickled tomato, cool clear water and a smart plate of raw vegetables. Oh, boy. Rock on. We rock.
Mid afternoon is a good time for a range-fed-beef cheeseburger hot off the Foreman Grill, water, milk and either seasonal porcupine quills or a micro’ed medium red potato. I’m growing tall and lean as I eat. Baboom.
Wow, it’s evening already and time for cartoons. Now the chicken thighs and legs -- my favorite parts, other than the feathers, which I don’t eat -- come out o the oven and to my plate, along with less than an ounce of wild and crazy rice and a variety of beverages from water to milk. A salad in olive oil and balsamic vinegar sits next to the main course like a dessert fit for a total ironhead.
Thank you, God, for the food. Amen
A slight serving of fruit and yogurt is distributed somewhere, somehow and sometime throughout the day or later in the evening as the light grows dim. I’m not big on late night feeds -- gurgle, toss ’n turn… stuff of belly buttons and obliques, me thinks, are made of this. I’m anal that way.
Excuse me, waiter... the bill please… and can we have a box for the leftovers… thank you… Oh, and here ya go, lad, two quarters and a dime and a nickel… a tip for your good service… Yeah, they still make nickels and dimes… this little one is the dime and this fat guy is the nickel… I’m serious…
Go… get… Godspeed… Davio
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Did you know Bomber Blend will provide the least expensive and most nutritious meals in your daily eating regimen? It’s not an added extravagance to your food budget; it reduces your budget and improves your nutritional intake. It builds lean, strong and shapely muscle. Regular servings of Bomber Blend raise your IQ and enable you to time travel. Made into a poultice and smeared on the scalp will prevent baldness and kill tics. Good stuff.
Scoop the blend into a glass, stir and drink with pleasure and satisfaction, when you need to, want to or should. All the time.
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