Today is Not Tomorrow

Its easy to lower your head.  To say, another day.

I'm guilty of stepping too soon under an already defeated day and wishing myself victory.  In the limelight, under my breath, justifying.  And then later, in reflection, believing the justifications.  Later still, I realize its all bullshit.

There is no tomorrow.

Drag your eyelids open.  Focus.  Surrender to the process, and get to work.  The bar will bite you, the pains will come sooner than you thought, they will last longer than you can believe, and, over time, the process will beat you to your knees.  Accept it.

Do not be sidetracked by glory.  Do not be swindled by success.  Do not let the weight of your wishes employ its tactics of stopping you early.

Push on.  Take another step forward.  Lean into the punch.

What you save for tomorrow will only last as long as you can make tomorrow into today.

Save not, today is not tomorrow, and never will be.

The comfort of the uncomfortable.

I'm certain that the night it was 50 below zero my water pump decided to have some water in it and freeze.  Fuck me.

The next day I drove to work and it decided to self-destruct in the process, silently.

That night, in-bound to massive gorging on endless chicken wings, I blew coolant all over the belt line as my engine shutoff and I simultaneously lost power steering.

Fuck me twice.

Now I owe moneys to the car-fixy-folks.

And all I can think is "Fuck this shit, I'm going to squat."

The heavy bar.

Oh, how you make it better.  An unwavering crystal reflection of how much suck I have left in me to give.

You require only everything I have, and on occasion, more.

How serene the world is at the bottom of our journey.  There are no cars.  There is no Winter.  There is only the infinite up, and the identity-changing-transformation from the guppy who it was that descended, to the wood-carved veteran of the having-been-there-school.

You afford me the justifications for more sleep.  For a well-deserved shower.  Massage.  Neck adjustments. Scapula adjustments.  Calf therapy.  Rehab for joints. Bandaids, neosporin, and hand cream. Fish oil.  20 oz Prime Rib.  Constantly grilling rib eyes.  The slow cooker always full.  Bacon.  Bacon Grease.  Butter.  Heavy Cream.  Protein powder, bro.

Even at 50 below zero, you melt the world away.

Details matter, but don't sweat the small stuff

Clothes and shoes are irrelevant when we're talking about this culture. So are hair styles, skin color, and ethnicity. This runs deeper than that. This sparks within those few who feel compelled to awaken each day directed with purpose. Those who seek the scent of challenge and grin at adversity.

Those who commit.

Unwaveringly accepting of what it means to train. As the toll will be paid with hard work, and the road paved with pain, blood, and strict consistency.

Those who follow through eventually realize that you don't quite reach the destination, rather, you just keep cresting a peak, satisfied momentarily, only to slowly focus on another summit, far off, through more uncharted territory.

Understanding the journey with all of its lessons on how to take your time, how to adapt to circumstance, and where weakness shows through.

It takes a lifetime.

Indifferent and bullish they will seek, headlong, the path which drives them forward.

Whichever way that may be.

And it goes on like this, for years.

Have Some Standards, For Krist Sake

Not giving a fuck about what other people are doing takes brass balls.  Its scary because you get no feedback from a smiling-sadistically coach or partner.  It's all you.  And yet, that is how some of the best are forged.  It forces you to decide for yourself what you think counts, and what does not.  All of sudden, you are the executive decision maker.  Judge, jury and below-parallel-perfect-high-bar-back-squat executioner.

These people exist.  As a matter of fact, they are dominating across gyms, competitions, and as first-responder types across the globe.  Those who look at standards and ask themselves if that standard really applies to them.  Like pull-ups.  Do I reach my chin for the bar at the top of the pull-up?  Do I kip?  What would most likely cause me to crash and burn in the real world?

It's interesting to me how we view ourselves in the safety of a gym/box/ranch/back-alley-squeezed between-two-dumpsters setting versus in nature where laws are unbreakable.  If a workout calls for strict pull-ups, and the first thing you do is grab a big fat band, or worse, bands, and after getting set-up begin to kip your ass up to the bar rather than attempting to actually do a pull-up as instructed how in Krist's name will you ever pull your same ass out of a real problem?  I've seen plenty of people who have been "working out" for a period of time still unable to perform even the slightest strict pull.

Let me clue in those same people to how pull-ups work in the real world.  Lets say you decide to go scramble over some bad-ass talus field at a local state park.  After your scramble bro-sesh, a few hours into your day, you park it on a ledge to grub out.  As you chew your food you become parched and in a haste to reach your water bottle your backpack nudges dumbly off the ledge... and lands 10' down in a crack nestled 90 feet above the ground. There is just enough room to go down and stand so you decide to try and go get it.  After all, your frakking wallet was in there.  So carefully you reverse your ass down the wall, thinking that you can climb back up, as the holds look to resemble giant potatoes.

Here's the thing about climbing holds on a wall: there is no way to kip.  The kip is a specific gymnastic movement for gymnasts.  Unless you are experienced in climbing, and know how to use your feet (a la rope climbs) you will be forced to pull your bodyweight up, and most times its off of a single arm.  So as you stand at the bottom of a 10' ledge looking up with a dumb slack-jawed open mouth, you realize you're fucked, and begin to wonder why in the last year worth of opportunities you were granted to train you didn't once try to at least do a few strict pull-ups.

This is a single example, grossly vague regarding the circumstances, and yet I hope you take away one thing.  Make your training mean something to you.  Know what you will accept.  Know why it is important that you accept nothing less from yourself than the standard calls for.  Only then will know what a real effort is and how to get your body to give it.  You will never rise to the occasion, you will however, default to your level of training.  Don't let your default be bullshit.  Make your default the toughest, most mind-warping, will-powered, everything you got standard.  Trust me, things will start to look a lot easier in the real world.

If you were to train in a dark room, with no one watching, and no one ever knew you were there  - what standard would you apply to yourself?

Darkness within Darkness

No man is an island, entire of itself. Every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea...or of thine own were. Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls it tolls for thee. ~John Donne

Like an accelerating jet, and the wheels just picked up off the runway.  Thrust back against the seat.  Clenching the armrest as if to hold onto the last piece of earth as it sails away.

Up in the air, thoughts no longer count, it's down to hope and fear.

Pausing to grasp the situation we suddenly realize who we love.
What certain people mean to us.
Who we are.

Nodding off... dreaming starts.  Goals set.  Plans made.  Fists pounded.  Lucidity minus nuance.

An aggressive jolt immediately welcomes reality.  All accounts took place where no one took witness.

What outcome now prevails depends on how often the voice of survival wins.

Moving forward requires action.  And discipline.

If you only make plans to prepare for the reaper when he is in sight he will greet you sooner than you are ready.

So do your training - however you can - to achieve your goals.  Fill your life with meaning.

Be what you can as best as you can as fast as you can.

Spend time remembering stoicly, to the point of possible pants-pissing, why you're so paranoid of any thing that can expose your weakness's.

And when time is made to act, seize with every ounce of opportunity it affords.

December 2009, Waunakee, WI
Smile for the camera

MIA 2012

I've been training all year.  I've got scars to prove it.  Numbers this year are bigger than last; everything is still moving in the direction planned.  Still focused.  Coffee and squats daily.  Sometimes more.  

The days are coming faster and faster.  And I seem to catch the sun at the same point on the horizon each night, although the time it happens keeps changing, quickly.  The nights occupy more than I'd like them to.

Constantly reminded that there is no time to remain stagnant.  Forcing some growth - personally, professionally, spiritually, physically - must happen now.  Change is coming.

I've been away from blogging as setting up the framework for our rapidly expanding community has been an all-consuming task to say the least.  Fear not, the coffee never gets a chance to get cold. 

As it turns out, my best friend Mike has gone and joined Uncle Sam in the quest to defend our Country.  I am proud of him.  He is a man who takes great care to which actions he takes, and this one, the greatest to date.   

He and I have been C&Sing since the beginning, and to continue on without him here will be a great challenge.  I will miss most his quiet creativity, and unyielding energy.  And although I am feeling a bit as though a sinkhole is under me and that there is no time to get to safety, I know he will be fulfilled as this is his dream, and with that he has my utmost respect and support.  

I wish him the very best, as I know he will emerge as a leader and courageous warrior where ever it is he ends up.   

I would hate to be hunted by him, that's for sure.  

Where it all began in the driveway.

Brains, Then Brawn

So you're competing, at least, you should be.

Welcome to real life - no one makes it out alive, so why stay on the current plateau?

Everyone falls, but a select, dedicated few reach heights that, when they do fall, let them fall to a greater degree.  Ask more of your body every day.

Hell, you don't need to be in an actual competition to compete, you should be going against yester-you every single day.   The effort from last week is what drives you further today.  We acquire the strength it takes to overcome obstacles.  More obstacles, more strength.  Competition just puts it on a stage.

So when it comes to testing mettle amongst others, the one who has sought the most obstacles, who has bled the most, cried the loudest, and dug holes deep enough light doesn't hit bottom, and then keeps digging - they are the ones who usually find themselves crossing the finish line with no one in front of them.

You can be a bad ass, but a smart bad-ass will go further.  The one reason that makes this so: they seek out the untried.  They will the way.

All of this should be on the road to competition, because upon arrival you have to make some strategy decisions.  Here's the rambling's of someone who wants you to succeed at your next competition adventure.

Know your objective.  If you aren't interested in winning (WTF?!) then you better be ready to lose.  Your all-comsuming goal is to win.  Blow the ever-loving doors off.  Rip the souls from the competition's chest and use them as fuel on your way to a massacre of a victory.   This feeling can be replicated with the purchase of a large Americano quad-shot.

Attitude.  This must align with your goal.  To be a winner, you must think like a winner.  "I am a winner.  I will win."  This will prepare you for the pain, at least, when it hits you will know why it hurts so fucking bad.  It hurts to play at the highest levels.  That's why so few choose to do so.

See the future.  What's coming and how do I respond to it? - would be a great question to outline for yourself as you prepare to do battle.  Knowing your strength's and weaknesses will allow you push yourself on a personal forte and hit it the best you are able on your not-so-hot abilities.

Remove distractions.  Listen up, we've all destroyed our hands, arms, legs, you-name-its with workouts before.  Is a shitty piece of tape really going to give you a leg up on the others as you do pull-ups so you don't hurt your wee little hands?  Fuck that shit.  Go in raw, come out bleeding and laughing at how awesome it was to have blood as chalk.. you do know blood gets sticky right?  Fuck yeah, natural chalk.

Stick with your plan (as long as possible).  I know, your plan goes to shit almost immediately in comp time, but having a plan allows you have something to go back to mentally when everything else dissolves.  If you are planning on doing a set of 30 burpee's as two sets of 15, and by the time you get to 10 your eyes are bleeding, you can then tell yourself, "Hey, I've only got 5 more until I can wipe the blood from my vision!"  And now you have a motivating goal.

Be a pro, go for quality.  Stepping up to a heavy bar for deadlifts after a chipper of other brutal movements might make you think, "Back, you're fucked."  And as you round out your back to pick up heavy shit you automatically destroy 10x the amount of tissue you needed to.  Be a rockstar and take the fraction of a second to remember how you set-up for the lift.  Then do it.  This should be a given if you are truly thinking like a winner.  The athletes that do the most work the fastest usually have the best mechanics.  Stick with that.


Get your rest.  The advantage so many forget is simple stuff.  Lots of sleep, lots of water, clean food, and getting your body mechanically aligned.



Go forth, and conquer.