This Past Week

The only workout I got in was Shoulders and Biceps on Monday.

We are now heading into Friday.  (It’s Thursday 4:05am.)  And though I know I can’t have good weeks every single time, despite how much I desire.  I have to learn when it’s in my best interest to take a time-out and relax.  I do not wish to go beating myself up over and over and over again over a few missed workouts.  Life happens and this is where obtaining some sort of balance is required.

I can stand still nowadays and think back to all those fond and strenuous memories where I’ve pushed myself during times I shouldn’t have.  It’s either brought me bittersweet irritation from overtraining, a terrible sickness like a sinus infection or minor/major setbacks that would only fuck me to not progressing as smoothly as I would have liked.  However in this case, my monthly red friend comes to pay a visit.

Ms. Red Riding Hood!

There have been many months where I’ve push through my most vigorous workouts through my menstrual flow.  Mostly to prove to the inevitable negative self-talk wrong!  And of course, there are other reasons as follows:  To break through another barrier of my life, never allow my body to be too comfortable and gaining mental toughness through a better track record of performing my training sessions despite what I’m undergoing.

And this was one of those weeks as I had two great episodes of cramps from my monstrous period.  This is the time where my head feels heavy with mood, sludgy and muddy on my shoulders.  It feels like depression, something ancient as Reptilians.  This is the time where each of my breasts feel like 20lbs, where I feel like I’m openly carrying a full cart of luggage right in front of me for the money-celebrity folks.  This is the time where I bloat fatter than a frog, fatter than the hogs who are submitted to eating grains and grains til their eyes are about to pop.

The last thing I want to do is move.  The last thing I want to do is be conscious.  The last thing I want to do is eat.  The last thing I want to do is have fun.  The last thing I want to do is train.

Sometimes it’s just one of those weeks out of the month, out of the year.  And I’m not going to fight this every single month.  I’ve acknowledge this and I’m doing my best to control, forgive and handle the situation correctly.  Sometimes the best bet for me is to surrender.  I’ll look at the brighter side of things like extra recovery time, extra freshness my muscles will undertake when it’s time to get back in the gym and hit it all over again like a maniac.

And with this, I tell myself it’s okay.
Everything’s going to be okay.



I don’t believe in boredom
Even if I type the word out
On a screen
Yahoo Messenger
Instead I paint white lines
Like picket fences
On the tips of my squarish nails
I stare at a small cake of cheese
And think about those
Laughing Cows
And what has made them
Rage hysterically?

My mental state is fitting
Your eyes, aren’t deceive with this mess
Introvert books and Fit magazines
Some thoughts spread
Like the comforter on my bed
Pizza boxes stacked
As the thoughts of glutton
Masquerade in my head
If they only appear
Like footprints and social network views
You would understand
The difficulty of being awake



Always interesting how when someone has a principle they live by.  There’s seem to be the only one that matters.

What makes my acquaintance believe his principle is better than mine?


He would simply justify himself into believing that he is and his family are better than mine.  The reasons are many as follows the great luxuries of life like:  Money, Land, Travel, Support, Encouragement, Structure, Goals, A Childhood (to some degree) & An Eye For An Eye approach.  Since his Asian culture calls forth the magical land of perfected obligation to his parents from birth and being the Chinese Eldest is both detrimental and vital to his Asian existence and being his family have provided him thus far he feels he has something to justify himself to.

And this isn’t true in my book.  Especially when he claims to live by a  principle of “family comes first no matter” how deep the sacrifice goes down the rabbit hole.  No matter how you bleed your own self-worth out your fragile flesh system.

If family comes first – this is the principle – then it doesn’t matter how little they’ve given me since I was born.  It doesn’t matter how I raised myself all alone with the cynical wolves of the world.  I chose first and foremost, the length of time to give a fuck about those I grew up with, despite the deception and trickery of my own blood, as do many others around the globe.

But because my family has taken advantage of me endlessly and have chosen not  to give me anything in return, it’s in his right to get mad at them for me?  No.  No.  No.  I’m a grown woman.  I take care of myself.  I know my boundaries.  I’ve chosen to give up my family and let them slip away like the life of a close pet being fed the Death Serum through a syringe, slowly fading to white, gray, black.  Just so I can find some peacefulness.  And this is the decision I’ve made.

However, for anyone to shine upon feelings I do not wish to own at any given moment is an insult, a form of disrespect to the ancient dignity to my face and behind my stony back.   This is negativity to the fullest amendment and I’m not happy about this.  When it’s time for me to make a choice for my family (in this case) my brother, to make MY life easier for me and not as difficult as Clashing with the Titans of the past, well then,  I will do what’s right.

Whatever works to allow me to sleep at night.



Plays an important part in the Fit Life.

This includes all types of training, whether a swimmer, a marathon runner or weight-lifter. Instincts come in handy for every aspect of anybody’s life, but this is for a different post folks!  There have been uh many of times when my body, my mind and my spirit were telling me to slow the fuck down when it comes to the brink of overtraining or pushing against the injury rate I’ve already assembled.

And did I listen to most of those signals even when they were clear as a hard penis to my face?  No!  And did I slow down my ego when I knew that I would get caught in a nerve pinch performing a Rear Delt exercise?  No!  And when I fucked up my elbow, with pain shooting up the underside of my forearm, did I stop training?  NOPE!  My instincts were telling me I needed to lay off my arm for months.  Eventually I had no choice but to give my arms a rest for 4-6 months.  What discouragement!

A setback during this time was a complete understatement.

Many days, many months, I’ve trained through injury, believing if athletes were doing it and my favorite bodybuilder role-model was doing it, well, it was okay for me to do it too.  Nope!  Uh-uh!  What kind of thinking was this?  The idiot kind probably?  I don’t own conditioning and rehabilitate coaches like the superstar million dollars of the world.  No one pays me to be on the television or to be on billboards.  I’m not on a cover of a magazine or bending over backwards in order to continue to keep my sponsors.

I had to admit to myself:  I’m not an athlete!  But I play one in my head.

A new instinct tells me…

I no longer need to perform endless sets to get to the definition I desire or the pump I live for.  For I have reach one of the ultimate levels that anyone with a Fit Life would hope, wish and desire to obtain.  I’ am officially official with the great mind/body connection I’ve been striving and focusing on for years.  I’m officially official with going mind deep into my fibers.  And boy how hard they contract!  Hours later, days later, the intense tightness feeling, the ball of dense muscle comes to fulfill my being with how much they work together, compact.  I can make any light weight feel heavy and this is without trying and without intensity.

And only someone true to how I’ am with this Lifestyle understands my happiness.  Oh the roads we go down.  Negative to Positive.


Burst A Bubble: It’s All In The Acting!

Ever been with a woman, who of course, was appealing to your eyes, her skin smooth as satin, her lips smooth as nothing you ever felt, her voice intoxicating as if  the word sex took on it’s own meaning and created a voice ever so true, her hands succulent because they’re gliding on all the naughty parts of which you deliver..

You’re wondering why, “Oh My God this feels INCREDIBLE” and “I’ve never felt this way before the way my sperm shoots like rockets onto the space of the enchanted bed board” and “Oh my I would marry this lady if only she allowed me to.”  So you penetrate her like you were churning the last butter of the world for the millions starving with crystal flooding eyes.  You eat her body like a succubus eats the men of pounding flesh.

And well, none of you men realize what the fuck is happening?

And this is why you have a Real Woman like me Pennington that’s at your service to bring you the truth about shit.  To burst your fantasies, to burst your disillusioned thinking.  Besides the obvious of what’s actually happening like “Wow this is the first time I’ve ever had sex” and “Oh this is the first time I’ve slept with a really hot and amazing bodied lady” and “Finally this is the alcohol everyone was talking about that allowed this chick to slip her panties off!”

Something any man can look over, since most men look themselves over to begin with is..

We women know what men want.  Not because we’re born with a built-in system to understand how simple, or bet yet, how brainless most of them are to begin with.  But because there’s PORN everywhere.  Soft porn on a teenager’s show like Gossip Girl.  Cable porn where the gals are constantly dancing, whipping their hair like they have lice and biting their lips as if they’re hungry for real food!  Not to mention hardcore porn.  Seems like everyone is into abusing the opposite sex nowadays.

But if there’s one thing I picked up off every single porn I find on Billboards in Times Square and on advertisements in the Train Stations.. it’s that I should be taking lessons from the whores who play whores.  They are whores because they act out men’s fantasies.  And what better way then to take lessons from a man who pays and directs them to act in such a poisonous way.

The best sex you’re having with that hot female is all a fucking act!

I know this for a fact because ONE this is what they do in all porn, movies, sitcoms and the like.  And TWO whenever I tested this phenomenon for example:  Throwing my back into the most arch-raising performance it seems my partner is in a frenzy, completely believing I’m absolutely addicted to his touch.  The times when I moan extra or louder, or in a teenage squeak he pumps better then if I moaned under wraps.

Everything is about creating sex as exaggerated as fucking possible.
This will guarantee you a better sex life instantly.


Fairly Obvious

How you think you know something only to realize you don’t know diddly squat!

You think you have written down every formula, every detail throughout the day, every workout regimen tried and true, every food you digested goes into a journal, every calorie accounted for, every measurement taken with precision, every lb you lost documented weekly.

It’s enough to drive you insane!

Once again I’ve been defeated in believing that Science (when it comes to the body) is certain on the claims it cares to express to the world.  And it is not so.  Under care of a certified nutritionist, under the spotlight of theoretical textbooks, I’ve been sentenced to failure.

Rather then soaking up all the anguish I feel.  I will focus on a new beginning.  I will hold my head high and once again adopt new perspectives.  I will follow up quickly, if and when, a new plateau enters in my path.  I will fight, strike and concern myself with my standstill Fit Lifestyle as if it were a matter of life and death.

This is my outlet.  This is my structure.  This is my religion.  This is my passion.  This is my responsibility.  This is my love.  And I won’t give up.  I’ve come too far to throw away all the rewards, efforts, pain, strain, injuries, muscle soreness, stomach growling, thinner waist, definition I have created.

So in comes a new plan.  But what?


I Know Myself

I know myself well enough to know what my boundaries are within a single moment in which I stand as a human, part flesh, part energy in Mother Nature’s grand land..

Sometimes one has to sacrifice themselves for a greater cause other than their physical being.  Other times like this weekend, one may have to sacrifice their patience, reserved energy and sanity for a friend, for money.

Working for 14 hours and being away from home for 16 hours isn’t a thing that occurs naturally.  Nor would I desire it to.  I, fortunately, don’t work in a field which requires this extreme amount of time out of my precious day.   All for personal reasons.  All because I Know Myself.  However working a double shift as a favor for my friend.  Getting extra cash to make sure I pay my part of the rent with my roommate doesn’t seem to be harmful, now does it?.

But it is for someone like me.

I’m a preferred loner.  A superstar devoted introvert.  An outcast from society’s standards.  A nonconformist with goodwill, good faith and tremendous beliefs.  I’m otherworldly, this I know.  And therefore I’m in a streak of anger because I’ve yet to recharge my energy back to the status that I own and work with at an optimal level well.

At the moment, the sun caresses my face and though it is seemingly beautiful, I find no beauty in it.  Tis’ the life of being an imperfect human.  Losing oneself in emotion.  Being consume quite easily by the dark hands that are always reaching out to cradle your every ounce of vulnerability.  My sanity turn to small bouts and tantrums of insanity and overshadow what happy thoughts I may create.

And this is me.


Phases Of Eating

Over the months, for a little more then half a year I’ve gone through so many different cycles with eating that I should win an award for “best nutrition-emotional-roller-coaster EVER.”

Now I knew the nutrition thing was going to be tough.  But I couldn’t imagine it being as tough as how I’ve been creating it for myself.  My phases have started from restricted calories, being perfect and never going over not by one number of my calories.  I’ve dipped below my calories quite a few times barely making it to 1500 or 1600 for 2 months.

I went through the phase of watching everything I was doing when eating and not eating.  I engage in this behavior for so long it was to the point where I wouldn’t bother going out to diners or restaurants with my closest people in my circle.

I went through the phase of only eating bars.  Substituting protein bars for every solid meal.  And what wind up happening during this phase is feeling weak, fatigue, running on auto-pilot, damaging my energy, continuing through my intense workouts with pounding headaches, close to passing out.  Once I dropped my wallet in Duane Reade while waiting on line and didn’t realize it until the cashier was kindly enough to point it out to me!  I remember that day clearly, I just finished going through another intense workout with no fuel and close to puking.  By the time I went to Duane Reade I was just zone out in a tiredness I’ve never felt in my life. And I guess, during this phase I realize that bars aren’t food and it doesn’t really assist me in much.

I finally reverted back to food.  But by this time I wasn’t having any cravings. I was only having 1 cheat day or cheat meal and it wasn’t enough, so I thought.  But I was paranoid and being Little Miss Perfect and I wouldn’t do anything to compromise losing half a lb or a full lb a week.

Deep down for me, all this was sweet torture.  I found that not having cravings is a horrible thing.  Cravings are normal.  And with food, people should have them.  They put you in balance.  They make you healthy.  So what happens when you have no cravings?

In my case, when I decided to throw out the restricted calorie diet for an entire month during the summertime (July), not only did I gain 4lbs I lost! But I kept binging on food.  I would stock up on eating like I was going to hibernate.  I wasn’t enjoying what I was eating by this time.  (I’m scared to enjoy food.)  I was only eating to eat.  And with no cravings, when do you know when it’s time to stop eating?  There is no greater force above you!  It’s all in your control.  All mine.

I’m going through another phase.  And this phase is not wanting to eat at all.  I still don’t have any have cravings.  But no food is appetizing to me at all. (There is one exception:  Magnolia Bakery.  Due to not having pastries, cakes and pies all my life.  So it’s interesting that I enjoy this.)  I don’t even enjoy my favorite fast food:  White Castle.  Not pizza.  Not pasta.  No tacos.  No rice and beans.  Absolutely nothing!  So why should I eat?  What’s the point?  I’m tired of eating anyways.  I feel like food and calories are all the enemy.  I have no idea how all of this have accumulated in the mere 8 months.

And to make matters worse, for me, I’ve plateau under a nutritionist watch for the past 4 months.  She failed me consistently.  She knew my intensity at which I worked but told me I needed 1700 calories a day.  Meanwhile one of my training sessions burns anywhere from 700-1300 during a 4-5 x a week regimen.

So yes, I”m frustrated and want to throw everything that involves nutrition out the window.  And besides all the balance, all the chemistry work in my body, the metabolism..I really find no point of eating anymore.

Sounds like I need some help…