Monthly Archives: July 2011

Splashes of Workout

There are some folks who would like to see (or who read with the sole purpose ->) of what exercises I’ve do/done, what reps, how many sets, how much weight, etc.  And though of course it’s always exciting to read what others do… it never really seems to be what a person may have thought?  Call it Expectation?  Call it over-analytical thinking?  Or perhaps ones eyes could bulge..and be surprised?   Well, I thought to just throw in some things I’ve done this year before I had to take major time off from my Upper Body.  This will mostly include my Machine/Dumbbell work/exercises.

Most of these workouts are done until I completely exhaust myself (because there’s no other way for me) and I wouldn’t tell anyone to go ahead and do multiple sets (or hit failure) unless their able to/want to or tend to use the same anger I have to fuel you/them all the way.  Not that I think these workouts are fantastic per say.  Just I know how easy it is to want to duplicate someone’s work because you admire them or something to that nature.  I’ve done this many times over the years myself.

Also, there are folks in the circle of my life who believe I do too much.  I don’t think.  I perform.  There are some people who can argue that there’s no such thing as overtraining and it’s a myth.  While others believe in the body of it all and perhaps giving the Central Nervous System a break.  Lord knows everyone’s favorite monster is lurking.  Cortisol, anyone?  To each their preference.

Sometimes these workouts connect.  Sometimes they don’t.  Sometimes I go in with the mindset to destroy myself and my body for the next few days.  Sometimes I work on weaknesses.  Sometimes I work according to my energy levels (since it does happen.. I may have not had the chance to eat as much as I should have) and mood levels.  Sometimes I work on things I want to bring up on like a deeper cut in my Calve/Soleus muscle.  However, I just want to make the point how no one should take my workouts literal in anyway. 😉


Lat-Pulldown (Narrow)
40lbs x15, 55lbs x12, 70lbs x12, 85lbs x12, 110lbs x8 reps
Seated Row (Close-Grip)
40lbs x12, 55lbs x 12, 70lbs x12, 85lbs x12, 100lbs x8 reps
Seated Row (Wide-Grip)
40lbs x12, 55lbs x12, 70lbs x12 reps
Cable Rope Rear Delt Rows
30lbs x12, 40lbs x12, 50lbs x12 reps
Straight-Arm Pulldowns with Rope
25lbs x12, 30lbs x12, 40lbs x12
One-Arm Dumbbell Row
22.5lbs x10, 25lbs x8, 30lbs x6, 35lbs x4 reps

Cardio 20 minutes
Abdominal 50 Butt-ups

My warm up was 5 minutes on the Elliptical.  And none of these exercises beat my personal best numbers since by this time my right arm, anterior part of the shoulder and the back part where the Teres Minor allowed me to only do so much.  I worked through the pain every single time.  I’m a naughty gal. Taking the high road, well, it could be applied to this as well.  Stop working through the fucking pain!  You get no rewards.  You get no-free-out-of-gym-injury cards.  Just physical therapy and loads of time off from what you’re trying to achieve.  Also I don’t like working my abs out.  It’s like sporadic when I do.  Trust me.


Bicep Curls (Not Alternating)
10lbs x 15, 12.5lbs x 12, 12.5lbs x12, 15lbs x12
Hammer Curls (Not Alternating)
Same as above
Incline Bicep Curls (Not Alternating)
10lbs x15, 12.5lbs x 15, 15lbs x12 reps
One-Arm Preacher (On Machine)
20lbs x15, 30lbs x12, 30lbs x12
Tricep Kickbacks With Dumbbell
10lbs x15, 12.5lbs x15, 15lbs x12, 17.5lbs reps x12
Rope Pushdown
30lbs x12, 40lbs x12, 50lbs x12, 60lbs x12
Tricep Short Bar Pushdown
40lbs x12, 50 x12, 60 x12, 70lbs x12 reps
Tricep Extension (On Machine)
30lbs x12, 40lbs x12, 50lbs x12 reps

I warm up with light ass weights, not with a cardio machine for this particular day.  But during this time just doing my biceps meant working through the pain.  As it made sense when the Physical Therapist told me I have Bicipital Tendonitis.  Where the long bicep head and the anterior part of the shoulder was hurting like a bitch.  So I kept the weight low but no rest in between and this created the lactic acid I desired.  The next day I felt tremendous and the DOMS was truly fucking to die for!  Sometimes I can’t believe what light weight can actually do.  I’m reminded once again:  It’s not about how much you lift.  But the intensity in which you do lift.  Again, no records here either.

Walking Lunges 100 reps
Smith-Machine Glute Squats (Feet Way Out in Front Back Super Straight)
75lbs x12, 85lbs x10, 95lbs x10, 110lbs x8
Leg Press (Narrow)
270lbs x10, 305lbs x10, 315lobsx10, 325lbsx10, 350lbs x10, 390lbs x8 reps
Seated Leg Curl
70lbs x10, 80lbs x10, 90lbs x 6 1/2, 95lbs x5 (New Record)
Leg Extensions
110lbs x10, 130lbs x10, 140lbs x8, 160lbs x5 reps
Single Leg Squat (On Leg Press Machine)
65lbs x10, 70lbs x10, 75lbs x10 (New Record)
Speed Squats 100 reps
Calve Raise (On Leg Press Machine)
120lbs x20, 130lbs x20, 140lbs x20
Soleus Extension
70lbs x20, 80lbs x20, 90lbs x20Cardio: 1 mile Light Jog Treadmill
Abs Crunch Machine 40lbs x 25 reps 4 x
Standing Oblique Wiggles(Side Bends) 4 x 25 reps


P.S. Excuse the strange typos in this post.  I tried countless times to change this and still it remains with an error.  And I’m tired and must try and get 3 hours of sleep before I open the gym.  The usual.



“Over the years I have developed a picture of what a human being living humanely is like. It is a person who understands, values and develops their body, finding it beautiful and useful; a person who is real and is willing to take risks, to be creative, to manifest competence, to change when the situation calls for it, and to find ways to accommodate to what is new and different, keeping that part of the old that is still useful and discard.”


Just Breathe On Me…

Before we went inside the room.

There was a couple in front of us giggly loudly, smelling like sticky black leather, voluminous wild frizzy hair and cigarettes to fill half a bar.  A young jaw-chiseled attractive man with his v-neck hugging to his bulging muscles was as appealing as having vision in both eyes.  Nonchalantly right next to him was an older woman, caramel skin with breasts and hips just like a Latin Island with clothes on so tight she stood as naked as a mannequin.  And me and my fling of the month looked at one another to trade the thoughts of our eyes by the serious age difference of this couple.

Fast-forward and now we’re Inhaling the green and clogging our throats with the stain of smoke and chemicals.  He passes me a Mango nectar drink, something I’ve never had before.  I stood smiling at him with my eyes and cringing before the sugar touched my virgin taste buds.  We were watching television like mindless zombies.  Except my mind was on guard, heavy like I imagine a Chastity belt would be on anyone’s pelvis.  I observed.. through the haze I was getting myself into.. these jumping free spirit thoughts and escalating hormones.. they stood quite still in the moments in which I killed lots of time.  I notice how quiet his mind was.  But how at the same time his thoughts leaped off the wall in bounds to plot the obvious:  “How do I get closer to her without coming on too strong?”  His body language slumped coolly in the chair as if he were James Dean in some cocky Durango boots.  He was as every other understanding I’ve taken from human behavior, easy to figure out.

Like some things in life, it’s better to remain calm, drive from the back seat, yet give someone the card to play only if they have earn it.  Nothing exciting and full of value comes with simplicity.  But I decided to give him a little leeway as I know how difficult it can be to get close to someone quite as shielded and complex as me.  I slipped out of my sneakers, scooted back on the bed and started stretching.  Legs as wide as I could get them, inner thighs stretching, sending blood towards my groin.  In my head I figure:  Why not stir his mind up slowly?  I looked him in the eye as if he had my future written in them and ask him casually, “So did you want to fuck that Curvy Island lady we saw outside?”  Not wanting to ruin the moment or make any sudden error he answers while shrugging his shoulders, “She has a nice body.  But the guy she was with looked so young.”

In and out of conversation we went through as he worked his way over until he sat in between my semi-split.  Then the only thing I could remember from there was his hungry passionate eyes staring deep into mine and I felt the radiation melting on the pores of my skin.  My heart rate escalating as how his was when he caressed the features of my face with a light butterfly touch.  I shied away pulling my face nervously left to right.  His smooth lips pressed against my cheek and out a short exhale whispered a hello.  I turned my face to his cheek and kissed his cheek right back with the same exhale greet.  Hello.  And then we met eye to eye, lips to lips and we exchanged inhales and exhales sucking up each others breaths…

To be continued…


And You?

I’m fighting for sanity.  I’m fighting for happiness.  I’m fighting for weight loss.  I’m fighting the acid in my stomach when I’m hungry.  I’m fighting to gain muscle.  I’m fighting to be injury-free.  I’m fighting reps.  I’m fighting the catty slut bitches in the middle of my day.  I’m fighting the constant failures and disappointments of men.  I’m fighting for forgiveness.  I’m fighting for dreams I’ve never had.  I’m fighting so I can come up with dreams I’ve never had.  I’m fighting for peace of mind.  I’m fighting to adjust in every catapult situation.  I’m fighting for grace.  I’m fighting for relationship(s) that may not want to be saved.  I’m fighting time.  I’m fighting depression.  I’m fighting my current state of mind.  I’m fighting for spirituality.  I’m fighting for laughter.  I’m fighting for everything and nothing at the same time.  And I’m quite exhausted.

What are you fighting for?



Every Thursday for the past month, I’ve been Training my 400lb friend @ a gym where we’re both members.  Obviously this makes everything easier and we rock out for as long as possible because we share the same love, passion, mindset, discipline and determination.  Also it helps that the gym is 24 hours.  We start at midnight when the gym dies down and stay for a few hours to forget about the world, forget about time, routines and whatever else.

Now, maybe one of you is wondering: How can a 400lb person share that type of passion and mindset for Fitness?  Long ago his Muay Thai Master instilled all these elements that takes decades for some people to achieve if at all.  But over the years he decided to give up entirely after his Master died and the perils of life swam over his head.  However this isn’t so much about his life or anything as much as what bothers me about him.  And maybe one of you lovely folks could actually give me one of your theories as to what his deal might be?

During our Training sessions I show him things as we go along.  He knows some basic exercises, but when it comes to mastering bodyweight exercises with good form/alignment or how to set up the resistance machines according to his body is type crucial.  I’ll pick out the body parts (just because he doesn’t want to) and we’ll rock out anywhere from 2-3 hours.  Usually devoted to our favorites like Dumbbells, Barbells and Resistance Machines.  And the last 20 minutes would be walking a mile at a pace he’s good with on the treadmill.

Now during our training sessions, it sort of seems like he goes through a mixture of feelings.  (Of course I’m assuming here based on my interpretations of his behaviors.)  One thing he does (which this past week he did not do because I tired his ass out and his weakness so happens to be his what?  Legs!) is try to burn me out.  He verbally presses the issue for me to lift heavy every set (which I do only on certain parts that wouldn’t hurt my rotator cuff).

Except one night he went off on a babble and said, “You have to do this because if I’m enduring this torture you have to too.”  I said, “I agree.   But you have to understand  1.  I have endured and continue to endure years of Training under my belt.  2.  I have to know my boundaries so my joints and other trigger points don’t get out of hand.  3.  You have to endure this Training!  You’re somewhere different from me.”  So like what’s his deal here?

The second thing he loves to do while I’m in my set and if I’m failing or failed or am completely exhausting the set and tend to do a staggered or pause/rep and I stop for 5 seconds say I did the number 10 or 12.  But my goal number was to hit 15.  He instantly shouts out I only did 5 repetitions as oppose to 10 or 12.  And no he’s not stupid!  Far from it.  But I presume he thinks this is cute?  I said, “No this was the amount of reps I counted.  How you figure?”  And then he goes to argue with me like some delusional fuckhead!

So far once during a set after I clearly hit muscular failure at 10, he says, “Give me 2 more reps for not hitting the number goal.”  I instantly wonder not only: What’s his deal?  (But does he want to take over and Train me or us together? Does he even understand what muscular failure is?)  He has to lose a tremendous amount of weight.  He came to me to train him.  I’m doing all this for free.  So could it be he’s too busy looking at me more as a friend than his trainer in the moment of our training session?  (I’ve had this little dilemma before, typically with women.)  Or does he want to feel like a man in the midst of our training? Especially when I outdo him (not meaning to) with exercises or weight?

He has a problem with lifting lighter weights and repping out.  He doesn’t listen to my instructions when he goes to the gym solo throughout the week.  He has a problem not wanting to buy 3 Gatorades when I tell him to stop that sugary shit.  Then the part I don’t really get (and it could be because he’s Latin meaning his mother/wife performs duties for him that he should be doing for himself) that once after we finished up our 4 sets of Seated One-Arm rows he’s huffing and puffing and tells me:  “Can you go downstairs and get me a Gatorade?”

Mind you all this as his 400lb ass is still sitting and grasping for air.  I’m confused as to  1.  Why he’s so fucking lazy to go downstairs and not get a Gatorade even though he’s slow like a slug and still can burn calories anyway?  And  2.  Is he a woman?  Why is he asking me to go get him something like I’m the man?  I don’t believe in this whole “oh I’m such an independent woman that I would want my man to start being the bitch for the littlest thing!”

One week he asked me for 50 cents for a Gatorade.  And after the gym he would like it if I went one week to pay for both our foods and one week he pays.  All this brought me back to was all the memories of when we were in school together for Automotive Body and Repair.  I can’t believe I forgot all those tiny memories. But they slowly came up to the surface like how he would want me to buy him food all the time and he was half the size then 250lbs?  (He recently lost a 100lbs, so he was 500.)  Even back when I analyze his eating habits in 4 bites his pizza would vanish.  His meat patty with cheese still sizzling about to disappear into his vicious depression and hate for the choices he’s made in his life and how he doesn’t forgive himself.

This also reminds me how nice I am to people who I believe are my friends.  But at the same time how much of a leech he is, how easy it is for him (and the world) to take full advantage.  And these are some of the things that are nagging me about him. So if this keeps going I’m going to have to shut him down completely. Right?


Breast Sweat!

Yeah, so sometimes I wonder how many men in the world like Tittie Sweat?

As I write this.. my lovely lad smells my stretched out white sleeping bra.  He’s as interesting as the familiar eye he’s giving me.  The look that knows what I know well:  Pet peeved!  I (normally) don’t like it when he or anyone tries or succeeds in taking a whiff of my sweat, never mind the breast sweat!  It’s intimate, private and grossly personal.  (Boy, do I have intimacy issues! ;)) Frankly it annoys the fuck out of me!   And this would probably be why he does it?  Just to aggravate my nerves with benevolent hilarity.

A good hour or hour and a half session of weight-lifting plus cardio will leave plenty of moisture underneath the savages of these breasts of mine.  Just a few hours ago on the elliptical I felt the perspiration squishing my bra to the underbelly of both these ladies.  It’s weird.  I take my shirt and slide it under the ill-disciplined gals to hurry and collect funky moisture.  Also the thought never crosses my mind when it comes to doing all this in public as I ogle the accumulation of dirty looks from certain (possibly deeply insecure) women and alongside dubious thought bubbles leaving from the heads of men.  Why are people so fucking nosy?  Why must they insist on watching me clear sweat away from my boobs?

What don’t I like about this lady sweat?.. besides the faint fragrant and the under-wire.  Oh, maybe the ring of water?  Invisible dirt/color forming?  And most likely the dead skin cells ensnared and being suffocated in what I’d like to call auto-pilot mode?  Gee, let me guess!  Wondering if I’m a filthy gal for handling things pretty well?  Or maybe it’s the self-conscious feeling of evaluating my own conscious Self?  Ah!  Not to mention if I’m not careful I break out in small rashes easily.  <Insert loud obnoxious sigh here!>

Maybe I should take it as a compliment?   My (on/off ) partner wanting every tang and sweat coming out of my pores, whether it’s from the funk skunk of my underarms to the mush sweat glistening behind the backs of my pliable knees.  Maybe it’s me?   But when you love something or someone you find their foul or their moments of natural perfume/cologne odor animalistic rather flavorful and exceedingly arousing.  I think there may be hidden magic in the unclean person too?  (Probably not in me though?)

Does anyone else smell their partner’s sweat whether it’s from the warmth of her breasts or the working days of his balls and find it to be cool, forgiving, lovely or moving?

Inquiring minds wants to know.