Posts from — September 2009

A bunch of people in my Olympic Lifting Class were having trouble with the split position while going overhead. Check out a couple of the pictures below. Remember, you have to drive yourself under the bar.

Split Jerk

Split Snatch

Split Clean

This is an excerpt from an article that is set to be published  in Newsweek magazine in a week. The first person account from some of the Taliban fighters are really interesting. I also thought the Afghans’ hatred for the Arabs in Afghanistan is noteworthy. The Afghans derogatorily called them “camels”.   Here is the opening paragraph:

“During wars and after them, the real voice of the enemy is rarely heard. Propaganda is plentiful, as are prideful boasts—and the Taliban have certainly been quick studies at the modern art of information warfare. But the fears and ambitions of ordinary fighters are too often buried under statistics and theories propounded from thousands of miles away. That’s been even more true in Iraq and Afghanistan, where reporters who might accurately convey the other side’s perspective are at risk of being kidnapped or killed for their efforts.”

——–

“After two months of hard training, we graduated. There were 200 of us: about 160 local tribals, a few Punjabis, and about 40 Afghans like me. We were divided up into 10 groups. Each had two or three Arabs assigned to it as commanders and instructors. We split up: some groups went to Khost and Paktia provinces, and others to Ghazni and Kandahar. Three of our groups were bombed by the Americans crossing the border. It was very dangerous back then. We had to run quickly and stay out of sight. We didn’t want villagers to see us. At that time they weren’t very supportive, and there were spies looking for us. We wanted to reach the cover of ravines, rocks, and trees before the sun rose.”

Read the whole article here

From Mark's Daily Apple (Great Blog)

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In talking to people about how the Caveman Challenge is going thus far, I’m seeing two common errors (One of which I am guilty of myself)

Mistake #1: You aren’t eating enough fat. If you pull out a bunch of food from your diet, you need to replace it with something. Eat more fat. I see this mistake more from women. Seriously, stop it. If you have questions about how to eat more fat, why to eat more fat, or if eating more fat is going to give you a heart attack(it won’t), just ask.

Mistake #2: You aren’t eating enough carbohydrate. This is the one I’m guilty of. It is always easier to just grab a bunch of almonds or some chicken instead of a fruit or vegetable. This is mostly because I can freeze meats and store nuts, but I have to shop for fruits and veggies a couple times a week. If I was going for only body fat loss, limiting carbohydrate as much as I am could be desirable. However, as I have experienced in the last couple weeks, if I’m not eating enough fruits and vegetables I have no “gas in the tank” during intense workouts. This might be the greatest advantage to the “Zone” and other similiar eating plans. It forces me to eat adequate carbohydrate with every meal instead of just hammering down some cashew butter. I just need to make a focused effort to eat more fruits and veggies as this challenge continues.

See you tomorrow.

I CELEBRATE myself;
And what I assume you shall assume;
For every atom belonging to me, as good belongs to you.

I loafe and invite my Soul;
I lean and loafe at my ease, observing a spear of summer grass.

Houses and rooms are full of perfumes—the shelves are crowded with perfumes;
I breathe the fragrance myself, and know it and like it;
The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it.

The atmosphere is not a perfume—it has no taste of the distillation—it is odorless;
It is for my mouth forever—I am in love with it;
I will go to the bank by the wood, and become undisguised and naked;
I am mad for it to be in contact with me.
The smoke of my own breath;
Echoes, ripples, buzz’d whispers, love-root, silk-thread, crotch and vine;
My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs;
The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore, and dark-color’d sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn;
The sound of the belch’d words of my voice, words loos’d to the eddies of the wind;
A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms;
The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag;
The delight alone, or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hill-sides;
The feeling of health, the full-noon trill, the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun.

Have you reckon’d a thousand acres much? have you reckon’d the earth much?
Have you practis’d so long to learn to read?
Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?

Stop this day and night with me, and you shall possess the origin of all poems;
You shall possess the good of the earth and sun—(there are millions of suns left;)
You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books;
You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me:
You shall listen to all sides, and filter them from yourself.

-Walt Whitman, first two sections of Song Of Myself, from Leaves of Grass