of the book cover is beginning to take form. Like building a full
biceps complemented by a sweeping triceps, a balanced and impelling
cover requires time, patience and concentration. The words have
been written and arranged in questionable order as if I were trying
to keep the reader guessing; most of the pictures are in focus
and right-side-up except for the fuzzy shot of me driving a forklift
at my first job in N.J. Laree says it's me but I think
it's my buddy, Billy. Got three endorsements so far: one from
Wayne, my landlord who lives in the apartment downstairs and one
from the assistant coach at Aptos High, Bubba somthin,' and one
from a retired lady schoolteacher, Miss Billingsworth (poor ole
gal needs a Sherlock Holmes magnifying glass to read it), who
said she'd correct the spelling and periods, commas and stuff
if I'd clean her backyard. She asked when I could deliver the
manuscript to her house. (That was very cool because I had been
thinking of it as a pile of disheveled yellow-lined paper.) I'd
say we're ahead of schedule and should have the book on the market
by September 15th.
has to be catchy, too. GET HUGE AND CUT UP, FAST: FOR DUMMIES.
Laree suggested, IN LESS THAN THIRTY DAYS instead of 'fast.' What
do you think?
in our sphere has been mostly wonderful and as hard as I try I
cannot hold back the movement of time. Most of you who know me
recognize that my inability to control time is one of my pet peeves;
the formula is simple and right under our noses and I insist on
uncovering it. Promise, you'll be the first to know when I do.
How are your
health and fitness pursuits as you cruise the summer days? Are
you getting huge and cut up, did you set a personal record today,
has the sweat from your body formed puddles under the Stairmaster
or have you temporarily misplaced your gym bag? I understand -
we all understand, anyone receiving this silly newsletter understands.
Truth is, the inside of the gym has been a less frequent hangout
for me as I slip-slide along with the you-know-what. And when
I'm there the space around the equipment is somewhat unoccupied.
The natives are out in the jungle stirring up sunshine and waves,
barbecues, fresh air, beach runs and mountain bike rides. The
We know each
other pretty well; may I make a small suggestion, a tiny reminder?
My prompting comes from the heart and is more a plea than an imperative.
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls and you muscle worshippers,
lend me your ears. Do not go one week without two workouts. These
can be the thirty minutes - fifteen if you're rumpled and time-torn
- that save you from the dreaded muscular disease, The Gap.
of The Gap, haven't you: an uncontrollable malfunctioning of the
disciplinary tract, which leads to the deterioration of the walls
of the will? Some folks have been known to succumb to the wretched
disorder for months, losing muscle tone and gaining a tire (excuse
me) around the middle. Mild discontent, guilt, irritability and
sloping shoulders accompany The Gap. Loss of energy and stamina
are not uncommon and binge eating has been observed amongst serious
press us to limit our exercise schemes and obliging the pressure
is natural and good. Summer vacations and winter holidays beg
for time off. Be aware and recognize the safe and friendly boundaries
of maintenance training and faithfully heed them until the more
favorable times when you can 'blast' with hungry might. Failure
to do so leads to despicable consequences. Prevention is easier
than the cure.
cure demands that you be so sufficiently distressed with yourself
that you're willing to start all over again. Yuk. Don't you hate
that? Admonishments precede the undertaking of the bitter cure
and recovery is a lonely path overgrown with thistle and thorn.
Cures and recoveries are sweet if they are short-lived and infrequent;
they teach and award us with gratefulness. Should they recur like
a broken spoke on a turning wheel, you can expect that the wheel
is going nowhere. Fail to fix and one by one the spokes buckle
Are you losing
your spokes, Oh, busy resident of Muscletown? Before tomorrow
morning pack your gym bag, prepare your ready-mix pre-workout
protein energizer and plan a forty-five minute re-entry program
that gives you ten on the bike, five on the gut and thirty on
your favorite muscle-building equipment. Don't get in anybody's
way and don't stop. Don't calculate, think too much, talk or groan
if some bean-brain gets in your way. You're there to 'do,' to
perform, to move as if chasing a mouse but not wanting to catch
it. This can become your training style for the coming weeks that
might be otherwise conspicuously absent of training time. Random
training can develop smart patterns that allow you to move through
the gym cleverly and swiftly, around the people, wherever you
please with a built-in, hi-tech, newly devised homing mechanism:
followed by the pulldown, followed by the dip machine, followed
by the pullover (sets of 8-12), followed by the triceps pulley
pushdown, followed by dumbbell alternate curls (any weight that
feels good), followed by the dip machine, followed by the seated
lat row, followed by the dumbbell incline, followed by the pullover,
followed by the seated lat row, followed by the bench press, followed
by the pulldown, triceps machine, curls, pushdowns, dumbbell inclines,
pullover, water, always water. Smile, nod, dumbbell alternates
(this is the greatest, tomorrow it's legs and deadlifts), triceps
pushdowns... ... One more set... ... Dumbbell inclines... ...
in five minutes.
minutes? I just got here two hours ago. Bench press followed by
pulldowns and pullovers... ...
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