We Dare You to be Sensible

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Need a nudge? That’s like asking do you need a few extra bucks. Everybody I know needs a little, or a lot, of both. Today, for example, I could use a stack of hundreds and someone with a big stick to drag me to the gym. Instead, Laree and I will drag each other and have fun in the process.

We are two of the many determined IronOnliners who have decided to make a difference in their lives by the end of the year (he’s sounding like a TV commercial). And you, too, can be an iron-made, steel-spirited winner. United we stand, bombers: Make muscle, lose fat and get ripped, be bigger, stronger and faster -- the choice is up to you. (He’s serious -- this is embarrassing).

As you know, the Great IronOnline End of Year Challenge has just begun -- Monday, the day before yesterday, to be exact. But exact is not important, not in our broad field of endeavor. We’re loose and we’re cool; we’re bold, bound and determined.

Join the IOL gang whenever you get the urge, when the pressure becomes too much to bear, when you feel like a loser standing on the lonely and conspicuous sidelines observing the action, when you notice your muscles shriveling and your bulk jiggling and your joints stiffening while shuffling about -- a mere spectator, when beaming men, women and children energetically pass you by, and a thin film of dust settles on your perspiration-free forehead and carefully coiffed hair as you safely watch the fun and games, and, perhaps, before it’s too late to enjoy the exhilarating, fulfilling and fruitful journey ahead should you act now. Take your time. What’s the rush? It’ll be over be ya know it.

Laree has estimated 50 IOL members have committed to participate in the challenge; that is, they are standing up and being counted, and logging on the forum. And we suspect at least that many are engaged privately and hovering in the shadows. I understand. I’m a shadowy character, myself. Give me a shadow and I’m there, crouched, face smeared with camouflage paint, whispering and using hand signals.

However, those who log on weekly, the open and forward ones, reap the most delicious and abundant fruits of the adventure. Accountability and visibility work. Risk -- daring -- is part of the attitude that sets us in motion, propels us ahead and thrusts us over obstacles. I’m me, such as I am, and I’m moving on, I’m moving up, I’m moving out.

Step up, log on. It’s simple. It’s informative, insightful and effectual. You’re instantly more involved, more committed, more curious and more aware without being exposed or burdened or guarded. The light of day enables you to see what you’re doing, and what you’re doing gets done, more easily, more certainly and more cheerfully. Furthermore, you encourage and assist accompanying bombers as they help you.

It’s Bomber Power!

We get downright lackadaisical and simpering when bombarded by daily living. Up in the morning and catch a ride on the roller coaster, buckle up and hold on, inhale a lungful of toxins and scream, absorb a mindful of chaos and groan. Let’s face it, what’re the alternatives? Duck, here it comes; Run and hide; Rant and rave; Feed your face; Order another tall one; Play dead?

A smart alternative for safe, satisfying and far-reaching travel is to train hard, eat right and be strong. The road ahead is full twists and turns, steep slopes and sudden drops, and needs iron reinforcement all along the way. Zoom, clank, rattle, zoom.

My goal is to continue my survival training through December, overcome my current penguin-like gait, and complete my enlightening and exuberating chelation therapy. Not exactly 20-inch-guns and barn-door lats, but what the heck. Sometimes sticking to the straight and narrow is the very best we can do.

Did I say survival training? I call it survival training because it is precisely that, training devoted to surviving. Recovery is a slow process, buckaroos. Remember the nagging tendonitis of the elbow that had you icing and wrapping, and the miserable lower back that had you popping ibuprophen and throwing fits? Oh, boy! How about the hernia, the knee, the flu, the lobotomy?

Forgot about the lobotomy, did you?

Seven months ago (times flies like a lead balloon) I entered the hospital for a CCT (cutesy cardio tweak); six month ago I entered the gym for a body revival. I’ve trained three days a week since without skipping a beat. The workouts average 90 minutes, 25 to 30 sets plus midsection, and I push more than I should, like 90-percent max. I don’t rush, but I do push. It seems quite okay at the time, but fatigue follows me home like a lost and angry gorilla. He hangs out and glares.

My strength is restored and I look about the same as I did a year ago, minus a few pounds, but my cardio-respiratory power is -- how should I put it without sounding pessimistic? -- the pits. Yup! Deep, gaping and frothy pits from which steam and smoke belch in thunderous episodes.

I can gauge a workout and train hard, but a flight of stairs makes a hunky monkey out of my angry gorilla. I have reenlisted the aid of the spin bike to attend the heart, lungs and circulation, but it’s too early to determine its value. Perhaps more than two sessions are required.

Excuse me, kids, I’m a little blue. Must be the early signs of winter: dull grey skies, chilly and wet. I mimic my surroundings like a chameleon. My skin, come to think of it, is looking a lot like the little lizard’s as well.

[I’m pretending to be weak, to have a dark side. This is difficult, near impossible, but I must maintain an appearance of real-world credibility. And, too, I cannot help but consider your comfort. If I’m always up, you’ll sense the contrast between us and find me obnoxious.... Well, thanks a lot, pal. I think you just might have a small attitude problem.]

Another concern is the darting pains in my thighs that have me limping like race horse after one too many laps around the winner’s circle (easy, big fella, have some oats). The affliction, you might recall, has been partially diagnosed as peripheral artery disease, or PAD, and I’ve sought intravenous EDTA chelation therapy as a treatment. An impressive pool of renowned cardiologists and cardiovascular researchers highly commend the process for heart and vascular disease recovery. Chelation before surgery is their mantra.

As promised, here’s a brief update of my dazzling and exciting therapy: I’ve completed 18 of 40 three-hour IV treatments administered twice weekly. They’re not painful and I ruthlessly kill time resting, reading or searching for keys on my laptop. I’d rather be performing acrobatics or stacking my gold bullion, but a guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do. There have been no evident changes in pain, energy or well-being, though blood tests indicate improvement in certain markers. Something’s happening somewhere.

Fact is, nothing substantial is expected until the full treatment has been administered, or some time (weeks) later. I knew this going in and have found the process to be a test of resilience, patience and faith. Insurance doesn’t cover the costs and I’ve found a swell space under the Santa Cruz Town Clock to set up a beach chair and beg. Hey, buddy... got a dime... 1,500 dimes to be exact?

My next option is an MRI and a peak at the lower back and its associated discs. Hmm!

Limping is rhythmic, rather attractive and your world view takes on new motion. I’ve been looking at the latest in lightweight and sporty walkers. Zoom-Zoom makes a cool model, fully adjustable with leather handles, hydraulic shocks and a horn that sounds like a Buick.

Anything will do... Just get me to the B-29 on time to climb and I’m fine.

Go... Godspeed... Dave

The Great IronOnline End of Year Challenge

Though I’m not an active participant in the IOL Forum, I am aware of its members and their activities. Too much of Dave Draper becomes evident real quick, like a frolicking skunk in a small neighborhood. So I sit on the bench with my lifting belt slung over my shoulder and root for the champs.

They are a very good bunch. Do you know how hard it is to round up a good bunch? The world is full of weirdoes, man.

They have just introduced a free-for-all fitness challenge to assist each other in confronting the slippery slopes of winter and holiday training, and the response has been positively enthusiastic. Positive enthusiasm, according to muscleheads, anthropologists and psychiatrists, is the rarest and most essential ingredient in mankind’s will to live and get bigger, stronger, faster and more ripped.

This is not me-against-you competition, but me-for-myself-while-I-share-with-you quest: Fun, instructive, enabling, engaging and progressive. It works. Set a goal, log in once a week with your short or long comments and watch the improvements begin. Laree presents a descriptive blog post to fill you in and further entice you with the Challenge’s personal possibilities.

My goal: return to my pre-op 215 pound bodyweight and star in my own TV mystery series.

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