Power Quote : Your Daily Dose Of Inspiration

"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but the moments that take our breath away"

















No clue where that hails from, some friends wrote it for me on a note.

Read it again this morning, before I started my day.




Hope it stays with you,

Perdita

Work Hard Play Hard 2

Snapshots From the Week That Was:

Salsa

This past week you may have read me lamenting over Salsa with the sisters & Co. I am reluctant to admit it...but it was crazy fun!


One sister bailed citing work the next morning at 6am. But I dug deeper and come to find out, she (working) sister was car pooling with another sister, and posed the question: "When I am ready to go, are you going to leave? I have to work in the morning". The driving sister replied "Suck it up", and proceeded to call her a party pooper. Unimpressed the sister who had to work decided she did not like the tone and stayed home.


Not a surprise as she will do this from time to time if she does not like your response. Mother calls this a "terrible habit".

Here are a few snapshots from the evening. B, if you are reading this...Na Na Na Boo Boo ;)







Fundraiser
I attended a sports celebrity charity event in Hamilton for the second time. There were over 600 people in attendance at the 8th annual dinner and auction event.(www.carpenteros.ca). Pinball Clemons was the guest speaker, who gave me goose bumps when he spoke. His message was about not "playing the game" for ourselves but for others.

Here are a few shots from that night:





Look at what they did to me
Accupunture Needles...ouch!


Just kidding, it didn't hurt, and I get this done all the time--but it could have.
I am a true gladiator, enduring the potential agony of tiny needles to my sensitive nerves.

Cookie Monster
My Sunday night treat as reward for such a great work week, baked by the best pastry chef in the land, Courtney Campbell.

Here I am surrounded by my favorites, old fashion styled sweet potatoe turnovers, and peanut butter& chocolate chip cookies. Yummy.





"C.C" made a personal "mother of all cupcakes" for me, as well as 200 cupcakes for my guests at my 28th Birthday Celebration last month.

I can't get enough of her, so now I solicite her services after a hard training cycle, or any other reason of my choosing.

Me to Courtney Campbell: "November 15th marks the end of a hard meso training cycle, can you have 17 chocolate cupcakes, and 10 tarts ready for me that afternoon? And standby for January 6th".

Let us all learn the mantra of work hard play hard!


My Happy 28th 'Per-day' cupcakes: Red velvet with cheese cake topping, white and chocolate with chocolate and vanilla topping alternated & adorned with signatured fondant plaques Courtney Campbell: ccclassiccakes@yahoo.ca


Caution: Busy week ahead
They should last me a few days, and I am glad I burn hundreds of calories as part of my occupation. But this was a just reward for hard work and dedication and the week ahead that is going to be hectic. I have to fit in a four day athlete conference, a few appearances, a sponsor event, various treatments and my training. As well as stay on top of emails and odds and ends. And then take a quick road trip to my training base in Illinois, before I go back for good in October.

(Sporting) Life is Beautiful!
P

Oh man, today I did something I never do.
It kind of startled me but it felt natural so I went with it. It was my last set of clean and squats, in a weight lifting circuit and I got completely out of character.

The Sounds of a Wild Boar


I am not a gym snob, but I do tend to look at people funny when they are at the gym and grunt and shriek as they lift weight. I am quick to tabulate the amount of weight they are lifting in my head, then decide if that amount of weight warrants grunting like a wild boar, and the wrecking of my flow.

I am not one to be sassy, but If you are leg pressing 15 pounds Hercules, that does not give you a license to grunt-so-the-dead-can-hear-you.

Mkay.

Why They Do This

I don't make a whole bunch of noise and draw attention to myself when I am working out, I can only guess as to why some do it.

1). Attention, "Grrr, look at all this metal I'm pumping peons".
2). Picking up dirty habits from a wayward gym.
3). It makes them feel like they are working harder, gives the illusion of buffness.

Whatever it is, I say let the weight fit the shriek.

Today's Drill

Today at the gym I was on my last set of clean and squat, as part of a circuit. I had done 7 other exercises before and I was fatigued. I had to complete 12 reps, and not let my form break down and be as quick as I could.

I approached the bar and clapped, I do this to rally the troop. Me.
I looked myself in the mirror and mouthed something private. Not like the things I tell myself before a championship final, which are always encouraging and bubble gum. The peps talks between me, myself and I, in a practice setting teeter on abrasive.

It works, it's not literal but lights a fire under me, "We are not here to waste a day, you drop this weight and I'll...." like that.

So it's common for me to look myself in the eyes, snarl and whisper: "Let's go ho", "You got this", "Get it together", or "Don't piss me off".

It's personal, powerful and yes I know, coo coo. I've been doing it for years.

Whispers, Forearms, Fingertips


I whispered my venom and curled my fingers around the bar. Because I am lifting heavier lately, it demands a lot of strength in my forearms and hands. But I don't have the same level of conditioning I am used to. I can deal with the weight, but my forearms and hands get so fatigued making my grasp weak.

I did some quick trigger points on my forearms, which were throbbing, tight and in need of Bengay. I don't use lifting gloves and I am determined to not drop the weight, while having good form even if I sacrifice speed.

I take a few breaths, wink at the chick surrounded by mirrors and go to work.

I breath normally, though my hands and forearms send signals to my brain to: "Abandon weight, abandon weight". I override the signals and clean and press 5 reps before the urge to let go becomes so overwhelming.

I muster a 6th.

By now my hands are trembling, fingers are on fire. But I see the woman looking back at me, who will be disappointed if i drop the weight in surrender.

I breath, regroup and mouth "Perdita you can, you will do this". I bypass physical strength and summon my will.

Up!
I close my eyes.
Squat down.
Throw the weight over my chest.
Bring my legs down in a squat.
Then stand up with weight in tow.

7!

There are 5 more to go, and I feel tapped out. I fight on, refusing to quit or take a breather.

I Squat down.
Throw the weight over my chest.
Bring my legs down in a squat.
Then stand up with weight in tow, once more.


8!

Betrayed By My Own Lips

I do it again, but as I go to stand my lips betray me and let out a shrill so loud that people look over!

"UU...UPPP!"

There is no time to think of embarassment.

I repeat the lift and yelp even louder, possessed by the strength it summons. More taxed, fingers sweaty and my grip slipping, I squat and cry out with such ferocity my throat scratches.

I command another, "Uuuppp!"

10...

Two more to go.

Stop and Stare
With that shriek everyone in the gym doesn't just glance, they now stare. They stop their leg pressing, pull ups, dumb bell flys and look my way.

As if in reverence, to give a moment of silence to what I am trying to achieve. They stop and stare as if sending some of their own strength my way. Buoying me for those final two reps.

Willing me through the 11th, then 12th. They think "Uuuppp!", and I shriek it.

With that final desperate yell, I let the weight fall to the platform with a violent bang, and hear the rattling as it bounces away.

As if snapped out of a trance by the sound, everyone resumes their routine and I hover over a bench, legs dead as my lungs greedily suck in air, my hands aflame.

The Revelation

It wasn't until I was in my car thirty minutes later that I replayed the workout in my head while taking notes.

OMG, wait a minute... was I yelping in there?!

Was I shrieking and groaning?
Was I, Perdita, miss anti-wildboar-noise, a single symphony of shrills?

Couldn't be.

I closed my journal, shook my head and peeled out of the parking lot with my car. Desperate to leave the memories of the workout right there.

But as fast as I drove I couldn't speed away from my own thoughts and the fact that indeed, I was a shrieking violet!

How did I get here?!

The Resolution
I hope I never see those people again, and I pray they have no clue who I am.

Despite a few asking for autographs.

But after today I am not as "Anti G.G.G", (Gratuitous Gym Grunts). And I won't be as quick to pass judgement or be perturbed by those who summon the strength-of-scream.

Grunt on with your bad self,
Perdites

Peking (北京) Vol.5

The last volume of pics from the Beijing Olympic Games.
Cheers,
P