1 cup of pasta??? Shit, I’ll snort one cup of pasta.

Even though I started my boot camp at Mitchell Fitness on Tuesday morning at 5:30am I have only gotten feeling back in my arms tonight, so now I write.  Now some might cringe at the early hour I begin my day.  To be quite honest, that is the time I normally go to the gym anyway so it is not that big of a deal.  I fucking hate the gym in the afternoon/evening.  I mean really, guys wearing sunglasses while they work out, or grunting extra loud so everyone sees that they’re lifting all this weight.  Sweat stains and stretch marks abound. Nasty.  Anyway, it’s just me and the over 70 crowd in the morning, so that is when I’ve become accustomed to.

So boot camp.  We started out by taking all my measurements.  As of 1/4/2010 I am 164lbs with 16.25 percent body fat.  I definitely have some work to do.

Now I thought Trent, my trainer, or as I call him, “mother fucker,” was going to take it easy on me, it being my first day and all. The next thing I know he has me climbing around on the floor like Spiderman, stretching in ways at which a porn star would blush, and doing sets of crunches, sit ups and  TRX rows or some shit.  Twenty minutes in and I was gassed.  He then says, “You guys warm???”  The only thing “warm” was the back of my throat from the throw up that I kept swallowing back down.  We spent the next forty-five minutes in some circuit filled with planks, rows, push ups, bench presses, jump rope etc… I was starting to lose it.  With about ten minutes left, Trent, noticing I was ghastly white, told me to take a break and stretch.  The room was spinning and I thought, “O shit, if I throw up on my first day here I’m going to have to hear about it for the next eight weeks.”  My buddy Armando, who is training with me, was having troubles of his own and looked at me as I stretched with envious eyes.  We finished up by taking both ends of a rope the size of a fire hose and banging it, one arm at a time, back and forth, as hard as possible onto the mat.  Where the hell am I, this is like when Rocky goes into the mountains to train for the Russian shit.

Trent does know what he’s doing not only with the weight and cardiovascular side of things but with how to eat right as well.  What I am doing now is trying to eat five smaller meals a day.  I am eating two egg whites and some fruit with a glass of milk in the morning.  At about 9:30a.m. I’ll eat a banana or have a protein shake.  For lunch I’ll try to have a salad with chicken or a sandwich from subway.  By 3p.m. I am starving and I’ll drink a bottle of water and have twelve almonds and then around 7p.m. I’ll have dinner overseen by my little Hitler of a wife, “Corn has sugar in it, Trent said only one cup of pasta, seconds? Ahh not tonight sweetie.”  Has anyone seen what one cup of cooked pasta looks like?  Now I know it could probably feed three villages in Ethiopia for a week and all that bullshit but I am hungry by the end of the day.  One cup of pasta?  Shit, I’ll snort one cup of pasta.

The bag.
We received this bag over the holidays and Katherine bet me that I cannot have my body looking like this by May 1st. She has not said this, and even now as I write this, she is saying in the backround she didn’t bet me and she believes in me or some hippie goofy shit. But I could see it, dear readers. As clear as the narrator of a Tell Tale Heart, I could see it in her eye, looking at me, mocking me, laughing!   We will see who has the last laugh.  Every time I want to give up, every time the vomit creeps to the tip of my tongue like a child on top of the stairway Christmas morning, I will think of this bag and…her eye.

My candle burns at both ends

It will not last the night;

But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends –

It gives a lovely light.

-Edna St. Vincent Millay


1 Response to “1 cup of pasta??? Shit, I’ll snort one cup of pasta.”

  1. 1 Nate Diggity Dogg
    January 8, 2011 at 5:39 am

    What the fuck are you doing out there now? I’m getting nervous.

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