Adieu

this blog is over (for a while) checkout what I'm upto at slimodsoc or Kolob Express. Toodles.

spoils of a great depression

I am neither Japanese nor a woman. Seen as I'm in a pinch though, I thought I might start eating like one. Guess what? The economy is bad. Who knew. Thank goodness I start a new job on Monday (I've been out of work for a while). While I hang on for dear life i.e. wait for my first paycheck, I'll eat rice. And nothing else. For two weeks. During that time I fully expect the aging process to slow down and my waistline to shrink as the blurb on the book promises. Sure I'll be missing 6 pillars of the diet. But hey, desperate times call for desperate measures.

the arrival

Loren wandered off the plane lead by as-attractive-as-could-be-expected hostesses who sung siren songs along the way. He reached quickly for his iPod drowning out their vocal lures with background noise far more powerful or at least more voluminous, if less lovely than their bewitchery. There would be plenty of time for sirens later. Having successfully negotiated his first test he strolled leisurely through recently laid puddles and trudged damp foot prints all the way up to the line that divided officially welcomed guests from illegal aliens. 

"Anything, to declare sir."

"Yes." he paused for emphasis: "I have arrived." This statement was met with less awe than he felt was warranted. Be that as it may, Australia fair was unprepared for what would come next.

when in Mexico

I watch this and my nausea explodes in a bright spectrum of colours like light passing through a prism. 

Here's a meme that's probably run its course, but you can never be too sure, lets perpetuate its ubiquity just a little more. Yes, lets... During the 1968 Olympics in Mexico a series of rigorous tests were carried out on a sample of athletes from different sports. Vertical jump, horizontal leap(?), and a 10 meter sprint were all tested (and probably others), all the key athletic indicators. The weightlifters won everything, beating the sprinters at sprinting, the high jumpers at jumping etc. Therefore: I should be weightlifting! For the uninitiated this means: the Clean & Jerk and the Snatch, all other lifts (except the squat) are of secondary importance. Most personal trainers (in spite of the evidence) will disagree with this assessment.

I've just finished cleaning up my mess. For the last five years on and off I've been doing power versions of THE LIFTS. Then I see high school attendees doing full depth versions with incredible poundages (because you get so low to catch the weight on the real versions of THE LIFTS, theoretically you should be able to lift far more weight then the power versions, more weight is good). It's about time I started doing things properly:

Saturday 21/03/09

hang clean/front squat complex 40, 45, 50*5

clean 60,65,70,75,80,85,90,95,97.5,100 (so I can clean as much as I can power clean, what gives?)

Sunday 22/03/09

Played game, felt totally smashed, only broke a few tackles and even missed a few, don't lift the day before a game ever again. We won 60 something to 10ish, I lost count along the way.

sars scare at the old Hopkins place

The spirit of competition can compel you to do a lot of stupid things. Head on collisions with grown arse men who have 30kgs on you springs to mind. Last year my younger brothers and I thought it would be a good idea not to drink any soft drink (soda pop for people who can't speak English), ever again. Silly. Well, they thought it was a good idea, what got me on board was that the winner got $10 from each of the other participants, there were 3 of us. Yep, I'm that hard up for money, there's nothing like a crisp $20 bill to get me leaping out of bed in the morning. OK, I think the real motivator was the whole principle of the matter. We committed that we wouldn't do it and if we did we would have to bear the eternal shame of losing to one of our siblings forever. The possibilities for the potential torment of a dear loved one were to much to pass up. Dumb. I love soft drinks especially root beer and when I'm feeling cheap and nasty I can even go for a round sarsaparilla (a.k.a budget root beer). It really felt like cheating on a partner not drinking this whole time. Why did I sign up for this? Idiot. So, when I left the country I took the opportunity to sneak in a drink or two (or more) and I've been happy ever since. Sorry boys, I'll pay you your teners in a few years when inflationary pressures have whittled their value down to something that I can live with for the rest of my life. Brilliant. Unfortunately I somehow feel more sluggish, less prone to rock the world with unimaginable goodness. Could I have been wrong? What's happening to me? Maybe drinking 2 litres of water a day (then) was better then the 2 litres of coke I down on a regular basis (now). That's it for the sake of my health and my wallet (which hangs on the brink of its own mini-apocalypse) no more soft drinks period. So sayeth me, my word is my bond.

what's this a work out?

DL sumo 200kgs*3,180/2*4 (I can't really overstate how disappointing this was, struggling on 200, are you serious!?)

power snatch 60,62.5,65,67.5,70 (weak, this is my annoyance getting bigger)

front squat 80/2*5 (dull stabbing pain on my right side, not good)

embattled: the mental scars of war

I forced myself to workout today hoping that it would pay off this coming weekend. You never know with these things. I forgot how painful a first game back could be. 3 days gone, and I'm still reeling. I'll put the body dissaray down to that very reason (first-game-itis), and dispell from the get go any suggestions that my age might be affecting me. I repeat in my mind, I am young, but I don't believe it.

hang snatch 40*5,50/2*5
bp 80,82.5, 85,87.5*5
sit row (high pull t-bar) 30,35,40*10
ohp-db 2(20)/2*5
mac row 35/2*8

what time is it? game time hooo!

the man who almost wrecked my season

Have you ever tried to heavy squat the day after playing back to back league games? Not recommended. I packed it in after the second set. I suppose the important thing here is that I finally got cleared play. The last time I took a league field in any (semi) official capacity was for the Richmond Bulldogs and that was 5 seasons ago. Why after the extended lay off did I need a release from the NZRL, did playing one season (the extent of my on field experience) of club footy for a lets, be honest, an absolute shambles of a team from an organizational standpoint justify my being eternally contracted to New Zealand rugby league? Thanks to Karmichael Hunt, yes.



The offender in question after two years of playing in Australia decided he was Australian (he's a Kiwi), hey if he wants to change national allegiance more power to him, the option was there and that's his prerogative (to be fair I think he's played all his league in Australia). I for one would have done differently, but that's just me. He went on to play a part in many successful Queensland and Australian sides and also lost in the world cup with Australia last year. You can't win them all eh. Karmichael is a talented player and the Kiwi's fearing a loss of other potential greats have instituted a rule precluding any players who have ever played in NZ from playing for Australia ever again by requiring said players to sign a contract pledging their loyalty to the NZRL the alternative being non-eligibility to play in Australia.



The details of the process of being cleared are complex beyond comprehensibility my current club manager for the Runaway Bay Seagulls showed me a schematic detailing each step of which there were about a million. All I could think of is: haven't these people heard of the internet? The bulk of the communications relied on faxing. Faxing? Did technology somehow freeze in the late 1980's for these people? Well through much pleading and excess expenditure of my mobile telephone credit I managed to circumvent the Karmichael Hunt rule. Finally I played yesterday. All is forgiven NZRL.



Played one game for the reserve team. We tied 16-16 with the Ormeau someone-or-rathers. Our team suffered from poor completion rates. Is it really that hard to catch a ball that's lollipopped into your lap? Come on boys! Played another with the Seniors after (I think my entire game time for the day must have been around 80 minutes). This one we lost by a converted try and an inability to retain the football once again. If you want to win you've got to respect the ball. Balls are quite dignified so I pay them their due reverence. Ahem. On a personal note my offence was almost up to its usual standards with my "the hardest man to tackle on the planet" moniker being justified once again. Damn I'm good. Then there was my D. The less said the better huh. Needs improvement.



Stats that matter:

No turn overs.

1 try. Only one? I'm just getting warmed up (coverage on the way soon).



Disclaimer: I bear no ill will to Karmichael, he's an awesome player. He'd be even better if he played for the Kiwis.

I'm in!

Just in time for the last preseason game the NZRL has responded to my incessant calling by faxing the form for my release to the Queensland Board of Rugby League. Game on!