Rolling Rock, not the beer

In high school, I had several great teachers.  One of them made me go look up Sisyphus, which back then meant going to the library, not just whipping out my phone and asking Google, which is probably why I still remember it.  Sisyphus, according to the myth, was a jerk.  The gods punished him by making him roll a giant rock to the top of a hill only to have it roll back down for eternity.  Pretty frustrating.  He must have been a really serious jerk for that to seem at all appropriate.

There is one way that Sisyphus can lift his own punishment.  He can like rolling rocks.

So at first glance, I appear to be advocating some kind of Stockholm syndrome.  Rolling rocks uphill is hard work.  Being compelled to do it over and over again doesn’t make it better.  But shifting perspective, choosing to love the strain of the muscles and the roughness of the boulder and the moment of success at the top and the careening excitement of the rock falling back down, can turn hell into something else.

Workouts, I hope, are not hell, but for those hellish moments, maybe we can try loving rolling rocks.

Everything on the list...

I am a stress eater.  Rough day?  Bring on the mac and cheese and probably the ice cream, too.  I can drown my sorrows in spaghetti, no problem.  The actual foods involved might be different, but I know I’m not the only person with this problem.

So:  one thing we can do about it is make a list of things that make us feel better that don’t have any calories in them.  Here are ten of mine:

1.     Exercise.

2.     Sleep.

3.    Music.

4.     Dancing.

5.     Cuddling.

6.    Bath.

7.     Car wash.

8.     Pedicure.

9.     Knitting/sewing/crafts.

1. Bubbles.

What’s on yours?

Routine Non-Procedure

Routine, like everything else, has advantages and disadvantages.  If I routinely eat a pint of ice cream every night, I probably won’t like the results.  If I routinely hop out of bed and get to my workout, I am more likely to enjoy what happens.  So far:  duh, right?

What happens when routine is disrupted?  Besides total chaos and the end of the world.  At the point when we can’t fall into our routine, we get to make choices.  Do we step up and find a way to take care of our fitness or dietary needs without the comfort of routine around us, or do we assume we can’t do anything because we didn’t do it when we were expecting to?

Here’s my plan for when plans don’t go as planned:  find a way.  Yes, I rely on my habits to get me to do things automatically that I would ordinarily find a way to get out of doing.  But when something happens in the morning, an unusual appointment, a missed alarm, I can figure out some way to fit the workout into another part of the day.

Let’s Get Things Done.

Monday Workout: Hey, no burpees this week!

This week’s workout uses a stability ball for three exercises:  YTA, fly, and roll-out abs.  If you don’t have one, you can do the first two exercises on a bench and substitute your favorite ab exercise for the third.  The other special piece of equipment is the Xiser, which is kind of like a very low-tech elliptical trainer; you can substitute a minute on an elliptical or stepping on a bench.  As usual, do three rounds.

mountain climbers	30
squats	20
YTA	10
plyojacks	30
ball fly	20
curls	10
Xiser	30
1 arm snatch	20
roll out abs	10

Friday Book Report: Out of Their League

I haven’t watched any football this season.  It’s not just because my team—how do I say this delicately—sucks.  I’ve been having qualms about watching for years as a result of books like Jeff Benedict and Don Yaeger’s Pros and Cons and Mark Fainaru-Wada and Steve Fainaru’s League of Denial.  The whole circus around Colin Kaepernick and his peaceful protest strengthened my conviction that really this was all about hypocrisy.  Then I read (and wrote about) Harry Edwards’s Sociology of Sport, which led me to today’s book, Dave Meggyesy’s Out of Their League.

Essentially, Meggyesy’s account points out that none of the stuff that is hitting the news recently is new (the book was published in 1970).  The issues with player health, drugs, concussions, violence against women, racism, and pseudo-patriotism have been there all along.

In the Foreward, he writes about why he quit football:

“It’s hard for me to count the reasons why. But I can begin by telling you about an image that is etched deep into my memory.  The Cardinals were playing the Pittsburgh Steelers in St. Louis one rainy, cold Sunday afternoon.  We were beating them easily and then, with a minute or so to go, they scored.  I was playing end on the kickoff return team and my assignment was to swing more than halfway across field and block the third man from the kicker on the Pittsburgh team.  I watched the flight of the ball as it went straight down the middle.  Then I dropped back a few steps and began the sprint across field.  My man must have thought someone had blown their blocking assignment or maybe it was because he was a rookie, but whatever the reason, he was making a bad mistake:  running full speed and not looking to either side.  I knew he didn’t see me and I decided to take him low.  I gathered all my force and hit him.  As I did, I heard his knee explode in my ear, a jagged, tearing sound of muscles and ligaments separating.  The next thing I knew, time was called and he was writhing in pain on the field.  They carried him off on a stretcher and I felt sorry—but at the same time, I knew it was a tremendous block and that was what I got paid for.

“During the rest of my years in the pros, this image would occasionally surface in my mind.  This sort of thing happened all the time; it was part of a typical Sunday afternoon in big-time football.  But the conditions that made me feel a confused joy at breaking up another man’s body gradually became just one of many reasons why I decided to quit the game.

“After playing the sport most of my life, I’ve come to see that football is one of the most dehumanizing experiences a person can face…” (p.  3-4)

I quoted at length, I know, but I wanted to give the full force of his writing, of the conflict between the amazing athletic enterprise and the inherent violence, of getting paid to do a job well, except that job is to wreck people.

The book is engaging throughout and often funny, intentionally or through the passage of time and its effect on colloquial speech.  The whole experience is thought-provoking and produced change in my behavior.

How about now?

I am not good at patience.  Now seems like an excellent time for things to work, take effect, start, finish, whatever.  I relate to Homer Simpson, staring at the microwave, wondering if there is any faster way to get a meal.

Sadly, the world is not on my (micro)wavelength.  Habits require repetition.  Changes occur over time, in increments.  The best we can do is work as efficiently and as conscientiously as possible.

Let’s go get our reps in.  One of these days, it’s all going to pay off.

Sick fitness

When we get sick, we have to pause and rearrange our priorities.  In case that is too much trouble, here is the priority list for while we are sick.

Sleep.

Hydrate.

Eat healthy food if possible.

Move around and/or stretch enough to avoid stiffness.

When we are back to being well, we can return to our usual priorities.

(Guess how I felt yesterday…)