Stuffed Superdud: Bumpy road to respectable lifting

[iSquat]

We're still reading.

[caveman]

I'm still here. I missed the memo that I was supposed to leave and go somewhere else. Oh well...

[Chad Mynhier]

Stories to follow...if anyone's still reading.

If I knew you well enough, I'd say something like this:

Of course we want the stories. We're not here for the training log. That's some weak-ass shit.

But a) I don't know you well enough for that to be taken in the manner in which it would be intended, and b) you lift heavier than I do. Actually, if I knew you well enough, b) would add some humor to it, as we would both see the ludicrousness of the posturing.

TL;DR: yes, more stories please.

[Str8shutr]

Write the stories! You and DR are the only reason I even look at this section of the forum.

(mostly)

[idlehands]

Write the stories! You and DR are the only reason I even look at this section of the forum.

(mostly)

one of us.
gooble gobble
time to migrate


ssd! i have a coach coming to the new garage(need a new name) to teach me some oly lifting on my york split sleeve. don't you want to see these shenanigans?

They won't be posted here!

[Simon Rest]

[SJB]

Band

[stuffedsuperdud]

Training has suffered (Data dump ahead):

On Friday, I had to stay late to run a time-sensitive experiment. The chilled water in the HVAC was shut down around 2PM for repairs and by 8PM the place was a goddamn inferno. Tons of instruments and machines running in the background and 90+ heat outside = sad lone researcher. Insult to injury: the vending machine wouldn't take my sweaty dollar. Passive-aggressive nitpick to insult: the machine actually owed me two dollars from the day before when my Snickers bar jammed. This is 2017, assholes. Why is this 1990's Simpsons joke still a thing?

I ended up starting Ken Burns's Vietnam War documentary, got super depressed, and had to start drinking.

On Saturday I woke up at the crack of dawn with a pounding headache but had to get up anyway because I volunteered to help load warmup bars at a local meet. Our own gym was closed by the time I got done with that.

waywt 1:
Random blue t-shirt from Gap, size M, purchased from when I was, yea, taking fashion advice from Jamie Lewis at CnP.
Adidas soccer pants that fit like tights
Killshots

Then Szymon's weird cousin Henryk wanted to go to a craft beer thing near Nats Park so off I went. Holy shit good times, with Bruery from Orange County CA bringing it home with their Grey Monday, an imperial stout hopped up on test. Henryk got wasted and at some spat a sour beer all over my face and that of some hapless stranger who gave it to him. A few hours later of moar beer and the blazing sun and I was stumbling around with a ringing headache while Henryk puked in a portajohn.

waywt 2:
Linen shirt with overly nautical stripes, HERE
Grey JCF Bleecker fit pants
Suede bucks, J.Crew 2016 line, finally picking up some character/wear

Lyudmila: "Where are you? I want to get drinks."
"Uhhhhh I'm at a thing....but I can do a thing with you if you want."
"WTF. Make up your mind for once. What's going on. And what do you want to do?"
"Uuuuugh give me a minute. I need to make my way back to my car in Georgetown. [I had been at the tailor's before heading to the beer thing.]"
"Are you drunk? Uuugh gross. Okay how about Clarendon. Want to do something in Clarendon?"
"Sure."

My phone died at this point, so I had to flag down a goddamn cab, who took the long way to Georgetown and cost me an assload of cash. I then had to walk around M Street for a bit to sober up. It's fine. Lil L lives outside the beltway and should take some time to get there, right? Anyway, got to my car, slowly made my way back to my place to change out of the sweaty beer-covered clothes.

waywt 3 because Lil L sez, "When you are out with me, you are representing me. So get your shit together.":
Navy linen blazer THIS ONE. I've been talking about how much I like it for two months and now they are sold out, so if you snoozed, you...don't have a nice cheap blazer
Pink shirt, Charles Tyrwhitt extra slim fit
Navy blue suspenders, Jos A Bank LOLWUT.. See? I am not a snob
Pewter trousers, JCF (part of a cotton suit)
AE Broadstreets

It was around then that I turned my recharged phone on and found a wall of progressively angrier texts from her to the tune of:
"I'm here."
"I got us an outside table."
"Where are you?"
"Hey it's been twenty minutes."
"DUDE! WHAT THE FUCK!"

and so on and so on. I managed to fire off a salvo of apologies explaining what happened, to no avail. In my desperation, I asked the uber driver what to do.

"Wait so you're late, and she's pissed?"
"Right."
"How long you been dating?"
"We are not."
"Oh...okay...well what's the worst that can happen today?"
"Nothing crazy. I guess she probably won't be down for the stuff she wanted to do tomorrow. No biggie."
"Bro, she has tomorrow planned out for you too?"
"Right."
".......and you're not fucking."
"Right."
"Aight man I'mma break it to you as someone who has been married for twenty years. You have a wife, bro."
"Har har. So tell me how to calm her tits. We're almost there!"
"There is nothing you can do. Or do what I do: Drive for Uber during all the hours she's awake. Works for me! Well until I get home. Then I'm going to sleep for two hours, and then she'll make me clean the house and take our middle daughter to soccer. Shit."
"Thanks chief."

Lil L was indeed pissed but I managed to coax a bunch of Malibu pineapple vodka rum things into her which helped. The next few hours were a blur but at some point I remember us getting pizza at a different part of town.

I woke up on Sunday with a massive headache and a sore throat. Checked for jizz on my tonsils, didn't find any. Too bad. Lil L was too hung over for anything and instead went on another one of her solo vision quests, driving her luxury sedan through West Virginia, leaving me with no choice but to go to brunch with a very hungover Henryk. It's fine. AYCE at Blackwall Hitch in Alexandria kicks ass, and since I know everyone who works there, all their mistaken pours ended up our hair of the dog. So a bunch of beer and one big blob of Hennessy on top of all the dollar mimosas. Yick. And like fifty raw oysters to get our money's worth. Took about five hours.

Nothing quite like stumbling into a wet hot Virginia afternoon with a bloated stomach and a pounding brain though! A wasted Henryk tried to buy a pair of Mephisto shoes and I had to smack the abominations out of his hands. In typical Asperger fashion though he was able to completely bone up on oxfords not brogues and whatnot in a few minutes.

I found myself at a Starbucks trying to shake the headache with 30 oz of nitro cold brew when Lil L reappeared:
"Come over. I'm making steaks."
"What do you mean?"
"What do you mean 'what do you mean?' Are you stupid? I'm going to get some steaks and then I'm going to grill them and then we're going to eat them."
"[Kevin Malone voice] Nice."
"Nice? What does nice mean? Okay I'm going to go buy meat now. You're hungry right? Come help me buy meat."
"Okay are you at your place?"
"Not yet. Meat me at Wegman's."
"Heh nice typo."
"What typo."

Once we were there:
"We need charcoal."
"Oh....You want to grill-grill??"
"Yea. What did you think I meant?"
"I figured you were just going to pan-fry. Or that your apartment building had one of those propane grills outside."
"Those are not grilling. Only charcoal." boing "Why are you looking at me like that? It's true. What, you think propane is grilling, huh. You Americans do this always wrong even though you think you're the experts. Same with everything else."
"Nooo...no no no I think we're good. We're green. Good to go."
"OKAY THEN."

Later I stood around like an asshole while she did all the grilling "the proper Russian way." Nailed it perfectly medium-rare. Much wine ensued. Very dry. Back to being drunk. I mentioned how my manic depressive roommate had cleaned out the liquor cabinet last week in a three-day bender (did I mention that?), and then suddenly it occurred to both of us that since her roommate wasn't home, it might be convenient to clean out their supply of wine and beer. "We'll put it all back later." The next several hours were a blur and ended up with me waking up on her couch a few hours later with the lights on, while she was sitting on the floor unconscious, propped up against a wall.

"Uuuugg why.....we have to be at work in four hours...."
"Ehhhhhhhh you know what they say....you can take the girl out of Louisiana...."
"Russia. You're from Russia."
"Fuuuck you. I'm a Southerner. Since 2005. And we're going to see all of it."
"Huh?"
"What huh? Huh huh stupid huh. What, were you just fucking with me? Can you just take things seriously for once? Please."
It was then that I remembered her talking about how she had binged all the Nicholas Sparks movies on Saturday morning and early afternoon, and noticed that they all took place in idyllic North Carolina, and then I had said something like, "Ooooh yea I've always wanted to see the Outer Banks" and then she immediately started making blurry plans for a road trip ("Asheville to Nashville, baby!"), which I guess I am doing next month. She is weirdly excited about this thing she found: Biltmore House Special Guided Tours

Almost no one showed up today because the building was now over 90F and stale due to the continued HVAC problems. I managed to sleep at my desk for an hour before training, which made me feel worse.

That's the long story for today's shitshow:

Snatch:
20kg x many many many to warm up
40x4,x3
50x3
60x3
70x3
78x2,1 missed one and had to retake
83x3
88x2 missed one
92x1,0,0,1
80x1
All the misses were backwards after I had teh weight locked out overhead. Coach said I was overly passive in catching each rep and not aggressively pounding it overhead.
"Guess what else I am not aggressively pounding?"
"Huh?"
"Nothing."
"Not nothing. I bet it's something you have to work on. But we don't have time for that now."

I am watching the shit out of Ken Burns's The Vietnam War. It's fucking good. Watch it.

[Simon Rest]

Band

I believe they were called the Wailers

[IlPrincipeBrutto]

<an long story of debauchery filled to the brim with booze>

It all read a bit like Bukowsky, but with a better snatch (cheap and trite double-entendre is deliberate).

IPB