Reply With QuoteYou might be the most interesting man in the world...Originally Posted by stuffedsuperdud
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Interesting....I'd love to see some of their training methods; must be like swinging a golf club or doing a snatch, where it looks like a super routine movement but takes goddamn forever to master.
Training:
I only had about 45 minutes so I did:
Power clean + press 1+5:
20kgx many
50x1
60x1
72x1x3 RPE = 34
Yahtzee....... The last reps of each set nearly killed me and I still have an exertion headache now, but I got them. Cleans were easy, at least, and the right elbow issues are clearing up.
Training next to a powerlifter who was doing nothing but high-bar squats for something awful, like eight sets of eight or something like that, during his hypertrophy block. Jim Steel approves. Unlike most of us, he started off with low-bar and is learning high-bar now to address some quad issues, and it seems to be working for him, so...many ways to skin a cat, I guess. Or as Steel would say, "Man, shut up, put some weight on the bar, and just squat, maaaan..."
Went to a bar with Rugby and CG the other day where the two of them actually got into a scuffle with a group of bratty Beverly Hills types partying on (sugar)daddy's dime. Part of me wanted to let it play out, because Brazzers told me that a sweaty reverse gangbang would soon follow, starring me, but cooler heads, or head, i.e. mine, prevailed and I got the two of them out of there before they could put any of the bimbos into the hospital and us onto the evening news. We ended up cooling off for a while at a nearby pizza place, and then, in a moment of extreme awkwardness, we found out that we had parked next to the girls, and arrived at our cars at the same time, only now under the crushing shame of our sobriety. God's idea of a joke, I guess. Asshole.
Last edited by stuffedsuperdud; 03-05-2016 at 03:52 AM.
Starting Strength Coach
You might be the most interesting man in the world...
Member
Pretty sure you're thinking of the guy in the actual orgy, not the one breaking up drunk chicks.....
Today was the meet. Coach was still kind of grumpy about my not lifting, but was really too excited about Girl's first meet to care. I got stuck in traffic for a bit, and then when I got to the meet, I found myself on a deserted college campus. Panicking, I ran around for a bit, until a security guard found me and golf-carted me to the gym on the other side of the school. #notallcops I got there just as she was challking up for what turned out to be her first lift. She ended up going 5/6, hitting something like 36/40/44 and 46/49/51x, with the last one a pressout similar to what I did back in September. Later I saw her explaining to her mom why she didn't get the last lift, and big mama was pissed, because she saw similarly shaky elbows being passed. C'est la vie I guess. Still she was pretty thrilled. Her -58kg category ended up being the most wildly competitive, with the top girl, a super cute chick with gigantic quads, doing something like 77/88. Later, coach saw her walking around in her bootyshorts and was like, "Mother fucker! She is -58?! HOW?!" and stormed out for a smoke. Later a centaur type chick with a tiny upper body and gargantuan quads walked by to warm some lifters up and coach casually mentioned to me that his not-so-secret fetish was to have her kick/crush him to death with her thunderthighs.
Unfortunately, while -58 was a great show, each session actually became weaker, and that same girl could have won the -63's, whose winner could have won the -69s, whose winner could have won the -75s. SHW was something else, with Pan-Am casually doing 55/75 like it was a training session, to qualify for "real meets." The one actually strong chick went 1/6, barely hitting a snatch in the 70s and bombing out on CJ because her clean technique sucked. Coach was like, "Fucking hell, what is this fucking shit? Her coach should be doing something, not just this yelling. Look how she is cleaning and she almost fail on snatches too. So strong girl, fucking waste."
Douchecanoe of the day goes to some horribly inexperienced, if not negligently, criminally crappy coach: instead of actually making meet-day adjustments, he was nervously bombarding his new lifters with unnecessary/unhelpful/irrelevant cues he heard from the interblag. Let's see how he's doing at playing CF Hipster Dingleberry bingo: beard, beanie, calf and sleeve tats, arguing with judges, "Stronger Than You" unironically on the back of his team shirt, yelling useless slogans at wired lifters to sound smart, and a complete lack of self-awareness? Check check check check check check check check check that's a BINGO + bonus points holy shit the 2008 CF Games called and they want you to knock off the turd act, buddyboy.
There was an epic moment in the room where the handful of real coaches held an impromptu conference amongst themselves while the wannabes watched in awe from the other side.
Training:
Since I didn't lift, I was fresh, right? But I only had half an hour or so so I just did:
Squat:
20kgx many
60x5
100x5
140x5
157x5x3 easier than last time's 155x5x3....160 next time, I guess.
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Been sick all week, right up till this morning, so no training. Went to a college gym this evening to try to do something. I knew that next week is finals week for these goobers, and figured the place would be empty during the last 90 minutes they were open. Nope! Party school means the week before finals is the first/last chance to lift before appearing as Background Douchebag #4 in a Girls Gone Wild video...[edit] GGW is out of business? Lame! RIP Joe Francis. The place was fucking swamped, with at least four people per squat rack, the platforms clogged with deadlifters....using just the green 10kg plates...... and the open floor had at another six barbells strewn about, with nearly all the 45s either on a bar or the floor. Fucking hell. I had just finished putting on my shoes and wraps when I had to take a call from work, and by that I mean that one of the admin ladies, a widowed mother of two girls, ages 6 and 8 or so, going through treatment for Stage 3 breast cancer, wanted to vent about how unfair everything was (and rightly so, I guess...because fuck everything). How do you say no to that?
So that wasted about 40 minutes. After getting back, I found the strongest squat group, three guys working with 185, and tried to work in. Did, with no warmup:
Pause front squat:
185x4x3
I knew anything under 275 wasn't going to do anything for me, but they were all in the 135-185 ballpark and asked if I could just let them finish first so as to avoid the excessive plate changing. In response, I noticed a guy had worked his way up to half-squatting 275, and tried him, but he told me he was just about to take the bar apart and had already promised it to three goons who had been going full-on slam-bars-kill-PRs while deadlifting octogon plates for 225. I asked them if I could work in but they told me they'll be working mostly with the empty bar for a while. Turning back, I noticed that the 185 kids had left, but now two fat guys were 1/8th squatting the empty bar together. I asked and they said the weren't going to go heavier than the bar.....why do you need the rack again? The other two racks were a few girls squatting 65lbs and their boyfriends OHP'ing the same weight, and a few guys pressing 135. LOLOL I always thought it'd be fun to be by far the strongest guy in the room, but this turned out pretty lame. I was thinking about joining the 135 people to do some presses, but the announcement came through the PA that the gym would be closing in 15 minutes, so I just showered and left. TIL that that the only thing worse than a bad training session is a non-starter one like this bullshit. Like blue balls, only you can't just go and rub one out.
Better luck tomorrow, I guess.
Last edited by stuffedsuperdud; 03-13-2016 at 01:32 AM.
Member
Back in a real gym THANK THE MAKER. Holy crap FUCK BRO GYMS. Seriously, fuck him. With dicks. In their buttholes.
I am still very much bouncing back from the nasty cold that messed me up last week, so took it kind of easy.
Pause front squat:
60kgx5
100x4
110x3
120x3
125x3
130x2x2
I probably could have turned the 130s into triples, but figured I'd take it easy.
This is cute: the rugby chick is 23 years old and away from home for the first time in her whole life, where home = Europe, and is terribly homesick all the freaken time even though she seems to have more friends here than I do, and it's not like we're in Smallville, ND or something. Eh, different strokes, I guess. In any case, this struck a huge chord with CG, who herself had come alone to the US for school when she was 20 and apparently was lonely and miserable the entire first year, so now she's in full-blown Big Sister mode 24/7. That is to say, I haven't seen CG in days, because the other day they went "boy-watching" in Hollywood (wtf....) and tonight they are having a sleepover with Disney movies and PJs. It was adorable so of course I had to ask if I could watch and quietly jerk off in the corner. Now they're not talking to me...it's fine I have a kink.com subscription.
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This damn cold just refuses to leave me alone, but at least I've entered the "five minutes in the morning clearing overnight phlegm" end-game. Jack and I made another trip to the ivory tower to meet up with some professors and help them convince accepted PhD applicants to matriculate at our esteemed institution. Ended up getting getting beer and pub grub with our advisor, which took until around 11:30. The nearest global is open till 1, so I thought about it for a sec and told Jack I'd catch up with him later. Ended up going to the gym, changing into nasty old shorts I had in the trunk of my car, taking a gigantic dump, and getting my wraps and shoes on.
It was around 12:20 when I started, so I did, as fast as possible:
warmup,
45lb x5
135x5
225x4
315x3
335x1
Was definitely sucking wind by now, and my heart rate would not drop below about 120bpm for the duration.
Followed with:
350x5x3 with 5-minute breaks. Set 1 was flying, but the last rep of set 2 was ugly. Set 3 I managed to pull together a mental, got my heart rate up to over 180bpm, and tore through all five reps.
Had to run to check out a towel, strip down, shower, dry off, and get dressed in the ten minutes the gym had left. Stumbled out into the parking lot sweating George Costanza style ("It didn't take!"), stood there for a moment, and puked in my mouth a bit. Choked it all back down, took a swig of water, and GTFO. My heart rate didn't get back to resting until after about thirty minutes in the car. Adrenaline is a wonderful thing, eh?
Amusing: You know how every single preppy country club douchebag in every coming of age movie is wearing the same double-breasted blue blazer? I set a few search parameters in ebay a while back and today struck the motherlode:
^As worn by the man himself
Yessir, a nearly new (because how often do these things get worn, really?) Polo Ralph Lauren double breasted blazer, made in Italy of fine European wool, wide razor-sharp peak lapels, big gold buttons, the whole shebang, formerly owned by someone with my exact measurements, all for $15, free S&H. Now I just need to join a country club. Or a yacht club. Or something. In the meantime, it'll be fun out-assholing VCs Erlich Bachmann style. Will let you guys know how my low-level trolling goes.
Related: I am finally watching Mad Men after years of my friends pestering me about it. It's aight, I guess. Note: Seems like Roger Sterling has the best wardrobe, whereas our hero Don wears the same flannel suit all the time, and doesn't even feel comfortable in it. Am I missing something here? Also, three piece suits + 10AM whiskey in a New York summer? How are they not sweating bullets all day?
Show's a pretty grim depiction of the human condition, but I guess the whole point of marketing is to fuel our doomed quests for happiness, right?
Last edited by stuffedsuperdud; 03-17-2016 at 03:37 AM.
Member
I had the very same cold.
New season soon I believe....it will be a race to compare your exploits.In the meantime, it'll be fun out-assholing VCs Erlich Bachmann style. Will let you guys know how my low-level trolling goes.
You are very astute, I did not pick up on that at all when I started watching it. Give it a couple seasons and it will make sense to you why Don doesn't quite fit in.Related: I am finally watching Mad Men after years of my friends pestering me about it. It's aight, I guess. Note: Seems like Roger Sterling has the best wardrobe, whereas our hero Don wears the same flannel suit all the time, and doesn't even feel comfortable in it. Am I missing something here?
It was pre-global-warming so NYC was much cooler. Also I assume that between the booze and the smoking they have zero actual liquid water inside their bodies.Also, three piece suits + 10AM whiskey in a New York summer? How are they not sweating bullets all day?
The quest for happiness is doomed regardless of marketing, no? Also it gets grimmer.Show's a pretty grim depiction of the human condition, but I guess the whole point of marketing is to fuel our doomed quests for happiness, right?
Member
Quick training:
Front squat:
60kg x5
100x4
110x3
125x3
130x3x2 whew....next time 135
Yesterday, went out with CG and Rugby....during which CG and I found out how old we were....... We went to dinner at a British pub and then to the Santa Monica Pier (referenced by me in June 2014....scroll back some....) where the Rugby chick complained incessantly about how this was boring. We asked her what she liked to do and she said, "You know, fun stuff, like get drunk and then go clubbing and dance and get drunk again." Cute, I remember being 22, but for some reason, these days, cramming myself nuts to butts with hundreds of other sweaty "we're gonna get some pussy!" douchebags and giggly chicks cockteasing for attention in a smoky little fire hazard of a room as bad music throbbed against my throat didn't sound like a whole lot of fun. Finally, CG tried to explain that in America, clubs are less fun and more icky than in Provence, which shut her up a bit. The whole time though, while Rugby tried to amuse herself running up and down the pier, CG was just trying to stay awake (at 10PM on a Friday....yea she fails.....) while I was thinking about work and my taxes. Quite frankly though, I'd rather be this than directionless, confused, and 23 again. Youth surely is wasted on the young.
Today, to celebrate our newfound geezerhood, CG and I.......went to Brooks Brothers! I've actually never been there before, because I figured BB was the sort of place you go to because your parents took you there to buy your first suit when you were six to go to the country club picnic and it became all you know.....and I didn't get my first suit until I was 19 years old, a $130 black three-button affair from Men's Wearhouse, for my grandma's funeral. NB: my dad bought his first suit that same day....an identical number, only with a much smaller chest.....so you can take a guess at how often my blue-collar family had any reason or desire to dress all fancy-like. Anyhoo, CG was like, "Oh cool, so this is where senators' sons shop or something?" when we walked in. She took a stroll around, frowned her way through the women's section, came back, and concluded, "Okay I get it now. This is for white people who don't plan on having sex ever again for the rest of their lives." Then she looked at me and went, "What happened, dude!?! You used to just wear your ratty gym clothes everywhere [I was in grad school when we met, i.e. trapped in a lab all day and night, + I lifted at a dinky little gym with no locker room] and now you're off to summer in the Hamptons or something! What's next, marrying a Kennedy? A Congressional run leading up to a shot at the White House?! Who ARE you??"
Anyhoo I actually really liked the theme they're going for but for the most part, the quality : price ratio just wasn't that great as far as I could tell; would be glad for someone to correct me though. I ended up getting a pair of chinos because by some miracle, their "Clark" fit matches my rise and thighs perfectly, + it was only $10 to have the inseam adjusted, but I left it at that. There was an amusing little situation though where a Beverly Hills mom brought in her son, a slouchy little goober with skinny jeans and an overpriced haircut, so that she could buy him a blue blazer for school. Just like in the movies!
Last edited by stuffedsuperdud; 03-20-2016 at 03:09 AM.
Member
Didn't get much sleep last night so I figured training would be a wash. Went to a globo and forgot my chalk, to boot. Did:
Muscle snatch + OHS 3+3
40kgx1
50x1
60x1
70 x couldn't muscle snatch it. Power cleaned it instead and got it onto my back, but without chalk, was not strong enough to grip it overhead and my hands kept on sliding out of the ends of the bar. Screwed it.
Clean pulls:
100kgx5
120x4
150x2
Deadlift:
160x5
165x5
Traps roasted already.
Just figured out my housing situation starting in about a month: I'll be living in a one-story house near DC with three women in their 20s....and am old enough to know how unsexy that sort of thing is in real life. Stories to follow.
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