Training Without Calves (or, Cows With Guns)

See what I did there? Okay, well it sounded funny at the time*.

I have been lying in bed recovering from my torn calf for the last week and a half (grrrrr…). Being the fitness-addicted idiot that I am, I decided that it was time to get back to exercising before I went stir crazy. Here is the routine I worked out to ease myself back into the big stuff:

  • 3 sets of sit ups (40 reps per set) – core/abs
  • 3 sets of push ups (15 reps per set) – chest/arms
  • 3 sets of bicep curls (10 reps per set) – upper arms
  • 3 sets of tricep extensions (10 reps per set) – triceps
  • 3 sets of dips (10 reps per set) – chest/triceps
  • 3 sets of bent over rows (10 reps per set) – back (make sure you are supported so there’s no weight on the offending leg)
  • 3 sets of pull ups (10 reps per set) – back

I do warm ups/stretching before starting. You will note this is all upper body (I’m a fitness idiot, but I’m not stupid). Avoid leg work for a few weeks (if you regularly work out you will know it is an in-joke that most gym heads avoid leg work like the plague, so it shouldn’t be too hard…). Remember: If you have a torn calf, do NOT stretch your calf unnecessarily while exercising – you risk tearing it again. If you feel any strain on said calf (it will ‘moo’ at you – just kidding), cease and desist immediately.

This work out is pretty easy considering what I did prior to my injury (you can check out some of my workouts here), but I’m taking it slow to start with.

Ahhhhhhh…I’m feeling better already (the calf’s not, but you know what I mean).

Health Warning: I’m not a doctor (despite past girlfriends assuming I was a gynecologist), so if you aren’t used to training, or if you have torn your calf, make sure you consult with a real doctor (no, not your workout buddy at the gym) before attempting any new training routine.

 

* Didn’t get the reference? Do yourself a favour and check out ‘Cows with Guns’ below:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FQMbXvn2RNI

The Wall Between. A poem.

I built a wall
Between the two
A wall to separate
The me and the you
Bricks and mortar
High as the clouds
And when I was finished
It stood tall and proud

But even with a wall
I could feel you there
So I watched the wall
With a longing stare
Because I realised then
It was my mistake
To try to interfere
With the path of fate

But the wall was built
And you drifted away
And before I knew it
It was far too late

So next time you try
To protect your heart
Tear down the wall
That keeps you apart

Elemental. A poem.

If you were all the elements
Of the earth, air, water, fire
You would still be more than all combined
You would shake the earth and change the tides
Be the greatest storm and the hottest pyre
And I would still worship you from afar
The deepest truth and the deepest lie

Lightning. A poem.

The words flow
Like raindrops before the storm
Then the downpour
No stopping them
And why stop?
When the muse hits
Like a lightning strike
All I can do
Is write

Awards! Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em

I have been nominated for the Real Neat Blog award by Alma at Bookish Endeavours. Thank you, Alma; I most graciously accept your nomination in the most pretentious and snooty way possible (I bow, like that guy on Sleepy Hollow. It was cancelled. Oh, I’m sorry everyone, too soon?).

Being as unaccustomed to fame (and the lack of it) as I am, I have decided to post this award with my many (read: few) others, answer your delightful questions (in a pretentious and snooty way) and nominate several other worthy blogs.

The rules are simple: two go in, only one comes out. Or something like that.

Oh, sorry, that’s Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome (showing my vintage, there). Back in the days before Mel Gibson imploded.

Actually, the rules are more like this:

  • Put the award logo on your blog
  • Thank the people who nominated you, linking to their blogs
  • Answer 7 questions asked by the person who nominated you
  • Nominate any number of bloggers you like, linking to their blogs
  • Let them know you nominated them (by commenting on their blog, etc)
  • Ask your nominees 7 questions

I’m worn out already. You have to remember, I’m laid up in bed with a torn calf muscle. It’s not fun. And I’m feeling my age for the first time in my life.

So here are the questions I have to answer. If you have seen my previous answers to awards (here and here), you’ll know I tend to go on a bit.

My nominees and my questions are further below.

 ANSWERS!

One fictional character that you hate and why?

Alpha Girl. She is my arch nemesis-sis-sis. Say that five times fast. I dare you.

If you could have one superpower, what would it be?

If I was normal, I’d say flying or something like that. But as I’m not: an automatic umbrella that pops out of my head when it rains. Or when I see people I really don’t want to talk to.

Actually, I’d like the power to light my own farts, but instead of a little flash, a huge firestorm would erupt. Okay, that’s a bit stupid. I’d be burning down everything in sight. Maybe it could work like a flame thrower? More selective with targets, that sort of thing.

Maybe I should quit while I’m ahead.

Marvel or DC?

When it comes to comics: DC all the way. Their Rebirth initiative had me at ‘Hello’.

When it comes to movies, DC and Marvel. They each have different styles – DC is a bit grittier, Marvel’s a bit funnier. Yes, it’s possible to love both, people!

Pretzels or bagels?

Bagels aren’t that big in Australia. Not in size, I  mean, but popularity (imagine if bagels were tiny little things – how would you butter them?). I love pretzels, but I’m talking about the little ones, not the big ones you guys in America have. We’re all topsy-turvy down here.

And do not say ‘down under’, or I will be forced to decapitate you. With a tiny, razor sharp bagel.

What is your go-to coffee order?

Long Black. Very unpretentious. I drink coffee for the taste of the coffee. Adding milk, chocolate, caramel, crème, egg, enchiladas, dog biscuits (or whatever they add now) is just spoiling it.

The problem with drinking long blacks is it’s easier to tell when the barista has screwed it up.

“I love the smell of coffee in the morning. Unless you’ve burnt it, damn you!”

How did you decide that you’d be starting a blog on WordPress?

I was a sad sack who wanted a public place where I could post sad stuff about my sad life. It was cathartic.

And sad, when you think about it.

One movie that you can re-watch?

I have so many…Alien, Blade Runner, Star Wars, The Accidental Tourist, Man of Steel, Memento, The Dark Knight, Unbreakable, Arrival. The list goes on…

I would hate to be in a movie. Maybe I am. Maybe my life is actually a movie, and I’m just the understudy (do they even have those in movies? No, that’s plays). That would explain a lot.

NOMINEES

https://lilpickmeup.com/

https://nicolesundays.wordpress.com/

https://dpadjoy.com/

https://littlefears.co.uk/

https://thelonelyreaderblog.wordpress.com/

https://bennettoblog.wordpress.com/

QUESTIONS (for nominees to answer)

  1. If you were a pizza, what type would you be? If you answer ‘plain cheese’ you should give up blogging altogether. Just saying.
  2. You have just won the gold medal for mawkish pretentiousness. What’s your speech? It has to be in the third person, just to make it more obnoxious.
  3. You have a choice to save the world, or save your pet. Which do you choose? If you don’t have a pet, you may save your favourite DVD. But not the DVD player. That’s going just a bit too far.
  4. If you were to make a movie about someone famous, who would it be and who would star in it? If they starred as themselves, would the production implode in some kind of freaky mirror-dimensional paradox? Or would they multiplex into multiple versions of themselves and play all the parts? I don’t know, you’re answering the question.
  5. Desert island: you can take one thing. Yes, it can be your girlfriend or boyfriend. But if you had a choice, would you take them? Maybe there’s only enough food for one. What happens then, huh? And if the two of you only had each other to talk with, how long would you last before it turned into The Hunger Games? Didn’t think that one through, did you?
  6. Have you heard of that old BBC show The Onedin Line? If you say yes, you’re lying. Yes, it’s an actual show. Google it. I’m not doing all the work, you know.
  7. What’s your favourite colour (that’s English spelling, not American). Why so boring a question? Because I haven’t finished. Now that you’ve told us your favourite colour, imagine the world in only that colour. Everything! Walls, floors, cars, people, dogs, cats, fields, countries, sky…how long until you absolutely hate that colour, eh? Burn!

Thanks for the nomination, Alma!

If you liked what you read (or even if you didn’t), please support my narcissism by following my blog. I don’t make any money out of it, but it keeps me from being sad(der). All it takes is a click – save a depressed person today!

Cheers

Steve 😊

Sorry. A poem.

Sorry is all I can say, but it’s not enough
Ordinary words seem out of place, and no
Remedy to everything you think and feel
Remember I wasn’t always what you imagine me now to be
Yell at me, from this guilt I won’t be freed

The Example. A poem.

I watched TV
Saw an interesting story
A man with no arms and legs
Overcoming every challenge
Every adversity
And I thought to myself
In a moment of epiphany
If he can do the things he does
Without a fuss, without complaint
Then surely I can rise above
My own misbegotten woes
I’m no saint
I’m no fool
But I’ve screwed up my life
Worse than most do
But time has come
To follow the example
Set by a man with no hands or feet
Who walks tall without them
And who lives life
As it’s meant to be lived

The Sale. Part 7. A short story.

The musty corridor receded into the darkness. Silas, holding his lighter aloft, turned and beckoned me to follow. I trailed him as he crept forward, sweeping dusty cobwebs from the way as he went.

Before long we came to a ladder marking the end of the passage. It led up into the dark and down through a square-cut hole in the floor to the depths below. “We have a choice, sir,” said Silas, glancing up and down. “Which way do you suggest?”

I eyed the ladder, touching the rungs gingerly; they were cold, metallic. “This ladder is made of metal. And it’s not rusted.”

Silas peered more closely. “So it is, sir.”

“Looks like stainless steel,” I said. “Not the sort of material available in Civil War days.”

“Curious. Perhaps it was added at some later date.”

Something wasn’t adding up here. “I don’t even want to think about what’s below this house. Let’s go up.”

“After you, sir.”

I  smiled. “No, I insist. After you.”

Silas climbed creakily up the ladder, awkwardly cradling his lit lighter as he did. He climbed more slowly than he walked, each rung a superhuman effort. I started up after him.

Eventually Silas reached the floor above: another dim, mouldy corridor receding left and right. More cobwebs. I pulled myself up and stood beside him (his prodigious height made me feel like a dwarf).

“So many choices, sir.” He smiled, showing whitened teeth.

“There must be a way out somewhere,” I said. “Let’s try left.”

The left corridor ended after twenty feet. “It’s the back of a secret door, sir.” Of course it was the back of a secret door. What else would I expect to find in this crazy house?

“I can’t hear anything, sir.”

“Then let’s get out of here.”

The door opened into a master bedroom, illuminated from above by a chandelier. It was lavishly appointed (if a bit old and worn) with a four-poster bed, antique cupboards and dresser, with floors of  polished wood. I slipped over and tried one of the windows. It slid open, but the shutters beyond wouldn’t budge. “The shutters are jammed.” I tried another. Same thing. “This one, too. What the hell is going on here?”

Silas looked suitably vacant. “I’m not sure, sir.”

I sat on the edge of the bed. “How am I going to get out of here?”

Cold fingers grabbed my lower leg. I screamed.

To be continued…

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