Saturday In The Park...

5PM
I'm pretty sure I pushed myself to the limit today. Panting. Sweating and hurting. I started doing pullups before anyone even showed. Really dumb. Put a lot of pressure in my lower abs. Something that isn't developed. Let's back track a little bit to earlier in the day...

12:30PM decided to make myself eggs, mushrooms, red bell pepper and leftover beef from a salad that a friend gave me from work. It was tasty.

2:00PM drove around looking for a keg and 5 gallon water bottle to slam. We'd watched "Rocky Balboa" what the hell. It was a lot more difficult to locate than I thought. I got so sidetracked and drove all over Van Nuys and Sherman Oaks trying to find these stupid things. I gave up when I saw Fatburger. Anyone native to Los Angeles seem to have two burger choices. They say In-N-Out or Fatburger. I guess people are suppose to decide what type of person you are based on that. Elvis or Beatles? Sammy Haggar or David Lee Roth? And so forth.

For me, it's Fatburger. Love their fat fries. Love that they put egg on it. So I stop and eat a fatburger with egg, relish, tomato, mustard and onions. Very tasty. No fries on this one. After satiated...it was time to celebrate with a cigar. 'Cause nothing says conquering fatburger like a fat stogie.

I go to a place called The Cigar Warehouse, here in the valley. This place is so inviting. Everything about this says clubhouse. It's crowded on Saturday. I sit and watch the game while smoking the house special. Everyone is a character there. And everyone tells jokes. Or knock each other around. The comraderie is great. I sit around and laugh between puffs.

I see the time is 3:30PM, so I leave to get ready for the Ludus.

When I get home, I have this intense sense of fatigue. And for some reason, I have this overwhelming need to chow down on strawberries and yogurt. That's exactly what I do, before I pass out. But I don't sleep. I daze in and out of consciousness until a fellow workout buddy texts me that he will be arriving soon. Arriving? Apparently I had completely forgot that we had told him we had duped him to believing the workout was earlier so that he would arrive on time. Well, I never want to be a liar, so I hauled ass to the field. That's when I realized no one was there. And the pullups.

Usually I suck some caffeine before working out. I have breathing problems. Anemic too. When Mike arrives, we decide to do our lift-heavy-and-sprint routine. We've added the reward of slamming the tire with the sledgehammer as an extra thing. Then we sprint back. Quite stupid. Extremely effective. I sucked so much air I thought my lungs would collapse. On my elbows I go into twitches. It's a searing pain. The sun doesn't help. I wave blindly for the next person to start. Now...we have another guy show up now...he's a bit overweight, as he's never worked out like this before. Or, it seems, ever. He's got so much heart. I can't believe how much he's put himself thru. He does this routine, and I thought he'd be sucking wind. Yes, he was...but he had a smile plastered to his face. Inspiring. I love that more than anything. His next response "what's next?"

We both decided to do 100 pushups. He did it. So much heart.

The Tabattas killed me this time. Mid-way thru I felt some percolating in my lower stomach. You know that nausea that you know is about to destroy your dignity? I was about to blast my shorts. Something kept me upright though. I have no dignity, so it couldn't be that. Maybe, it's because I wanted to complete the set. But...I half-assed them. I walked away so disappointed. And still wanting to crap my pants. I laid down so sick of my body betraying me. Percolating gut be damned.

The worst thing I ever experienced. We attached the long tow to the short tow...and dragged 100 lbs. IT is the worst thing ever. I tied the harness to my waist and leaned forward and dug in. One excruciating step after another. The 40 yards ahead of me, may have been a mile. My legs were spaghetti. Mmmm...spaghetti. My knees felt like buckling. I kid you not, I grabbed grass to pull myself forward. Every inch, meant inches on the return. I looked over to the apartment complexes surrounding us, and there was a few people watching from the balcony. I mean, who doesn't like to watch torture and public flogging? When I got to the end, it just meant I had to return. I looked down at the ground. What is there to think?...no one is going to do this for me. So I began my trek back. Step by agonizing step. Sun beating down on me. The ground turning into a multi-color field of pain. Step. Pain. Step. Pain. I hear my workout buddies shouting and cheering. Just a few more feet and this will end. It needs to end. The final surge crosses the line and I collapse. Belt attached. I turn over. Arms above my head so as to not vomit. And then I feel a pull. My workout buddy is releasing the harness off me and I am powerless to do anything. Yet, I turn over to enjoy the pain he's about to experience.