My morning today was a brisk one, brimming with life, and it’s turned out to be a charming day as well, here in my living room with the sun spilling in through the curtains and the dogs quiet and not too damn annoying either.
I have two dogs: Lola and Chewie. They are slobbery behemoths, both of them equally coarse and offensive—utterly “adogable”, as Christine would say. They are two furry wrecking balls who trash the house at regular intervals, knocking into everything and anybody, unbiased in their destruction, and without remorse. I witnessed them murder the statue of a snail the other day, which sits on a small green coffee table in the hallway. They ploughed into the table, while romping up and down the hallway, which catapulted the snail high into the air where it did a few somersaults before coming down on its head and snapping off one of its antennas.
This is simply what happens when you buy St. Bernards wantonly. And truly I love them to pieces, though they suffer from some alarming defects pertaining to proper bathroom etiquette.
For one, Lola will drop a giant turd down like a benediction, then stomp around, and flatten the thing out. And Chewie, he has this tendency to walk and urinate at the same time, causing him to pee all over the back of his front legs. I’ve heard of Crossfitters doing this, but would expect more out of a St. Bernard.
The coffee table in our living room looks like a piece of wood gnawed by a beaver. This is Lola’s fault. We left her out of her crate and said a few prayers and came home to the house a wreck. She chewed the walls, the table, and my shoes, and even got into Christine’s purse and gobbled up a pack of sugar free gum. When we got home Christine shouted at Lola, “You should be ashamed of yourself!” which I am no doubt certain she took very deeply to heart, as she wagged her tail and awaited for a pet on the head, which I granted her.
Today I woke up, stretched myself out on the floor with a few reaches, twists, and bends (mostly hamstring and thoracic mobilization), and went right into the great destroyer. This was at six AM.
I completed one round, with dual sixteen kilograms, and swiftly concluded one round to be enough. I then worked my way through The 9-Minute Workout, just one time. I actually followed along to my own video and while watching it thought to myself, hey, who’s that guy with the cool pants.
I let the sweat beat of my brow for a moment, then wandered into the kitchen, and fixed myself a morning cocktail: branched chain amino acids and water. I am using the Vitamin Shoppe brand which is good because it’s boring; no artificial sweeteners or anything else unnecessary. Someday I will evolve to the point of selling my own supplement line, or perhaps even start taking some of the bribes thrown at me should I come into a position where the salary makes itself something of an object.
Regarding my morning fasts: If I train in the forenoon I supplement BCAA, if I do not, I do not. It is a simple matter.
Come eleven o’clock I will venture into the gym and do my strength routine. Nothing flashy, but on the menu today is this: muscle ups in the manner of 1,2,3,1,2,3; armor building, 2x28kg for a fifteen minute practice set; bear push ups, 5 x 5; and weighted chins, 1,2,3,1,2,3.
At noon, I teach. And to a very pleasant group, comprised mostly of males, an irregular constituency for my kettlebell classes, which are otherwise predominantly female. Now very rarely do I work out with my class, as my role is to coach (and I think it’s a great mistake when instructions routinely take the class they are teaching, because exercising, for the most part, impedes the task of coaching, but from time to time, I admit there is some value when the instructor enters into the workout—assuming all the participants are already competent—so that he might inspire them, if needed.), but today I might.
After this, I eat. And on the menu today I have mango chicken salad, organic macadamia nuts (raw, of course), and some fresh carrots pulverized in the Vitamix. To be clear, I’m not pulverizing all of it in the vitamix, just the carrots.
In the afternoon typically I will retire from production and switch over to a mode of study. A hard part about working for yourself is allocating the appropriate amount of time between creating and learning, as too many entrepreneurs, it seems, work far too much on working, and too little on learning. This is a mistake. Because you can only produce quality work to the degree in which you are educated. If you want to better your products and services you should spend just as much time learning as you do producing. And just one more tip, learn as much as you can about everything, do not draw yourself into a box by studying only your specialty. True originality comes when you can draw connections between two or more things unrelated. Fitness, I study the least. And not because I have nothing left to learn on it, I do, but because I have so much more to learn on everything else.
I try to devour two books each week, some new and some re-reading, and currently I am chewing on two books (perhaps you’d like to read one?).
The first is The Philosophy of Friedrich Nietzsche, by HL Mencken. Mencken is my second-favorite writer. But be careful reading too much Mencken, else you might start to sound like him (certainly I’ve been guilty of this).
You might not agree with this book. I don’t agree with all of it, but it’s worth the read, and, because it’s written by Mencken it’s marked by something missing from most books written on philosophy, which is to say, good English.
The second is The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Mark Twain is my favorite writer. Nobody is as funny as Mark Twain. I am always reading this book and with each passing I am encouraged to mark Mark Twain’s achievement higher and higher. This is more a work of philosophy than was my first recommendation and better written too.
That is an enormously bold thing to say, but I mean it.