Dumbbell In One Hand, Controller In the Other

I just spent three hours playing L.A. Noire on my Xbox 360.

I'm okay with that.

A lot of people seem to have a pretty negative view of gamers.  When they visualize a guy who spends any amount of time playing video games, they see some fat, greasy nerd in his parents' basement on his 27th straight hour of playing World of Warcraft (and, resultantly, his 27th straight hour without showering).

Needless to say, they aren't known as being the epitome of health and fitness.

And while it's certainly true that there are people out there who prioritize video games over, say, brushing their teeth, this just isn't the case for most of us.  In fact, I think there's at least one common trait between gamers and people who partake in strength training.

I want you to think back to when you were a child.  Remember when you were little and you dreamed of slaying monsters, fighting evil and rescuing damsels in distress?  Well, some of us never stopped dreaming.  Heroism is etched into our very souls, and deep down we know we were meant for something great.  Video games offer a glimpse into a world where we have the chance, a place where we can confront evil, whether it be with our quick wit or a broadsword.

As for training, it can bring us a little closer to being able to perform such actions.  We train because the part of us that dreamed of undertaking great deeds never died.  Every time we hit a new personal record or look into the mirror and notice how much our bodies have improved, we know that we've leveled up in life.

I think that gamers and weightlifters alike have that itch for greatness; the need to be ready for the dragon attack, the zombie apocalypse, or, hell, when Bowser steals your woman.

So if you're reading this and you're an avid gamer, I propose that you start a diet and training program and not only be a hero in spirit, but be able to look and perform the part as well.

If you're already a fitness-minded individual, pick up a controller and come closer than ever before to fulfilling your fantasy of saving the world.

I'm not saying there's an impending zombie apocalypse or anything, but I'm going to need all of you to be ready, just in case.

Yes, I realize there are those guys out there who work out solely because of their own insecurities.  They feel tiny inside so they try to compensate by getting big and strong enough to become the bully.  They're the villains.  The Horde Orc that hides in the woods, waiting for low-level Alliance to run by.  The Sith that enjoys burning Rebels to a crisp with Force lightning, completely unprovoked.  These men are the Yang to our Yin.  The Biff to our Marty.  The... Skeksis to our Gelflings?

And then there are those of you who play video games, because, well, it's fun.  You don't play Mass Effect as yourself, and make decisions that you would make if you were actually in that situation.  It's purely for the escapism, and I'm fine with that.  It's kinda hard to be the hero in games like Grand Theft Auto IV, but I play them anyway because it's a damned good time.

My point is, don't ever let anyone make you feel ashamed for doing something that you love to do.  Just don't lose sight of all else (I've been guilty of this myself).  If you start neglecting your friends, family and significant other because you're too wrapped up in Black Ops, it's time to back off a bit and redirect your focus.  This of course goes for everything in life: games, work, the gym -- don't let it consume you.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I still need to work out before I go to work.

It's all about balance, baby.

An Adventure of Epic Proportions, Part 2: The Sweet Beast of Slow Death

The introduction to this story can be found here.

Kittoe laughed heartily.  "It has been too long since I have felt the glory of battle.  Let us partake in a strength tonic to ready us for the journey ahead!"

"Barkeep!  Two blueberry protein smoothies!"

The bartender hurriedly scuffled to the back room, as to not keep the paladin waiting.  There was a loud humming noise not unlike the growl of a dying goblin, and seconds later he approached us with two tall mugs filled with some kind of thick, blue liquid.

I hesitantly took a sip of this strange beverage, wondering if Kittoe was, in fact, trying to poison me.  To my surprise, the drink wasn't half bad.  I chugged it as if there were gold at the bottom, and almost immediately felt a surge of power through my entire body.  I arose from my stool, raised the empty mug to the sky and let out a battle cry I didn't even know I was capable of producing, then threw the mug to the floor, shattering it.

Again, Kittoe burst into a hearty laughter.

"I call it the Smoothie Burst.  It was first introduced to me by an old friend of mine, the mage Tejeda.  Its effects will only last a few hours, so let us be on our way!"

As we exited the tavern, it wasn't but a few seconds before a haggardly-looking woman ran to us and stumbled to her knees.

"Please, you must help my husband!  I don't know what to do!"

"What is it, woman?  What has happened?" Kittoe said as he took her by the hand, pulled her to her feet and looked into her eyes with genuine concern.

"We were travelling through the forest when my husband discovered a strange food on the ground.  It was round, with a hole in the middle and covered in a white dust.  They seemed to be making a trail that led us off our path.  I begged him to stop eating them and following where these "Dough-nuts", as he called them, led, but it was as though he was under a spell!

"My husband, Bradyn, followed the trail for what must have been weeks, gorging himself on these odd foods until he came upon the lair of an awful beast.  I fear the worst!"

Kittoe's expression suddenly turned from one of concern to one of fury and anger.

"A Diabetus.  Disgusting, vile things.  They prey on the gluttonous nature of humans.  Fortunately for you, miss, they take their time when devouring their victims, and are not immortal.  We shall save your husband!"

Kittoe took her hand.  "What be your name?"

"Lorella.  I shall show you the way."

Lorella accompanied Kittoe and I,  leading us through the woods to the lair of the Diabetus.  It was a long journey and if it were not for the dire circumstances, it would have been quite peaceful and relaxing for the forest was quite beautiful.  As we approached the cave in which the monster dwelled, I was almost overwhelmed by the unmistakable smell of baked goods and death.

We entered the cave and made our way through, with my hand gripping the hilt of my broadsword and Kittoe with his hammer readied.  Breads, cakes and various pastries lined the walls and ceiling, tempting us to halt our attack and take the Diabetus' bait.

"We mustn't," whispered Kittoe, as to not alert the beast of our presence.  "There will be a day for us to partake in such things; today is not that day."

As we reached what seemed to be the end of the corridor, we came upon a large room that was much like the hall that led to it. Piles of "dough-nuts", chocolates and barrels full of sugary potions with no health benefits whatsoever.  Across the room from us and against the wall was a throne comprised of tiny, candied fish of various colors.  It looked delicious.

Perched on the throne was a beast I thought to be only a myth taught to children so they wouldn't eat too many breads and sweets.  The Diabetus was, as Kittoe said, a vile beast, taking a form not unlike a goblin, only it stood taller than both of us and had a black color to its skin and the area surrounding it that was similar to the darkness of a moonless winter night.  Its appearance was both evil and inviting, two characteristics most dangerous if combined.

"Bradyn!"

Lorella ran to her husband, who sat in chains at the side of the Diabetus, staring blankly.  She was thrown back by a burst of what appeared to be the darkest of magics.

A soft growl echoed throughout the cavern.

"I've been waiting for you two.  Matt Kittoe!  I knew you'd be back."

As I helped Lorella to her feet, I shot Kittoe a look of surprise and confusion.  His head lowered in shame.  "Yes, I almost let myself be enslaved by the monster.  I narrowly escaped, and hoped I would never need think of it again."  His head raised and he gazed at the beast with a new-found sense of purpose.  "I know now that the Diabetus cannot be ignored.  Unless we act, people will continue to suffer in its clutches."

I drew my broadsword and charged toward the Diabetus.  As I attempted to plunge my sword deep into the heart of the beast, it shattered, leaving me defenseless.  Before I could sidestep or backdash, I was gripped by the neck and lifted into the air.  The Diabetus sighed.

"Is this the best cohort you could gather, Kittoe?"



An unfamiliar voice shouted from the shadows.

"Enough!"

A cloaked being emerged.  Upon removing its hood, Kittoe recognized an old friend.

"Tejeda!?  Have you been there the whole time?"

Tejeda, a dark figure of average height and hair as black as midnight, kept his eyes focused on The Diabetus.

"That is unimportant.  We cannot defeat it with mere steel.  Only with the willpower of its living victims can this thing be weakened!"

Bradyn, still chained to the wall, looked up at his wife, then Tejeda with eyes full of sudden determination.

"I'll do whatever it takes."

Tejeda positioned his hands and feet in a spellcasting stance and started conjuring.  A ball of  blue light grew between his palms and he said the words:

"Knowledgus exerciso!"

The ball of light shot from Tejeda's hands across the room and into Bradyn's head.  He shook his head almost violently, rubbed his eyes and smiled as he dropped to the floor and started pushing his body upward, then letting it drop.

Up, down, up, down.

The Diabetus shrieked in pain.  "What have you done to me!?"

Kittoe turned his glance to Tejeda, who was now conjuring a ball of pure yellow light.  "It is working!"

"Knowledgus nutritionus!"

Kittoe and I watched as Bradyn absorbed the second ball of light. Tejeda walked over to Bradyn and offered him a small, cup-shaped cake.

Bradyn declined.  "No thanks, I'm watching my sugar intake."

Now the Diabetus was weakened to the point that it could barely stand.

"This isn't over.  I'll be back for you, Bradyn.  You can't keep this up forever!"

Kittoe reached for his minotaur-skin flask, uncorked it and took a long drink.  He dropped the flask to the ground and a bright blue liquid poored out, staining the rock beneath him.

The Smoothie Burst.

He gripped his hammer tight and leaped into the air, raising the Blog over his head and letting out a loud roar.  He brought the mighty weapon down on the beast's head, breaking the Diabetus into hundreds of shards of pitch-black darkness before they faded into nothingness.

Lorella pulled at Bradyn's chains, trying to release him.  Still dizzy, I attempted to break his shackles to no avail.  Tejeda stepped over to us and unlocked them with a snap of his fingers.

Bradyn shook Tejeda's hand vigorously.  "Thank you so much.  All of you.  You saved my life."

Tejeda, ignoring Bradyn's gratitude, stared into his eyes with a face that was almost expressionless.  "I only planted the seeds of knowledge in you.  I suggest you water them and retain the fruit, for I won't be here to aid you should you return to the ways that got you here in the first place."

And without bidding us farewell, Tejeda returned to the shadows from whence he came.

Kittoe and I escorted Lorella and Bradyn back to the village and let them buy us a round of blueberry protein smoothies before we said our goodbyes and rented rooms at the inn for the night.

The next morning, Kittoe and I made our way out of the village, looking forward to the feeling of grass under our feet and the blood of the wicked staining our blades.  At this time, there was no need to speak.  We looked at each other, then the village behind us and realized this was only the first of many adventures to come.

Life is good.

Turning Hesitation into Meditation into Inspiration: An Email From Gregg Avedon

Awhile back I decided to reach out to Gregg Avedon, one of the guys who inspired me to, well, become awesome.

I sent him an email with all the usual fanboy stuff, telling him how much of an inspiration he's been to me, how he's pretty much got the life I want, I imagine his face on women's bodies when I have sex, blah blah blah, you know how it is.

(Okay, okay.  Not the last one.  Not all the time, anyway.)

I ended the email with two questions:

"When you were first starting out, did you ever doubt yourself or your
ability to achieve your goals? If so, how did you quash those doubts?"

The next morning I checked my email and discovered Gregg had not only replied to my email, but had put an almost overwhelming amount of thought and detail into his response:

Matt,


First of all, I appreciate the kind words and it's great to hear that you're striving to achieve your goals and working to get better every day! As for your question, sure. What you're feeling is very normal. EVERYONE has self doubt at some level, no matter what they seem like on the outside, there's always that small voice inside trying to cast doubt over you. Some people are much better at controlling that voice inside. Their drive for success outweighs everything else. But the truth is that not everyone is built this way.


One thing that you can do is to start working on how you see yourself, how you speak to yourself (inside your head), and start to truly believe that you have the power within to accomplish your goals. You've got to believe it because you can't count on anyone else to do it for you. When we're younger we tend to think that we can do or be anything and then life happens and we become conditioned to think that there are limititations to what we can do, who we can become, and that ultimately effects the person that we become.


I've always said this and it's so true...that we spend the first quarter of our lives putting up walls and the rest of our lives trying to take them down. Things that happen in your life will create that self doubt in you and in how you view your personal ability to accomplish things.


I suggest that you spend some time alone and somewhere quiet outside where you can really connect to your higher self. I know this can sound odd if you're not used to doing this, but it will help. While outside and quiet begin to just concentrate on your breathing...in and out, in and out, your stomach rising and falling, your chest rising and falling. This will help you clear your mind and begin to center yourself. Start to notice everything around you...the trees, the leaves, the wind, the birds...everything. Begin to realize that you're a part of everything around you. Start to see your authentic self and feel your own power within. Know that the possibilities are endless. Know that you are unlimited potential. Keep breathing and allowing yourself to feel this power move through you. Know that you have full control over your actions.


Do this every day...it only takes 10 minutes and you will begin to feel more and more connected to yourself and everything around you. You will begin to realize that you have the power to achieve your goals. Don't let anyone take that power away from you...with their words or actions. In fact, don't even talk to others that you can't trust with your feelings and dreams who may cast any doubt in the fact that you can accomplish them. You will become a walking example of accomplising exactly what you set out to do and people will see it. People will want a piece of that and those same people who might doubt you will now be asking you what it is that you do to stay so fit, to accomplish your goals...they will want to be more like you!


I hope that doesn't sound WAY OUT THERE for you. The bottom line is that I want to see you take your own power and make it happen for yourself, because you hold all the cards...you've just got to believe.


All the best Matt,


Gregg

What a guy.

Unfortunately he made these suggestions to me during the dead of winter, but I let it slide as he lives in Florida and I'm assuming it's easy to forget the rest of the country is snowed-in when you're laying out on the beach.

Gregg is most definitely the real deal, and, as lame as it sounds, him and his website will always hold a special place in my heart (stop giggling) because his diet advice and the workouts on his site (for lack of a better term) changed my life.

He also released a book a couple of years back with some pretty sweet recipes called Muscle Chow.

To learn more about Gregg Avedon click here.

Honestly, the videos on his Home page crack me up.

I'm Back, Baby!

It's been a good week.

And not just because last night some sort of genetically-modified super-cougar raised her glass to mine and said, "To you and me and the prospect of a good fuck sometime."

It was just as awkward as it was flattering.

No, I'm talking about fitness.  Last week I covered exactly what I had been doing for the last three weeks in order to get completely off-track and gain 4 lbs. of pure, squishy fatness.  I ate a shit-ton of delicious ice cream, only trained about once a week and adopted an extremely negative attitude.  I was tired, bloated and depressed.

No more.


Starting Monday, I jumped back on track and stayed there.  I started The Superhero Workout, and only ate good, wholesome food, keeping the carbs low at all times other than breakfast and post-workout.  I've already lost a few pounds of fat, water and various body garbage, and that makes me all the more excited to keep this going and share my experience with others.  In fact, I checked myself out in a public bathroom last night and (through the reclaiming of my self image) popped a boner.

There I was, standing in the middle of the men's bathroom at Brewski's, staring at the shiny golden god in my reflection with only a thin layer of denim restraining my erection.

And so I decided to take pictures of everything I ate over the course of one day, to provide an example of what I might eat throughout the day, and to answer the "What do you eat?" question I've gotten from a few readers.


9:50 a.m.

A tall glass of ice-cold water, first thing.  Crisp.

10:05 a.m.

Smoothie and organic coffee sweetened with vanilla creme-flavored liquid stevia.

Smoothie recipe:

1 cup unsweetened vanilla almond milk
1/2 cup frozen blueberries
1 tbsp. ground flaxseed
1 scoop greens/superfood powder
1 1/2 scoops strawberry-flavored protein powder
Handful of ice.

Blend it, drink it, thank me.

10:15 a.m.

Supplements.
Since the greens were in the smoothie, I didn't take any more.

2:00 p.m.

Post-workout shake.
(Sorry, I chugged some of it before realizing I hadn't taken a picture yet.)

Post-workout shake recipe:

10-12 oz. water
25g strawberry whey isolate
40-50g dextrose
5g creatine
5g glutamine
Ice.

4:00 p.m.

Scrambled eggs with 1 whole egg and 1/2 cup of liquid egg whites, with garlic.
Usually I'd add a vegetable like spinach or broccoli, but I was all out.

7:45

Beef stew, recipe courtesy of strength coach Dan John:

1 can tomato soup
1 can french onion soup
1-2 lbs. stew beef
Bag of frozen stew veggies
Olive oil (I used coconut)
Pepper

1.  Heat oil in big pot
2.  Brown meat in oil, pepper it
3.  Throw in soups and veggies
4.  Simmer until meat is tender.

Done and done.

10:00 p.m.

Protein pudding

1 cup low fat grass-fed milk
2 cups fat free cottage cheese
1 pkg. Sugar free instant pudding mix

Blend milk and cottage cheese until completely smooth, then  whisk in pudding mix and stick in the fridge for 5 minutes.
I won't lie, it's delicious with some sugar-free Cool Whip on top.

Later on that night I had a bowl of Greek yogurt, which I failed to take a picture of.  Sorry.

Oh, and I'm including these because during the Summer months my sweet tooth is as strong as ever:

It's things like this that keep me sane when I'm dieting.

Was this a perfect day of eating?  Maybe, maybe not.  That's probably a subject for debate.  The point is that I took in a lot of decent food and had all the right macro-nutrients at the right times, without lowering caloric intake too much and keeping the protein high.  I'll most likely have a cheat meal once or twice a week to keep leptin levels high, depending on how much of a deficit I'm in.

Have any questions?  Had trouble seeing something in the photos?  Think the stew looks awful?  


Comment!

How to Get Out of Shape, or, What I've Been Doing the Last Three Weeks

So I hopped on the scale today and found that in the last three weeks or so, I've gained about 4 lbs. of fat.

It's about damned time.

You see, about a month ago I woke up, walked over to my mirror and took a long, hard look at myself wearing just a pair of boxer briefs.  My arms and legs looked powerful, my shoulders resembled cannonballs and a six-pack was actually peeking through. In short, I was starting to look way too fucking sexy.

"This can't be!" I screamed at the shimmering, golden barbarian that stood before me.

That's when I realized something had to be done; I couldn't let my body be sculpted into this...this god.

And so, through great effort, I've managed to convert myself into a lazy, unmotivated shell of a man in just 3 short weeks.

Here are a few tips on how to let go and finally become that worthless slob you've always dreamed of being, along with warnings as to what you should not be doing:

1.  Eat ice cream after every meal.  Seriously.

I went to the grocery store simply for the purpose of buying ice cream just so I'd have something to munch on while watching My Name is Earl on Netflix.  They had a 2 for $7 deal on Edy's, so I stocked up on Chocolate Peanut Butter Cup and Thin Mint (That's right, chocolate ice cream with chunks of the Girl Scouts' Thin Mint cookies.  It's awesome).  There were days when I would eat this stuff after breakfast, lunch and dinner, and sometimes as a post-midnight snack.

What not to do:

Only eat ice cream and other sweet treats on weekly or bi-weekly cheat days or cheat meals, following the principles of leptin expert Joel Marion and fitness king John Romaniello.

2.  Make breads and pasta a staple of your diet, and take in massive amounts of carbs with every meal.

After a personal experiment where I severely limited gluten in my diet, I was feeling fantastic.  My energy levels went up, my brain fog lifted and I just had a general feeling of well-being along with extremely healthy digestion.  My poops were awesome.  All but eliminating gluten was obviously a very, very bad choice, so I started devouring sandwiches as if there were a chance a coupon for one night with Jessica Biel was hidden in between the slices of delicious blood sugar-raising refined grains.

What not to do:

Limit intake of gluten-containing products and carbs in general, keeping majority of carb intake during breakfast and peri-workout.  Make any pre-bed meals based on fat instead of carbs, because carbs are fuel for high-intensity activity, and since you're about to lay down for 8 hours, they'll likely get stored.  Dietary fat is primarily what is burned during sleep, so keep that in mind.

3.  Find any reason to skip a workout, no matter how small.

This isn't difficult to do once your diet is in shambles and you don't have the energy to clip your toenails, let alone move iron.  I'd use every excuse from "I feel a headache coming on" to "I need to finish this mission in Grand Theft Auto IV!" to not train.  I haven't felt a good pump in weeks, and I'm feeling as feeble and inadequate as ever.  Score!

What not to do:

Develop a "No excuses" mindset.  Unless it's an emergency, under no circumstances are you to refrain from training.  It doesn't matter if your favorite rerun of Friends is on tv (I know the monkey is adorable, but this is what DVDs and Netflix are for) or if your buddies want to go out to the bar.  It's okay if you're a little late; they'll forgive you.

4.  Hang on to every word your critics say.

Ya know those people who talk shit behind your back, tell you you'll fail at every opportunity and seem to revel in taking a dump on other people's dreams and goals?  They're usually right.  Chances are, you never will lose that fat, get your dream job, or meet the "one".

Just give up.

What not to do:

Eject these toxic, poisonous pieces of human garbage from your life.  They're so disgusted with themselves and their own lack of control when it comes to their own lives that they try to convince you you're just as weak as they are.  Find people who are willing to identify their goals and take action, and listen to what they have to say; there's a good chance they've had to overcome many of the same trials you have, and are happy to offer kind words and advice.  Believe in yourself.

So there it is.  Following these four simple rules should get you well on your way to becoming sad, pathetic and pudgy.

Go get 'em, tiger.





Have anything to add that will help others get out of shape?  Comment!

Welcome to Subshack, Vol. 3: The Old Man

Unsure of what his birth name is, we just call him The Old Man.  He's been employed at Subshack since it was opened, but how long he's actually been working on the piece of land on which the building was raised has yet to be determined.  We've heard tales of him pumping gas in that very spot back in the 1940's when it was a gas station, and rumors of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics of him hunting families of sasquatch have been floating around since I was hired.

The Old Man is also one of the angriest bastards you'll ever come across.  The smallest of errors may send him into a blind rage full of screaming and ranting.  Working harder and being productive will do the same.  The most you can do to avoid being ripped to shreds by his razor sharp claws (his nails haven't been trimmed since 1936, when a whip-wielding archeologist trapped him in a cave and filed them down in an effort to render him harmless) is stand completely still until called upon to do his bidding.

In 2007, Subshack veteran Michael Tejeda discovered a way to soothe The Old Man's madness.  Albeit only a temporary solution, it is an often-used tactic to get through a long shift with important limbs intact:

You've got to rub his belly.

This sends him into a state of short-lived serenity, where he reflects on his past and tells tales of valor, terror and battles long-forgotten by anyone else.

Many have attempted to slay the beast, yet none have succeeded.  It is said that he draws strength from his age and that the devouring of processed meats and grains only amplifies his power.  Taking into account his place of employment and unknown origins, he very well may be unstoppable.  This is proven by his trophy wall; a wall adorned with the heads of fallen heroes who once stood against him.

Should you venture into Subshack in an effort to quell your hunger, heed my words and proceed with great caution.

Ancient texts have prophecied a great hero that will take up arms against the one known as The Old Man and succeed where others have failed.  A hero of humble upbringing and great strength, accompanied by a group of like-minded allies the likes of which have never been seen.

My time will come.

Remember my story.

The Closest Thing To Superpowers We'll Ever Get

Testosterone.  

For some people it has become a sort of four-letter word; they associate it with anger, or with sexism, or with (gasp!) steroids.  These people imagine a muscle-bound jackass in a wifebeater flexing his delts in front of a mirror at the gym, or a greasy truck driver in the bathroom of a diner, getting pleasured by a cheap hooker while he eats a corndog and threatens to beat his wife over the phone.

My point is, that if you bring up the T-word in public, chances are you're going to be confronted by a lot of the negativity surrounding it these days.

That's Lame.

The truth is, testosterone plays a major role in the quality of human life (yes, even for women!).  Having normal/high T levels can keep you energetic and motivated.  It's highly anti-inflammatory and is, contrary to what your mama says, great for heart health.  It also helps you get lean and stay that way, along with promoting muscle growth.

Oh, and this is perhaps the best of all...

It raises libido.  Big time.

That's right, without it you'd have a hard time stepping up to the plate...with your penis.

It's the same with women.  If she's not in the mood, like, ever, there is a chance it's a hormonal imbalance.  That's what I've always found amazing about birth control pills: Women take them because they want to have passionate, mind-blowing, monkey-shit-fight-at-the-zoo sex with a man without the horrible burden of having to raise his child.  Unfortunately, the hormones that are in The Pill that prevent pregnancy also cause a drop in T production, which will lower your libido faster than seeing Ernest Borgnine in a pink Speedo.

"Testicularity is the last vanguard of civilization; what ties us to nature, what makes us want to excel, what makes us want to discover, invent, and conquer. Don't let your balls go the way of the appendix."

-From the book Atomic Dog: The Testosterone Principles by TC Luoma

Testosterone is an unstoppable hammer-wielding barbarian in the fight against mediocrity.  Why don't you want more of it?

One night when I was at a bar with my buddies, the subject of marijuana came up in conversation.  I won't get too much into what was said, but I did mention at some point that it might lower T levels.  The data is conflicting right now, but I basically said that there's a chance it might affect hormones in a measurable way.  One of my friends didn't find it concerning.  His response?

"Why would you want more testosterone, anyway?"

I let the comment slide and chose not to respond, as I felt I needed to reflect on that question a bit.  Why would you want more?  Well, I suppose it has to do with knowing what it is, what it can do, and who it can help you to become.  I also came to the conclusion that having low T-levels might actually result in a lack of concern regarding the bettering of self.

It's like in Supernatural when Sam lost his soul, and decided he didn't want it back.  You see, he didn't want his soul back because he didn't have one; when you're completely content with that fact that you don't care about anything, the thought of suddenly caring about everything and enabling yourself to feel doesn't seem like a great idea.

Kind of a lame analogy, I know, but my point remains the same:

If you don't want it, it might be because you don't have it.

Let's get some.

Dine Like a Prince, Spend like a Pauper: Quick Tips for Muscle-building & Fat Loss on a Budget

So umm...I'm kinda poor.

I'm not saying that I'm living on the streets, blogging on my laptop from a dark alley somewhere downtown, eating the freshly discarded half of a bearclaw in a fort made of cardboard and a cloak made of pigeon feathers; just that I work in a sandwich shop and have no other source of income at the moment.

"I'll do anything for a an electrical outlet.  Anything!"

I make slightly more than minimum wage and as you probably very well know, living a healthy lifestyle and having the goal of becoming simultaneously fit, strong and incredibly hawt has its price, both psychologically and financially.  In the past I made the mistake of living far beyond my means.  I bought supplements that were both unnecessary and ineffective, and I bought carts full of expensive groceries without realizing there was a better way to go about things.

It's absolutely possible to eat like a king (a healthy, awesome-looking one) and not break the bank, and here are a few tips to help you get started so you don't make the same mistakes I made:

1.  Buy meats & veggies in bulk.

I buy somewhat large amounts of chicken breasts, seal them in individual freezer bags and keep them in the freezer.  It's possibly the most versatile food on the planet, so you can just defrost a couple of them overnight and use them to make dinner the next day.  I also buy ground sirloin in large quantities for burgers.  Just mix in your seasonings and whatnot, form them into burgers, and seal them in individual baggies (just like the chicken breasts) and freeze them.  You can defrost them in the microwave and cook them up whenever you want in a jiffy, which works really well for a quick lunch or dinner.

For vegetables, I usually just buy big bags of things like frozen broccoli and cauliflower, which work great on the side of your burgers.  Just steam, season with lemon juice and sea salt, and you're golden, Pony Boy.

2.  Don't buy a bunch of supplements that you don't need.

Pretty early on after I was bitten by the fitness bug, I thought that a massive pile of pills would solve all my problems.  I didn't bther to realize that supplements are just that: supplements.  They're for supplementing what should already be a fairly solid diet; they won't make you lean and strong when you're scarfing down Snickers and Golden Grahams all day.

Also, don't get caught up in the hype of certain "wonder" pills.  Acai extract won't help you lose fat any more than banging your best friend's mother will, and spending $30 on a bottle of mangosteen juice will only result in giving you permission to be slapped in the back of the head.

(On second thought, banging Mrs. Anderson would probably be condusive to fat loss.  Especially when you're on the run while being hunted down like a dog by your best friend.)

As far as I'm concerned (and people far more qualified than me will back me up on this), the supplement staples are:

Fish oil

Greens/superfood

A good multivitamin

Vitamin D (normally the multi won't have nearly enough)

I also take zinc because most people (especially athletes and people who work out intensely) are generally pretty deficient unless they're eating a lot of organic nuts and oysters and such.

I consider protein powder to be more of a food than a supplement, so that's why I didn't include it in the list.

I do take more than what is listed depending on the situation, but I'm only listing the supplements I take every day no matter what.  I might blog about everything I take in the future, but for the purpose of this post, these are what's important.

So there you have it.  Two tips to help you get fit, tough and further out of debt if you're financially challenged  like I am.

Any advice to give on how to get muscle on a budget?  Comment!

To Arms! Let's Defeat Childhood Cancer.

When I was 12 years old, I lost my older brother to cancer.

(Awesome way to start a blog post, I know.)

Somewhere around 9 p.m. in the September of 1995, my brother Jason and I had climbed into our respective bunk beds (I was on bottom) and began chatting about sign language.  Jason had been taking a sign language class in high school because it counted for his language credit and it seemed easier than going with Spanish or French.  He tought me how to sign a few words and promised to teach me more the next day when he had his textbook handy.  Of course I can't remember if I was genuinely interested in sign language or if I was just excited about the prospect of doing something with my older brother that didn't involve a black eye or hurtful insults, but I was looking forward to it nonetheless.  To have such a civil discussion that lasted more than two minutes was a somewhat rare occurence in that point in our "brothership."

We went to sleep.

A few hours later at around 4 or 5 a.m., I awoke to the sound of something thrashing around on the top bunk.  I didn't know what was going on, so I immediately jumped out of bed and climbed up to see what my brother was doing.  His back was arched, his arms flailed and he was grunting as if he was in pain, though he didn't seem conscious.  Assuming he was just having a terrible dream, I tried hitting him and shaking him to wake him up, which in retrospect wasn't the best idea.

I ran to my parents' room and woke my mother, telling her there was something wrong with Jason.  It wasn't long after that he snapped out of it and we got him down from the bed and into the kitchen.  My mom called my dad, who was at work at the time, to tell him what had happened and to come home right away.  As we waited for my father to get there, my brother (who was aware he wouldn't be going to school that day) went into the livingroom and sat down at our then-brand-spanking-new Acer computer. 

As Jason sat at the computer, suddenly he collapsed.  His head fell forward and hit the wooden desk with a loud bang.  I pulled him back to the sitting position in the chair and he then realized he had trouble moving his right arm.  If there was ever a time during this morning to panic, this was it.  My mom called 911 and the ambulence arrived minutes later.  My dad still hadn't made it home yet and because the ambulence couldn't fit both my mom and I, we had to let them go without us and go to the hospital when my dad got home.

Thus began the most difficult 11 months any of us would ever endure.

On August 7th, 1996, after nearly a year of chemotherapy, radiation therapy and several surgeries, after a year of training myself to become almost completely emotionally detached, after 11 months of fighting the angry bitch that is Cancer with everything he had, my brother died at the age of 16.

No one should have to go through what he did, and that's why I'm asking for your help.

While I don't have the means or the knowledge to seek out new, more effective ways to treat cancer in children, the St. Baldrick's foundation does.

From their website:

"The St. Baldrick's Foundation is a volunteer-driven charity committed to funding the most promising research to find cures for childhood cancers and give survivors long and healthy lives."

Now that's something I can get behind.

For more info, visit www.stbaldricks.org.

You don't have to shave your head.  In fact, my favorite fitness guy, John Romaniello, has organized an effort to raise $10,000 for St. Baldrick's.  All you have to do is follow the link below and hit the donate button near the bottom of the post.  There is no minimum or maximum donation, but anything over $15 gets you a bunch of free workouts by some of the best trainers in all the land.

http://www.romanfitnesssystems.com/blog/baring-it-all-for-charity-help-me-fight-childhood-cancer

Read the post, watch the video, and please donate what you can.  Whether it's $1 or a million, everything helps.

An Adventure of Epic Proportions

So I've been going over my previous blog posts and had a pretty shocking realization:

I seem way more put-together than I actually am.

While a few things in my life are pretty well thought-out and organized, my weekly schedule reads like a monkey shit fight at the zoo.  I've got my morning ritual and workout routines down pretty well, and it's not often that I let myself go off track or get distracted from those two things.  The rest of the day, however, is pretty much me just "living in the moment." That sounds good in theory, but instead of doing cool stuff like hiking or going to a farmer's market (yes, those things are cool to me.  And yes, I am lame), I tend to watch multiple episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer in one sitting or take three-hour naps.  I'm not all that great at making spur-of-the-moment good decisions; I'm more likely to take a twenty-minute drive to the grocery store based on a sudden craving for yogurt than to sit down and actually do something constructive.

I'm telling you all this because I want to be completely honest and forthcoming with you guys.  I don't want to give the impression that I have it all figured out, because I don't.  If I post something on here where I'm offering advice, it's because I feel that I can talk about the subject as a result of many hours of casual research and do so without coming off as a complete retard.  The purpose of this site is to help you where I can and hope you'll join me in my voyage to create a lifestyle worthy of envy and emulation.

Think of it this way:

You've embarked on an epic quest to save the world.  You have a long, arduous journey ahead of you, with many battles yet to be fought and many miles to be traveled.  In order to emerge victorious, you need to never stop believing yourself and surround yourself with people who will offer support and help you slay the occasional chimera or cactuar.

During your quest you learn that in order to obtain the information you need to continue, you must make a stop in a tiny village called Teh Interwebz.  There are many people here who will offer you words of wisdom:  wizards who are especially well-learned in their craft,  as well as fools in pointy hats who pretend to be so.  In fact, it's quite difficult to find useful information sometimes.  Ask a man on the street about dealing with dark elves and there's a good chance he'll hand you a book full of naked pictures of drunken gnomes.

While visiting the local tavern, you meet a man who offers to join your party.  He seems brutish yet well-spoken.  It is evident that he means well, yet he insists that trolls shouldn't wear tweed jackets; it's just not becoming of them.  He's a paladin in training, with basic knowledge of healing and strength buffs.  He wields a magical hammer named "The Blog," and is also incredibly handsome (hey, it's my story).

This man will do what he can to help you reach your goals, for your destinations are similar.

Stop Mourning the Morning: 6 Ways to Slay the A.M. Dragon

So I'm kind of a morning person.

In fact, I think it's safe to say that morning is most likely my favorite part of the day.  There's just something about the calmness of it all.  To know that the next hour or two are yours alone, and the only things you have to do to stay productive are seemingly mundane, almost meditative tasks.  Whatever horrible things you went through yesterday are behind you.

It's a new day, and it's fresh chance for you to make improvements.  Did you spend yesterday sitting on your ass and watching Youtube videos?  Did you accomplish none of the things you told yourself you would?

Been there.

I'm getting better, however, and it has a lot to do with how my day begins.  It's easy to set yourself up for a really crappy day by waking up, griping about the day ahead, munching on a Pop Tart (or not eating breakfast at all) and chugging gas station coffee in the car on your way to work.  It takes just a wee bit more effort, but I guarantee if you use the guidelines I've provided here that you too can become a morning person.  Instead of opening your door and making the arduous ten-foot journey to your car, you'll break straight through your front door like a viking, sprint to your car, lift it over your head, throw it over the horizon while screaming and grunting like the Hulk and run to work with the speed of The Flash.

You bet your ass.

Get a good night's sleep.

I really hope I don't need to explain the benefits of sleeping.  Set a goal for seven to nine hours of sleep a night.  This of course makes a huge difference when it comes to how you're feeling in the morning, and not getting enough (or too much) sleep can make or break the entire next day.

Wake up with gusto.

As soon as the alarm sounds, I jump out of bed like the house is on fire, because I know if I continue to lay down that five seconds can easily turn into an hour.  It makes it easier when your alarm is a catchy up-beat tune, so I installed a program on the computer in my bedroom called Alarmwiz, which is a nifty alarm that will play any mp3 of your choosing.  You can use it to set up several alarms for different occasions and turn them on and off whenever.  It's pretty awesome.

My favorite wake-up song is Huey Lewis' Hip To Be Square, thanks to an episode of NBC's Chuck.

Chug! Chug! Chug!

When you're done dancing like a drunkard to Lady Gaga, make your way to the kitchen and make yourself a tall glass of ice water.  Now drink it.  It's important to replenish fluids first thing in the morning because after eight hours you're pretty dehydrated.  It also gets your body's systems going and according to various studies, drinking ice water in the morning boosts your metabolism by getting your internal "furnace" going.  Even if you find that hard to believe, there are still plenty of reasons to do it.

Exercise, or something.

Personally I like to get on my stationary bike for a bit while I watch an episode or two of Seinfeld.  The idea of it sucks, but a little fasted cardio before breakfast makes you feel incredible.  Trust me.  Sometimes I'll follow it up by a little meditation.  In place of the bike you could also do yoga, or if the weather permits, just take a walk around the block.

Oh, and stretch. 

Babies for breakfast, babies for dinner

Ditch the cereal for a week, cooking yourself a tasty breakfast with a nice ratio of protein, fats, and carbs.  You'll thank me.

My favorite breakfast lately?  Scrambled eggs made with 1 whole omega-3 egg, 4 egg whites and chopped spinach, topped with a nuked mixture of lentils, salsa and cumin, with a side of natural uncured bacon.  For those of you who think that sounds awful, it's better than it sounds.  For you folks out there who think it sounds amazing...it is.

If you want to get a little schmancy, try yerba mate in place of coffee every now and again.  It's a South American tea that has caffeine in it, along with theobromine, the euphoriant in chocolate.  It'll give you energy and mental clarity without the jitters.

Take a Scottish shower.

No, I don't mean singing the Oscar Meyer wiener song in your best Sean Connery voice.  Basically it just means turning the faucet to the cold setting for the last couple of minutes while showering.  It'll be just awful the first couple of times you do it, but you'll feel like a new man/woman afterward.  Other than just the wake-up factor, benefits of cold showers include improving circulation, boosting testosterone, increasing fertility and promoting the release of growth hormone (great for burning fat and gaining muscle).  Of course it also closes your pores, so prepare to look smooth.

Just following these guidelines should produce almost immediate results.  Why?  In most cases a good morning leads to a good day, so it's best to make the most out of the first hour or two after you've arisen from your slumber.

You might even say that creating the perfect morning for yourself is the first step in achieving all your hopes and dreams.



...you might say.


Have any of your own tips to tame the dreary-eyed beast known as the morning?  Wake up and comment!

TDWT Chow Time: The Fajita Bowl

It's alright, I'm doing fine.

No, really.

I don't feel deprived at all.

In fact, as I continue to improve my cooking skills, it's becoming easier and easier all the time.  To be able to cook your own delicious meals is satisfying in itself, but to be able to eat like a king whilst knowing that you've taken yourself one step closer to becoming a chiseled Adonis, well, that's just icing on the cake (figuratively speaking, of course).

Goodbye, McDonald's.

Hell, I don't even need Chipotle anymore.  Sure, Chipotle, while high in calories, is probably your best bet when you're craving fast food but don't want to fill your body with body composition-wrecking balls of poisonous shit, but I've got something better for you.  A food that you can eat every day without feeling guilty.  A pile of scrumptious ambrosia that's fit for a god.  Not one of those fat, lazy gods either.  I'm talking Hercules-friendly chow here.

Now before you start with the whole "but, like, he was only half-god, bro" stuff, I'm just going to go ahead and jump right to the recipe.  This makes two servings, but you can double or triple the recipe if you're looking to have lunch/dinner for a few days.

Kittoe's Fajita Bowl of Awesomeness

Get this:

Boneless, skinless chicken breast
Poblano pepper (green peppers will work if you can't find them)
Onion
Canned chipotle peppers in adobo sauce (should be in the Mexican section of the grocery store)
Fajita marinade
Lettuce (those bags of pre-shredded will work)
Salsa (I use Mrs. Renfro's chipotle corn salsa)
Low-fat or fat free sour cream
Reduced fat or fat free shredded Mexican blend or cheddar cheese
Canned pinto beans (or bean of your choice)

Do this:
 
1.  Slice the chicken breast into bite-sized cubes.  Toss in a large Ziploc bag with the fajita marinade.  I don't really measure how much I use; I just make sure to use enough to get decent coverage of the chicken.  Throw into the fridge and let it marinate for up to 2 hours.

2.  After you've let the chicken soak up all the deliciousness of the marinade, grab the pepper and slice it into strips.  Do the same with the onion.  If it's a large onion, use from a third to about half of the onion; if it's small, use from a half to three quarters of it.

3.  Depending on how much you can tolerate spicy foods, grab 1-3 of the chipotle peppers out of the can and chop them into a fine mush.  These bad boys are hot as all hell, so be careful.

4.  Heat a bit of oil in a wok or skillet with medium-high heat for a minute or so.  Empty the bag of chicken into the pan.  Then dump the peppers, onions, chipotle pepper mush and about a 1/2 cup of beans intot he pan, mixing it all together with a wooden spoon.

5.  Let it cook for about 15 minutes, or until the chicken is cooked through, stirring and tossing often.  Personally, I enjoy using my wok and tossing the food into the air;  it makes me feel like I'm in an episode of Iron Chef.

6.  When it's done, divide it into two bowls and top them with the lettuce, a small handful of cheese, some salsa and a dab of sour cream.

7.  Serve, eat and watch as your girlfriend/boyfriend/buddy suddenly finds you incredibly impressive.

Done and done.

If you've tried this or have any variations you'd like to share, comment!

Live Like a Mother@#%!er.

Two days ago I went to the bank to deposit my Subshack check.  I was excited as I was almost broke at the time and I had just run out of several important items (protein powder, for one) and well, payday is always an exciting day for everyone, right?  As usual, I was making plans in my head for all the things I was going to do once I had that sweet, sweet cash in my hand.

"I'm gonna buy a French Press and use it for loose-leaf tea!"

"I'm gonna buy seven pounds of protein powder!" 

"I'm gonna start drinking red wine!" 

You know the deal.  Payday is awesome.

Payday brings hope.

I made my way into the grocery store where the nearest branch of my bank is located, walking with that world-on-a-string feeling.  I think I may have had a little too much spring in my step, as I vaguely remember time slowing to a crawl and effortlessly leaping over an elderly woman who had fallen seconds earlier.  Her cries for help were distorted and converted into the peaceful harmonies of Celtic new age artist Enya's  Athair ar Neamh.

 Hey, when you're feeling this good, you don't stop for anything, baby.

Anyway, the world took a sudden, violent turn for the worse when I finally made it to the bank to deposit my check.  You see, the guy ahead of me in line started arguing with the clerk, which had become heated and distracting enough to break me out of my bliss and into an uncomfortable funk.  I have no idea what the argument was about, but what I'd gathered was that he wasn't able to receive the money he'd come there for, and to say he wasn't very happy about it would be an understatement.  

He turned around, started walking away with the grace of a drunken Sasquatch and said loud enough for everyone in a twenty-foot radius to hear:

"Alright, cunt!  See ya later, cunt!"

  

Now, I consider myself to be pretty adept at handling awkward situations, but in this sort of situation I'm pretty useless.  I can't say I was shocked at the guy's reaction; I've been working in a sandwich shop for years and I've had people throw bitch-fits because I put too many pickles on their sandwich.  It really makes you wonder how anyone could flip out over such trivial things.  You don't put what they consider to be "extra" mayonnaise on a person's sandwich and they react as if you just took a shit on their grandmother's corpse.

(This is where I'd normally put an awesome MSPaint drawing.  Sorry, it ain't happening.)

I didn't do anything aside from give him the stink eye as he walked away.  For the rest of the day, I looked back on that situation with much shame on my part.  How could I just stand there and let this nice young lady, who has deposited my paycheck so many times on payday, the greatest of days, be insulted and possibly have her entire day ruined by this piece of trash?  Why didn't I say anything?

Why didn't I rip my shirt off and follow him to his dark tower of evil, kicking the asses of all of his cronies as I made my way to the top for the final battle between good & evil?

Alright, it may not have worked out quite that awesomely.

 I spent the rest of the day reliving that moment in my head, contemplating what I'd do if I could go back in time.  Yeah, I dwell on things.

The truth is, most of us have more than likely had many moments like the one I just described.  A time when somebody, anybody, should have stood up, if only to say "What the hell is wrong with you?"  Sure it may have lead to confrontation, but isn't a little discomfort worth the risk when you're doing what's right?

I'm not saying that next time a guy cuts you off when you're driving you should follow him home and piss on his dog or anything.  It's not even necessary to get physical.  I'm just suggesting that we start living like a motherfucker.

That's right.  Don't do anything by half.  When you work out, train like a motherfucker.  When you have sex, bang the living shit out of her.  When you eat a bagel, well...put the bagel down and lose fat like a motherfucker.

Put your entire heart, soul and balls into whatever you're doing.  I guarantee that in the end, we'll be happier with ourselves and what we've accomplished.

Now get out there.  I'll be right behind you, all the way.

I Saw the Future (And You Can Too!)

The first version of this article was originally published by myself on Feb. 16th, 2009 on another site.   

Not all of it is relevant now, but me thinks it still makes for a decent read.

So I worked out today with the intensity of a coked-up barbarian...and vomited.

Apparently, it has something to do with a reaction to the breaking down of proteins in the system.

Disgusting, right?

Well my experience today was far from the disgusting.  My vision blurred, I could barely stand, and I kind of felt like Charlie when he ate an entire pizza and drank 24 beers all in a single sitting.


"Guys, if I'm peeing wake me up!"



The thing that happened next, however, is what I'm here to tell you all about:

I saw the future.

At least I think I did.  Maybe it'll happen, maybe it won't.  But I've gotta admit, it all seems pretty damned possible.  I've never been one to think about what is yet to come.  I hate making plans.  The very thought of what I'm going to do with the rest of my life makes me immediately hop on the computer and go to one of those Youtube-style porn sites and start jerking away, just so I can live in the moment again.

Some will support me.  Some will betray me.  And some, well...let's just say that they give a darn good blow-J.  I'm damn proud of what I've accomplished, though.  I'm going to write a novel, and not like any of the trash I've started and thrown aside in the past.  This one gets finished, and published on a global scale.  Oprah wants to make it one of her book club selections, which would easily make me millions of dollars, but I decline. I say something along the lines of  "If you're taking suggestions from that yoyo-dieting messiah of the housewife, there's a good chance I don't even want you reading it."  It turns out this was just an awful, awful decision and choice of words. 

My tv series will begin airing in 2015 on Showtime.  The two main characters are based on my good friend Ian and myself, and the two actors emulating us will eventually grow to hate the characters because they're so identified with them.  It's going to be the next Seinfeld, only with hot, nude women with little butterfly tattoos on their hips bathing in the background of every scene.  David Duchovney, eat your heart out.

Being on the cover of Men's Health and the article that was published in the issue inspires me to write a book full of healthy versions of your favorite meals.  Full of protein and other muscle-building goodness.  Try the Chicken Kiev; it's fuckin' delicious.

Now, onto the darker side of my future:

Despite my successes, my love life is in shambles.  You see, I have a certain predilection toward unavailable women.  Taken?  Lesbian?  Would rather make love to a pine cone than me?

I love you.

As it turns out, this is my downfall.  They're going to find me dead on a hotel room floor surrounded by bottles full of unrequited love.  No note, no phone call.  I'm discovered by a married chambermaid, who had rejected my advances just hours before.

God damn, I can't let this happen.  I won't let myself go that way.

There's got to be a way to break this curse.  Anybody have some charred cat bones?  Maybe an eyeball taken from one of those horse/zebra hybrids?


Turns out witchcraft is more of a hassle than it's worth.

The way I figure it, there's only one possible solution:  Get out while I can.

If I come across a woman who's unavailable and also completely irresistible, I'm not walking, I'm running in the opposite direction.  No more attempted courtship.  No more becoming "the other man".  No more self-emasculation.

No more time wasted.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some broadband-speed internet porn to jerk off to.


Carry on, my wayward son.

Photo by David LaChappelle