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