Friday, September 28, 2007

Motivation for fatcats.

Alrighty then, as the Finnster would say, this week is mostly in the bag. Apart from a hike on Sunday I am on a go slow until next week.
Today was a good work out. I worked hard on my stabilisers, doing 4x10 sets of one legged dips, carrying 15k disks in each arm and performing over head squats using the 4k bar. Now I'm a bad squatter so form is much more important to me than weight for the moment, but even using the 4k bar it was a real work out.
4x 10 sets of flys, only 4k bells but that's fine.
I need to work on the shoulder press more, when I'm not doing a jump I'm seriously lacking in strength and that pisses me off. I did 3x 8 using the 18k bar and I was wobbling all over the place on the last three reps and finally dribbled off to failure. Now if I do a my normal push jerk I can lift 5kilos more than that, so I'm not impressed at all.
In between all this I hit the grav machine for more pull ups, broken into sets of 10, I used an under grip today, working the biceps and kept the weight on 35k, it was fine and dandy but my over grip is definitely much stronger and I was kipping a bit towards the end of the last set-which is ridiculous on a grav machine.

To finish off I hit the rowing machine. Now for some reason I found it hard to get into the groove today, so by the time I hit 3000metres I was almost 2 whole minutes behind on my time and getting annoyed. As is the fatcat way this meant I had to chase it, and when I hadn't caught it by 5000m I lost it and the big guns came out. It was a pink faced teeth clenched affair and I chased that time down until I bounced over the 6000m mark coming in at 29: 40, still not fabulous but better.

I realise why it is that I don't need anyone to train with, if I had real live competition I'd probably kill myself.

Hit the showers, home.

I am going out tonight to partake of what is probably the only session I'm going to fit in before the Marathon. Chumlies will notice I've been taking it handy with the hooch of late, watching CSI on Fridays after only a drink or three at Smurfs, taking it handier still on Saturdays and running on sundays or the day formerly know as drink day.
Tis but a small sacrifice if I can make it over that line after 26 miles in one piece.
But tonight all bets are off.
Have a good weekend everyone.

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7 Comments:

Blogger Medbh said...

Enjoy your ale and rum and try to squeeze in some H20 for good measure.

5:23 p.m.  
Blogger Sam, Problem-Child-Bride said...

I don't understand it but I love the language: 4x10 sets of flys; 4k bells. I used to go to the gym before I had the girls but just pottered more than anything else. I probably pissed off all the serious people by leaving the machines on the lowest possible weights but I was always a very good disinfector. I probably toned my arms more by vigourously polishing sweaty seats than anything else.

You inspire me, so you do. Drink up tonight - you deserve it.

I'm pretty sure I'm a bad squatter too.

That reminds me of a story my pal told me recently about hiking in the wilderness. There she was, in the middle of the night, in the high desert with the nearest settlement over 100 miles away. Needing to poo she emerged from her tent and, as wilderness etiquette demands, began looking for a rock she could lift, do the do, and then recover the waste.

Well, every flaming rock she lifted had poo underneath already. Every one. Confused and bleary-eyed, she stumbled off with her torch into the high chaparral checking every rock she saw, until she fell over one, banged her head and knocked herself out.

Her boyfriend found her by the light of her torch. He found her a rock too eventually and they returned to the tent - her with a shocking headache, him with a tale to embarrass her at every social gathering they would ever have together for the rest of their lives (they're married now).

"Wilderness, my ass," she said when she told me. "Indeed," moaned I, from my hilarity-induced foetal position. In some pain actually.

5:47 p.m.  
Blogger Conan Drumm said...

I'm off to see Ms Foster do a Mr Bronson impersonation... might get a beer in.

6:02 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Satdee morning , 9:17, head like boiled cabbage. I dreamed I scored a 'touchdown' for Ireland in a mix of rugby and AF. George Hook was going wild, but then some Doctor wanted me to come talk to him becasue clearly there's something wrong with the way I run.
Odd.
How was the film Conan? Did she out Bronson Bronson?

9:19 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Sam, I do believe that story is good enough reason for only staying in hotels.

9:20 a.m.  
Blogger Medbh said...

Sam, I have to concur. Fuck the wilderness. I had to poop once during a death march in the Black Hills of South Dakota and never felt so humiliated. I told Mr. M that my sisters had worked to get us out of the muck and onto clean toilets.

12:52 p.m.  
Blogger Conan Drumm said...

In many ways a good, lean, economical film. Doesn't mess about and she pretty much carries it in every scene. Terence Howard is very good in support... but, the ending is a cop-out from the sort of moral complexity the film tries to stack up.

10:23 a.m.  

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