Tom is a husband, father, novelist, opinion writer, and former Navy Corpsman currently living in Georgia. He's also someone who has lost almost 60 pounds in a safe, sustainable way, so he knows what he's talking about.
Last week, a friend was griping about how their weight loss and ground to a halt. I talked to them a bit about it, but then I came across someone in a group I’m in on Facebook talking about hitting plateaus with their weight loss, and I figured it was time to talk about why diets “fail.”
First, let’s understand something. What most people call “diets” are really diet protocols. They’re sets of rules that we adopt in an effort to create a nutritional framework so we can achieve our goals.
Yet I’m going to let you in on something a lot of people will disagree with me on. That tidbit is that pretty much all diet protocols work.
It’s been another six months since I’ve published anything here and I’m not going to make excuses. I’d love to blame COVID-19, but besides the fact that a lot more people are running around the house on the day-to-day, I don’t even have that to blame.
No, I was just a lazy sack of shit.
OK, that’s not exactly fair. I’ve been busy, sure. Not too busy to write here, but I’ve been busy in other ways. I still haven’t trained worth a damn, though HEMA classes are back on the menu thankfully.
Yet over the last few weeks, I’ve felt that gnawing inside of me, that thing that tells me I need to train again. Not just with a longsword or some other weapon–and I’ve done some other weapons from Fiore’s treatises–but something far more physical.
It’s been really, really quiet here lately. I’m sorry about that. I was out of town for a couple of different trips among other things. Now, I’d like to bring you all up to date and try to get back in the swing of things here.
Of course, the question is, “Just what the hell do you mean by that?” Well, Barbarians like a good fight, that’s sure. However, for better or worse, we live in a society that frowns on fighting…to a point. What they frown on is the idea of hurting one another.
There’s another kind of fight you can engage in, though, that will be celebrated, even if a civilized society such as ours. You just need to pick those fights.
While trying to make my way into being capable of something like a Spartan Race, I’ve had to step back and look at every exercise I do. With three days per week taken up with running, I don’t have all week to train.
Well, I do, but I don’t. I mean, I have more free time available than most due to the nature of my job, but I also have to practice with a longsword, prepare food for the family, etc. I just don’t want to spend all day training.
Besides, I live in South Georgia and it’s freaking HOT!
Anyway, I take a look at what exercises I was doing and I also watched a number of Spartan Races themselves. Now, not all obstacle course races are Spartan Races, so I watched a bunch of those too.
My goal was to look at what would be demanded of me so I could tailor my training accordingly. In the process, I started doing a movement that’s become one of my favorite exercises: The barbell pullover.
Hail, Barbarians, and well met! I see Jorge has brought a trophy along for Show & Tell tonight. I hope the Saxon dog met his end gloriously, though I’d ask that in the future, you give your trophies time for the flesh to rot from the bones. A good soak in 40v hydrogen peroxide will de-yuck and brighten the skulls of your enemies right up! If one of you lovely savages will raid the nearest cosmetology supply depot, we can have arts and crafts next week.
Tonight’s self-care subject was set to be the proper care of your flowing, warrior locks, but Bjorn Bjornson went a bit berserkrgang during the recent battle and was last seen attacking the forest with his teeth. Hopefully, he’ll be back in his right mind soon, and we can benefit from his experience, then. Always remember to chain your berserkrs to avoid this in the future. In the meantime, I’d like to talk to you about the white bits of tissue holding your joints together, and your muscles to them. Olaf the Flayed has graciously consented to act as my visual aid for tonight’s presentation. Don’t mind the whimpering: he just does that. Continue reading “Dave Goes Barbarian – Rocking the Connective Tissues”