Seems like a lot of prisoners are muscular, right?  Do you ever think about why? There’s more to the story than an abundance of ‘down time.’  I’m reading “Never Let Go” by Dan John.  In this book, he posits prisoners work out all the time because their physical body is the only thing they have control over.  I agree with Mr. John.  I’ve seen this in my practice as a therapist.

Prison heavily restricts choice.  Mind and body are all the prisoner has left to control.  Some prisoners choose to gain knowledge, some smear feces on the walls, and some work out so damn much they look like comic book heroes.  All three choices have to do with control.

Here’s what I’m getting at.  You, my dear reader, are fat because you have too many choices in life!  Incarcerate yourself.  The mindset of “I don’t have time” is pure rationalization.  You have time, and you have choice.  Too much choice.  Restrict some of that choice.  Drop free agency, pick up a barbell, and press it.

Here were my resolutions from last year (go here for more detail on these resolutions):

1) Maintain a minimum level of strength during all the grueling endurance training I have ahead of me this year.

Grade: A.  Working out with Arlo at Competitive Edge  made this very achievable.  He draws on a theory called Vertical Integration (Vertigo Intimidation).  If you want a grueling, yet fun workout, pay him a visit.

2) Make an effort to ensure people I am close to know they mean a lot to me.

Grade: F. I give myself the grade of “F” not because I’m some kind of raging asshole, but more because I didn’t make any effort in going beyond my status quo.  Complacency is a goal wrecker.

3) Improve my take downs and take down defense. 

Grade: B.  I competed twice this year, and took down every one of my opponents without giving up a take down.  This should be an A, but since I wrecked my biceps I ended up spending a good chunk of 2011 not working any stand up at all.

4) Become more well rounded in keeping Katchie smiling.

Grade: C. The criteria I’m using are picking up my contributions with house work, and giving random tokens of appreciation.  I don’t think I did one extra chore beyond the status quo, so that knocks my score.  I feel like I did better with the whole tokens of appreciation thing, though.

I have my arm back!  I got tired of waiting, and decided to roll without wrapping my arm up like a flipper.  Initially, I was a little apprehensive.  That lasted all of two minutes.  Once I got going, I felt fine.  Getting full use out of my arm was nice and all, but I had an unexpected issue.

It got in the way.

At various times throughout training tonight, I’d get caught in a weird position and think, “What the hell is this thing?!”

Then quickly, “Oh… right.  My arm.”

Don’t get me wrong; it’s nice to have it back.  It’s just a matter of adapting again now that I have this functional appendage hanging off my shoulder.

I’ve noticed my opponent cannot mount an offense, and is perpetually reacting to my movement.  I do this by constantly shifting my hips, pushing with one leg, and pulling my opponent off base with the other, and then shifting my hips again, etc.  Lather, rinse, repeat.  When my opponent is left reacting to my constant movement, it buys me time to set up techniques.

Movement buys time.

Too bad I didn’t whip my phone out and snap a picture of the scene that unfolded before me prior to Las Vegas Ragnar. Now you’ll have to put up with my clumsy wording and half-assed explanation in order to grasp the hilarity that ensued.

Here goes nothing. Before the race, I decided to take a stroll along the strip. Somewhere between the MGM Grand and the Hard Rock existed a city block full of “street entertainers,” i.e., hobos dressed up in cool outfits doing shit for thirty seconds and then expecting a tip. Within this city block were four different entertainment acts, three of which were mesmerizing a crowd of people with their performance. Here is what I saw:

Two dudes in transformers costumes transformed, Mortal Kombat characters fought it out, and Spiderman did some acrobats. Each act housed a crowd of about thirty people, of which many threw dollar bills in to the respective tip jars. Pretty impressive stuff.

Then I got to Batman. Batman was at the end of the block. Batman didn’t have a crowd… at all. Curiosity drew me closer to the Dark Knight, and I immediately saw why Batman’s tip jar was empty. On the bench next to Batman sat a thirty-something tweaker on the wrong end of his meth binge. The tweaker had his mud caked hands gripped tightly around the tall boy nestled in his lap while sobbing hysterically, tears dripping in to his beer. Batman was pissed! The tweaker was basically “C Blocking” his act! Nobody wanted to be anywhere near this awkward scene, thus, all the money went to Spidey and the Transformers.

The picture that I wished I had snapped was of an exasperated Batman throwing his hands in to the air, with a classic “WTF!?!” look on his face while hovering over the drugged, despair-ridden degenerate. It would have been AWESOME.

As I type this, I realize that many may not find this funny, rather, they may look at this situation as some sad representation of poverty blah, blah, blah.

NO! I’m telling you right now. That was hilarious, and I was too slow on the draw with my cell phone. Next time, Killer J readers, next time.

Rolling with one arm is interesting, as it eliminates the possibility of a few of my go to submissions.  Trying to maintain a base is laughable.  The silver lining is my guard will probably improve, as I’m forced to focus a lot more on hip movement and positioning.

Here I am again, officially cleared to start curling 3 lbs.  I didn’t bother to take pictures, but rest assured my physique once again resembles melted butter.  Here are my woeful stats:

Weight: 201  Body Fat: 11%  Chest: 43″  Waist: 36″  Arms (unflexed): 13.5″

I won’t be cleared to lift weights or do jiu-jitsu by this doctor until six weeks from now, but I will be doing other types of strength training and running to get in shape for Ragnar Las Vegas.  I’ll do a six week follow up, and then a 12 week follow up with stats to accompany it.

Stress is omnipresent, but not omnipotent.  Time to beat it in to submission.

An evil dictator said it, but I believe this is the key to success.  Across all demographics, it seems the two traits capable of commanding immediate deference, adoration, and respect are intelligence and physical prowess.  Both traits have genetic influence, but all of us can make strides to amplify what we have.

A keen, educated mind complete with a sharp wit is one hell of an asset.  This gives us the ability to seamlessly navigate our social world and make informed decisions.  In our world today, most everyone recognizes the importance of intelligence as it correlates to success.  No brainer, so to speak.

Physical prowess, however, seems to be dismissed by many in today’s civilized world.  Possessing the ability to deliver a passionate ass whoopin’ is severely under rated in both the social and professional realm.  To be clear, I am NOT advocating throwing punches during a board meeting if things don’t go your way.  What I’m saying, however, is that no matter how advanced our society gets, we are all still animals.  A guy with a thick neck subconsciously triggers respect in those around him.  Throw a cauliflowered ear on our thick-necked Silverback and he’s either immediately admired or feared; maybe both.

Look at Russia’s Vladimir Putin.  He’s a Judo blackbelt, former KGB, sings Opera, and runs a nation.  He is, without a doubt, an Alpha male.  Unfortunately, he doesn’t really like the good ol’ USA.  So, what’s the Killer J solution for America?  We need a guy that exemplifies Mao’s quote, “Civilize the mind, but make savage the body.”  Couture for 2012!

Couture 2012

I thought these MRI images looked cool.  From what I can tell, I’m pregnant with twins.