Horn blows? What about the driver?

It's the time of year again for all of us to give thanks.  Thanks for our health. Our home.  Our jobs.  Our livelihoods. Our family and our friends.  And me, I'm thankful that I have a great job with one of the greatest friends anyone could ever have.  My man Jason Childs. 

If you've read my little blog before you know who Jason is, what he does and what he means to me. So I feel obligated to share with you one of the fondest memories I have about Jay.  It may be a little embarrassing for him, but damn it, its a funny story, and it's too good not to share with you all.  

So have fun, give thanks, and read on...

 

It was our Junior Year of high school.  Jason was the first real friend I had who had his driver's license.  And we, much like a lot of 16 and 17 year olds, went for a lot of really unnecessary drives.  We would just drive to Cumberland Farms and buy crappy snacks, or just drive to Augusta for the hell of it.  We'd listen to music and make compilation CDs and sing along to Linkin Park, System of a Down and even Dr. Dre and Eminem.  But there was one drive that would become very, very necessary and would live on for years to come.

Jason had just had a very bad fight with his high school sweetheart.  In fact, I believe that they had just broken up.  He was very distraught.  Downright angry.  I tried my best to sympathize with him.  It was difficult because I didn't have a lot of high school romances.  But I tried my best.  We decided that we would leave the high school and go for a cruise.  We'd talk it out.  Or rather he would talk and I would listen.  

He cried a little, swore a lot.  And Jason does this thing when he gets mad where he'll ball up his fist and smash any inanimate object that just happens to be within striking distance.  Today it was his car's horn.

Now, Jason's car wasn't exactly what you would call cherry.  It was a Geo Prism.  A delightful brown with tan interior.  I think that I will remember what the passenger side of that car looked like until the day I die. But I digress.  That little Prism was the first taste of freedom that The Man-Childs and I had as young adults.  He "got lucky" in that car.  I heard about him "getting lucky" in that car.  We tried to outrun the police in that car.  We almost got pulled out and arrested in that car.  The Prism was a jack of all trades.  

Not THE Prism, but its close enough.

The Prism was a funny car, not just because of its size and color, but because our head football coach had an identical car to Jason's.  Not similar.  IDENTICAL.  They were the same car.  Believe it or not, Jason's key actually fit the lock and yes, even the ignition of Coach's car.  We discovered this and proceeded to drive Coach's car up a small hill that consisted of nothing but sand and grass until it would go no further.  And left it there for him to find.  I don't think we were actually there for his reaction, but I'm sure he was less than thrilled.  

Back to Jason't Prism.  This thing thrived for years.  I'm pretty sure when he finally got rid of it it had something like 400,000 miles and if I remember correctly the driver's door wouldn't fully latch, but other than that the thing was an absolute tank. It made it in and out of many a driveway during snow storms, got pulled and pushed out of ditches and if I had to venture a guess drove from Winthrop to McDonald's in Augusta 457 times.  Jason drove that thing everywhere.  It held up to everything.  Except when it's horn met Jason's fist.

In his fit of rage Jay rose his fist into the air and sent is crashing down onto the three dimensional globe logo in the middle of the horn three times.  And each time he struck it made a muffled "MEEP!"  Smash!  Meep!  Smash!  Meep!  Smash!  Meep!  Then a fourth and what turned out to be the final blow - the horn gave up the ghost and stayed on.  Smash!  Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

I don't know if this has ever happened to you, but have you ever been so mad, that you don't think you could get any more mad?  And then someone says something, or something happens and it just spirals you out of control and you become enraged?  Well when the crashing blow from his huge right hand made the horn of the Geo Prism stay on, Jason became a man possessed.  Sweat beaded up on his brow, his eyes became wide.  Veins bulged from his temples and arms and his face turned crimson.  Driving up Main Street in Winthrop Maine with his horn blaring the only thing on his mind, now, was getting this damn horn to turn off.  

Knowing Jason means you know the man is a specimen of a human being.  Pro Bodybuilder, 20 (or more) inch arms, phenomenal basketball player and all star wide receiver, Jason's body isn't the norm.  And one of the things that sets him apart from us mere mortals is he has very lengthy appendages.  He has long arms and long legs and huge hands.  He is the vanilla gorilla.  

Being the specimen that he is, he had used his brute strength to get this horn stuck in the "on" position, now he was using it to get it in the "off" position.  Bludgeoning it is what got him (us) here in the first place.  So using his huge hands, Jay opens his massive paws, latches on to the horn of the Prism and yanked it from the steering wheel.  The two components that touch to make the horn sound disconnected.  The pad with the three dimensional globe logo with yellow and red wires hanging from the back now sat in my friends grasping hand.  The horn was off and the steering wheel was essentially in two pieces.  

I didn't think the man driving this Geo Prism, holding the steering wheel in his left hand and the horn in his right could possibly get any angrier than he already was.  I was so wrong it was stupid. 

"Now what the f**k am I supposed to do?!" 

What I know/knew about cars is very minimal.  But using what little knowledge I had after witnessing the horn be pulled from its horn socket, I suggested that he just place it back from where it had once rested.  

My friend jammed the horn back where horns go, and with a little bit of finesse, and a little of the brute strength mentioned earlier, the horn was back in its horn home.  It wasn't blaring, and it wasn't in my friend's hand any more.  It seemed, at long last, the problem had been solved. 

I want you to keep in mind.  This is all happening as we are DRIVING.  

We went on about our merry way - the details on where we were going or what we were doing leave me now - but my bestie had calmed, he assured me that he was going to be alright.  The cruise had helped him cool off a little, even though the beginning was a little dicey.  Jason started back down Main Street to turn right at the bottom and drive up Route 133 and take me back home.

Much like any small town in the late afternoon there is a little bit of traffic.  We start down the steepest part of Main Street's hill and there are two cars in front of us.  We pass Ned's Place and come a bit closer to the cars in front of us.  A small pot hole rattles the interior of the Prism.  And a very quick, but very sharp "Meep!" blares from the horn.

Jason and I exchange a brief glance.  

We get closer to the bottom of the hill on Main street.  Another pot hole.  Another "Meep!"  Another brief glance, now with a bit more concern.  We now officially have the attention of the two cars in front of us. And most everyone on the sidewalk. 

In order to fully appreciate this you'd really have to know what Main Street in our little town of Winthrop looks like, and I hope that I'm painting a picture here, at the very bottom of the street there is a set of train tracks that protrude quite high and going over them in any vehicle makes quite jostle.  You can see where I'm going with this.  

Main Street.  Winthrop, ME

The first car bounces over the tracks and slows at the yield sign. The second crosses the tracks and pulls up behind car number one.  Here come Jason, Kyle and the Prism. We cross the tracks.  The shock absorbers absorb some of the shock, our heads rattle side to side a little and the horn again makes its presence know.  "Meep!  Me-meep!  Mee-Meep-meep!"  The driver of the second car actually turns around and gives us a look.

Wouldn't you know it, those two cars are apparently heading the exact same direction we are.  And the train tracks really pissed off the injured horn because now its just going off at random times all the way up Route 133.  "Meep!  Meep-Meep!  Meee-Mep!"

The drivers of the two cars in front of us are turning around, waving their hands in the air as if to say "what's your problem?!"

As a gesture of good will, Jason rolls his window down, sticks his left arm, shoulder, half his torso and head out the window and is yelling at these two cars "I JUST BROKE MY HORN! (MEEP!) MY HORN IS BROKEN! (MEE-MEEP-MEEP)  THIS ISN'T FOR YOU! (MEEEEEP)  IT'S JUST MY BROKEN HORN!"

I'm 100 percent certain that they believed him.

This is where I got out of the Prism.  Jason and I said our good byes for the day and he headed home.  I think that I heard one or two meeps as he drove off, but I'm not certain.  I'm also not certain how long his horn hung from the red and yellow wires that protruded from the steering wheel but he did eventually get it fixed.   

The moral of this story?  There really isn't one.  I just wanted to share with you one of the greatest stories I have ever told about one of the greatest guys I will ever know.  

    

Seeing What Sticks

I received a message from a friend the other day suggesting that perhaps I should write a new blog.  It has been a long time since I've actually sat down and tried to write something like this - that's not to say that I haven't tried.  There have been many times that I sat down and banged out a few paragraphs that were utter crap, and I just sat staring at the blinking cursor for minutes, hours...

Initially when I started writing these, I thought that it might be a weekly, bi-weekly or monthly installment of me being an obese guy becoming a bodybuilder.  It is most certainly a great story - on paper (or the internet).  But as I've walked this path for what is pushing five years now, I have to say that perhaps this story isn't going to have the ending that I wanted.

Making this weekly or bi-weekly is impossible for me.  I don't have the time, the energy or the ideas to make this worth while.  I know that none of you want to read what I eat every day, how I train every day, or what my weigh-in was.  Because no matter how hard I try, I cannot make those things fascinating or funny all the time.  It just can't happen.

I was obese.  That is something that has been written about and documented with photography, though most of those photos no longer exist.  Originally when I began writing these, I thought that my heaviest weight had been 397 pounds.  But the more I think about it, I actually think I remember seeing 407 on the scale.  I really cannot back that up, but perhaps a call to my doctor could make this fact instead of fiction.  I'm way off topic here.

In being as heavy as I was, it left me with a lot, I meal A LOT of excess skin.  Does that sound gross?  Whatever, you don't have to deal with it.  But the fact of the matter is that if I want to compete in and do well in bodybuilding, I would have to have some sort of skin removal surgery.  And the bottom line is I don't want to do that.  I can't afford it, I don't have time for the recovery, and I don't want to deal with that kind of pain.

You may have noticed that I said compete in and do well in bodybuilding.  I say that because if you don't want to be the best in what you're doing, why are you doing it at all?  If something is worth doing, do it right.

So before I move on, I'm going to write something that I've only told a handful of people.  Not like it's going to make press or anything, but I don't think that bodybuilding is for me.

I have nothing but respect and admiration for my friends who have or are going to compete in some form of bodybuilding event.  Maybe in another life, if I get a do-over, I can tell the younger me not to be such a man-bear-pig and take it easy on the Wendy's and do some more cardio.  But for now, I want to program my nutrition for a victory for me.  I want to train the way I want to train and have fun in the gym again.  I'm still going to set goals.  I'm still going to work, and work hard for them.  But the stage is a goal that I am not going to chase any longer.  At least not for a long time.

Jim Wendler posted something on his blog a while ago where he wrote a letter to his younger self.  I thought that was an awesome idea, so I'm kind of stealing it.  But, if I were to write a letter to my younger self using the same time frame Jim did, I would be 12.  Twelve year old me would have zero fascination to what I would tell him, nor would he read the letter.  He would tell Mom and Dad he did read it and try to fake it when he was quizzed on it.

The idea is still good, so maybe what I should do is just submit a bunch of things for a younger Kyle to read through.  It's not in letter format so what I'm doing is throwing a bunch of crap at the wall, and really hoping some of it will stick.

A younger Kyle, with no crap stuck to his wall.

TRAINING

-It's fantastic that you're into weightlifting.  But you're not going to be Ronnie Coleman, Kai Greene, Lou Ferrigno or Arnold.  Just because you train for a month, 6 months, a year, you're not any of these guys.  Don't act like you are.

-You WANT to be strong but you NEED be smart.  Read, research and find a program that will work for you.  Once you're on it, stick with it for AT LEAST 6 weeks.  If you don't see some results, start from square one.  Read, research and start again.

-Dave Tate, Jim Wendler, John Meadows, Joe DeFranco, Jim Smith.  Look them up, read their work.  You'll probably be impressed.

-Don't.  Skip.  Cardio.

-Don't.  Skip.  Cardio.

-Don't.  Skip.  Cardio.  See where I'm going with this?  But, under any circumstances do not rely on cardio for "weight" loss.  Use it as a tool for fat loss.

-Train hard.  Train smart.  These are not mutually exclusive ideas.

NUTRITION
-Stop justifying the food that you eat.  You're not training the right way to eat the amount of calories you're taking in.  Just because it has a lot of protein doesn't mean that its the right thing for you to eat.  Half a jar of peanut butter is not a snack.  Sun Chips are not a "healthy carb source".  A triple from Wendy's has 70 grams of protein.  It also has 72 grams of fat and 36 grams of carbs.  And you're eating two of them.  Bro.  Srs?

- Two liters of water isn't enough.  You're not going to get the rest of your water from energy drinks.  Yeah they taste good, but they have 70 grams of sugar.  Cut back on the E.D. and up your water intake.

-Eat before you workout.  Eat after you workout.  This is not negotiable.

-You can eat shit food sometimes.  SOMETIMES.  Counting macros works.  This is science.  Find out what your macros are and understand them.

-If you want to be less fat, you need to focus on your nutrition.

-Eat for your success.  Don't diet.

LIFE
-Stop watching so damn much TV.  98% of what you watch is absolute crap.  Of whats left 1% is nothing but lies, and the other 1% is reasonable to watch.  Please keep in mind that there is a 1% margin or error.

-Life is hard.  It's always going to be hard.  Focus on the good things.  It's the good things that keep you going.  It's the good things that make life worth living.

-Read.  Find a book you like and plow through it.  Then find another one.  And another.  It will make your mind smarter.  Remember what we said about training hard and smart.  Make that thing between your head strong as your body.

-You are going to struggle with your weight all your life.  You're going to feel good about yourself, and you're most certainly going to feel bad about yourself.  Stop having pity parties.  Fight through it.

-Acquaintances come and go.  Let them.  Friends are forever.  Sounds like something seventh grade girls would say to each other, but it's true.  You will know who your friends are.

-Taking care of yourself isn't selfish.  Taking care of your family and friends isn't selfish.  Do whats right for you and yours.  Period.

-Stay away from drama and people who feed off of it.  You will get sucked into that vortex and getting out is pretty damn tough.

-Some things are going to suck.  Some things are going to really suck.  Some things are going to really suck A LOT.  But, at the end of the day, you've been fed, you've got a home, and you have a wife that loves you.  Those three things can make the worst day the best day.

-You don't look good in hats.

An older Kyle, will all this crap stuck to his wall.

I think that's enough for now.  If you managed to suffer through this to get to the end, I most certainly appreciate it.  Perhaps it's not my best work, but then again maybe it is.  I don't know.  I'm a horrible critic of my own stuff. 

Until next time, stay strong.
~Brann