Completion: Part 1

I find a lot of irony in the post title - Completion:  Part 1.  If it's complete it's complete right? Maybe not...

Let us take a little journey back in time.  It's summer of 2009.  I'm 25 years old (hovering right around the 400 pound mark I feel like a broken record here, but it will come into play a little later).  I'm standing in the parking lot of North Country Harley Davidson in Augusta Maine, half listening to Mike who is showing me what my new purchase can do.  I was SO excited. 

My new purchase?  A 2000 Harley Davidson Road King.  It's older and it has high mileage but its a HARLEY.  A prized possession for a lot of bikers.  And it's not just any HD, it's a Road King.  A very nice motorcycle.  And now, it's MINE.  25 years old, with a Road King.  My Dad was in his 30s and had worked his ever-loving ass off before he had the opportunity to purchase a bike that wasn't quite as nice as this.  And this beauty is mine.  All.  Mine.

I loved it.  It was so very special to me.  Being around Harleys essentially my entire life, to finally own one was very surreal.  It's a lot of money, but it's worth it.  In Maine you can really only (comfortably) ride it for a couple months of the year, but it's worth it.  It can be dangerous, but it's worth it.  It's only going to drop in value, but it's worth it.

I dumped more money into this bike.  Took some of the lame-ass accessories the older gentleman who owned it before me off.  Added 20 inch ape hangers, and white wall tires.  Made it really me.  Dubbed it Lemmy after the front man from one of the greatest rock bands of all time.  Had plans to paint it solid black.  Make it even more me.  Literally thought I would ride this motorcycle until the wheels fell off.

The Road King AKA Lemmy

Then Kate, my wife, - who also loved riding on the back of The Road King - began working at a hospital.  One of her first patients was a man who was in a horrible motorcycle accident.  He was in ICU for almost three months.  It really, really shook her.  She was scared every time I tossed a leg over.  But I reassured her that I don't ride my bike the way that guy did.  I wear a helmet, I'm not aggressive, I don't speed, I'm extra cautious.  I even used the example that my Dad, a man who's been riding for 30 years or so, had been down, but had never been in a serious accident.

Then Dad was in a serious accident.  Maybe serious isn't the best word I can use to describe it.  Regardless,  he was in an accident and despite making a very valid argument to not go, "I'm fine", went to the hospital.

I was a little scared, and Kate was downright terrified of me riding my motorcycle.  Lemmy sat idle in the garage for almost two years because every time I even mentioned going for a ride, Kate would well up with tears and a discussion would ensue.  And ultimately I would end up taking my truck instead of my bike because that's what Kate wanted.

Some may call that pussy whipped.  I call that respect for your significant other. Guys and gals I have to tell you - you should never have to ask permission or grant permission to your partner.  That's not to say you should buy a Lamborghini or a plot of land in the Everglades without first consulting the other 50 percent of your income first - but you're in a relationship.  Your wife, husband, partner isn't a parent, and you're not theirs.  Permission isn't a word that married people should use when speaking about one another. 

Whipped

I told you all this back story to tell you something really simple.  I sold my motorcycle.  And I made enough to do something I've been wanting to do for a long, long time.  I put a gym in my house.

I think a lot of meatheads like myself have always wanted their own gym.  Something that's yours, built the way you want it.  With the equipment that you want.  A gym that allows you to train the way you want to train and do the thing that most commercial or private gyms won't let you. 

I've been training at my gym for just about a month now.  And a few days ago after I had finished my workout, I was sitting on my bench and I was looking around at my gym.  I thought minus a few odds and ends, the gym is complete.  It's stuff I want, not stuff I need.  It really is complete. 

HeadCat Barbell - Thank you Lem.

Then I looked at myself.  I'm not complete.  I had (have) become  quite complacent in my nutrition and my training.  Going through the motions with both.  Hovering around 260 pounds (four pound swing up or down since January) and doing a lot of the same stuff with lifting has left me feeling very stagnant and unhappy with myself.  And saying "well look how far you've come" has gotten really old.  I don't want to just come this far, I need to go further. 

This is why it's Completion:  Part 1.

I, like most people, work best when I have a goal and when I have a deadline.  So I set one.  I'm giving myself until Sunday June 3, 2018 to hit my goal(s).  90 days.  I'm challenging myself to become complete. Well, more complete anyway.

The Goals:
Do some form of training every day.  (30-60 minutes walks COUNT as training)
No cheat meals until 3/25/18 (20 days) then 1 cheat meal per month.
Lose 15 pounds
Have some form of visible abs by 6/3/18

3/5/18:
260.8 pounds
42 inch waist (measured at navel)

19 inch left bicep (measured flexed)

26 inch left thigh (measured 6 inches from knee cap)

Perhaps this installment hasn't been filled with as much inspiration or humor as my last few.  But I'm putting this out there for accountability more than anything.  I don't much believe in putting your whole life on social media, it's not my deal.  But I think having 10, 20, 100 or more people taking a look at this 90 days from the start will give me the extra kick in the arse that I really need.

I know, I KNOW that I can hit my goals.  I can tighten up my nutrition.  I can focus my training.  I can do it.  I've done it before, and damn it, I'm GOING to do it again.  And if YOU need a kick in the arse too, do this with me.  Start today.  90 days from today.  Take your measurements, weigh yourself twice (now and 90 days from now).  Get your nutrition in order and get your training in order.  It's a call to arms.  It's time to annihilate the gym, eat like you give a shit, smash some goals and take your life back! 

So I'm asking you dear reader and friend, please check in with me at the beginning of June.  I'm lining them up.  Now it's time to knock them down.

"You're either in, or your in the way"  ~ Mark Bell

Until next time - stay strong. 

-Brann

Believe Me

I would never disparage anyone from believing in anything.  And I'll tell you why:

Some people believe in God.  Some people believe in aliens and bigfoot.  Some people believe that Elvis didn't die.  I personally believe that Jim Morrison is alive and well (albeit chubby, with a big white beard - Santa Clause esque, really) living in up state New York playing open mic nights.  But the bottom line here is that EVERYONE believes in SOMETHING.  Side note, if you don't know who Jim Morrison is, get up and walk out THE DOOR(S) and find out.  Perhaps this is a strange way to start a blog but you'll see where I'm going.

Belief is a strange thing when you get down to the nitty gritty.  You invest a lot of yourself in a thought.  Something that you know, deep down in the very fiber of your being is one hundred percent true.  And a lot of the time, you don't really know why.  Perhaps it's something that you've been told or taught since you were a child.  Perhaps it's something that you've seen and you just know that it's true.  For whatever reason you hold that thought sacred and it's your belief.  It's yours.  You keep it.  You own it.  It's with you.  All.  The.  Time.

Belief carries over to all aspects of your life.  My beliefs - they carry over to one thing that I'm very passionate about.  Fitness.  My fitness.  My fat loss.  Being the best physically that I can be.  

But you know what's funny about beliefs?  They can change.  They are the strongest things that you will ever know - until they aren't.  

Is your mind blown yet?  Mine is.

I believed that the only way to lose fat was to cut my carbs down to under 100 grams of carbs every day.  Now, several days per week, I now eat in excess of 250 grams of carbs.  I now weigh 60 pounds less than I did when I was eating 100 (or less) grams of carbs.  

I believed that squatting til I puked, deadlifting until my spine was broken, and benching until my eyes bled was the only way to pack on size and get strong.  I may not be the strongest that I ever was, BUT, I'm leaner, I have more muscle than I ever have, and if programmed correctly I know that I can get my totals back to or above where they were.  Annnndddd I did this all using machines, dumbbells, and A LOT less squatting than I used to do.  

I believed that warming up and cooling down, stretching and foam rolling was for pussies.  It took up too much time away from the squat rack.  I ached ALL the time, I had trouble walking and I couldn't tie my shoes without severe pain.  Warm-ups, foam rolling and pre-hab are now a staple in every one of my workouts.  Ask anyone who has trained with me and they'll tell you after 7 or 8 warm-up sets. 

I believed I hate "arm day".  I believe I still hate "arm day" but in order for one to be jacked, tan and juicy AF you have to do some direct arm work.  But you can sprinkle that nonsense in on a couple of training days and get those guns to grow.  After all, pythons have to eat.

I believed that I would never be able to do sets of pull-ups. Then I started "greasing the groove" - get your dirty minds out of the gutter.  Gross.  "Greasing the Groove" is another name for the cumulative method.  I could do a set of 3 or 4 chin ups at a time.  So I started doing sets of 3.  Then I started doing sets of 4, then 5, then 6.  Finally I got up to sets of 10.  Now I can do sets of 3 or 4 pull-ups.  Guess what method I'm going to use?  That groove is going to be greased soon.  Don't.  Be.  Nasty.

I believe that people will always talk shit.  I hate to use profanity here but it's true.  I don't think I have a lot of "haters" because I cut a lot of those people out of my life.  If I do - good - that means I'm doing something right.  But even people I don't know will talk shit.  I got called fat a couple of weeks ago.  And you know what?  It hurt just as much that day as it did the first time it happened when I was 6 years old.  But that's just people talking shit.  

Piggybacking off of the previous belief - I believe that you need to cut negativity out of your life.  And that means sometimes you have to say goodbye to people or places.  You need to surround yourself with good vibes.  Now I'm no crystal-gripping, tree-hugging,  hippie, but there is something about "good vibes" that make life easier.  I've said goodbye to "friends" and acquaintances, I've stopped going to certain places and I avoid mass-complainers because that does nothing but bring me down.  And guess what champ?  Stuff like that will ruin your workout, blow your buzz, poop in your punch bowl and make you have a case of the Mondays.  Even on a Friday.  So if that means taking your red Swingline stapler and listening to your radio at a reasonable volume,do it.  

Milton believes you have his stapler.

I believed that fear was crippling.  I would never, ever want to be scared of anything.  I hated horror movies, I hated the dark, I hated heights, I was basically scared of my own shadow.  It was a BIG shadow...  Then I watched a scary movie.  Then another and another. I read scary books.  I would walk (not run) in the dark.   I took flights on air planes and climbed to the top of towers (using the stairs of course).  These might seem like little victories over what some might think are little fears, but it's facing fears that allows you to push 400 pounds away from your chest, lift 500 pounds off the floor, go for that job that you were scared you wouldn't get or ask out that special someone you thought you wouldn't have a chance with.  Fear isn't the only fuel, but it's a good kick in the pants when you need one.  And don't forget:  fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering...some knowledge from Master Yoda right there.

I believed that you had to follow Program X, Program Y or Program Z to accomplish your goals.  I believed that you had to do what he or she did in order to get the results that he or she got.  But you know what - sometimes you have to do what works for you.  Modify, pull stuff out, put stuff in, change, scale.  Don't bastardize the program entirely (especially if you paid for the thing) but, do whatever you need to do to get where you want to be.  Don't let the internet (or this blog) tell you what works for you.  Bottom line you know you better than anyone. 

You know what I never believed in?  Myself.  For - lets be conservative here - the first 28 years of my life I never believed in Kyle.  I was insecure in my knowledge, my talent, by strength, my fortitude and everything I had.  I was spineless and gutless.  According to that description I was just a head, torso and legs.  Very inconvenient.  But something changed.  I got stronger (physically and mentally).  I got confidence in the things that I did.  I started to believe in myself.  And my strengths got stronger and my confidence grew.  I became a better employee, husband, athlete and overall person.

At the end of the day, you have to believe in yourself.  I didn't want the end of this blog to turn into some sort of Disney cartoon, but friends, you HAVE to believe in yourself.  You have to trust your instincts and do whats right.  You have to look inside yourself and believe that you can accomplish the goals that you set forth.  If you don't have that faith, your mom, dad, cousin, aunt, uncle, wife, husband, friends or anyone thinking you can do it will matter.  If you don't think you can, you won't.

I haven't accomplished all my goals, and quite frankly some of them are so lofty that I may never accomplish all of them.  But you know what?  I believe I can.

Doing my best "Little Engine That Could" impression.

Until next time - stay strong.

~Brann

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

S.D.M.F.

A lot has happened since I sat down and wrote my last blog.  I have gained weight and I have lost weight.  I'm always meticulously counting my macros.  My workouts have sucked, and then my workouts have gotten better.  I have changed jobs...again.  Kate and I are closer to being married. And I am best friends with an IFPA Pro Bodybuilder.  That's right.  Jason Childs went three for three with his shows and won his pro card.  And then won a pro show.  The guy's a freak.

I'm very proud of him not just because he won.  Because he did it all while balancing work, being a loving husband, and one of the best fathers I have ever seen.  He has also introduced me to some great people who are helping me on my journey.  These guys and gals have become such great supporters and friends.  They are all very driven and motivated people.  Surround yourself with like-minded people and greatness will happen.

Not to get sappy, but Jason said something to me when he won his last show that really meant a lot to me.  Kate wasn't able to make it to this show.  I was the only one there that didn't have his significant other.  I made a joke when we took the group picture and said, "here's fifth wheel Kyle".  After the picture was taken Jason hugged me, smeared my shirt with Dream Tan and said words that I will never forget.

"You are not a fifth wheel ever.  You belong here."  Simple words, with huge impact and meaning.  

Now then, lets dive in.  I like heavy metal music.  You probably know this by now.  Black Label Society has a song called S.D.M.F. and the words give me inspiration.  SDMF has become part of my life, though I have tweaked it a bit.  I took out the 'merciless' and replaced it with 'motivation'.  Though merciless has its place - you'll see what I mean.

What does each of these words mean to me?  Quite a bit actually.  Each one has a multitude of meanings that help shape my life.  Make no mistake, I have not shaped my life after a heavy metal song, my wardrobe maybe but not my life.  

Strength
What is true strength?  Does it mean being able to lift X number of pounds off the floor, push X number of pounds off your chest/over your head or squat X number of pounds for reps?  Yes.  Does true strength mean grinding out two or three more reps at the end of your last set?  Yes.  Does true strength mean doing that extra set or that last 10 minutes of cardio?  Yes.  In my mind that is true strength.  But, strength is also the ability to say no to cheating on your diet.  Strength is drinking water or a diet soda when all your friends are having beer/wine or whatever.  Strength is eating your pre-made meal out of your Tupperware when all your friends at work ordered Domino's.  For someone who has struggled with overeating their whole life, I think that latter is what true strength is.

Does that sound stupid?  It kind of is.  But not everyone has ever sought refuge in food.  I have.  There are days that food is a non-issue for me.  There are days where I can just use food for what it truly is, fuel.  That's not to say that I don't like to enjoy eating it, but it really is just fuel.  For the day, for the workouts, to replenish after the workout, you know, all that crap. 

But there are days that I walk down the aisle in the grocery stores and cravings hit so hard that it's almost undeniable.  It's like my brain shuts off and my emotions take over.  I want to get whatever I want to eat, take it home, eat it (ALL OF IT), and then I sit there in the reality of my failure with shame and crumbs on my now distended gut, and realize how weak I actually was.

Bottom line is be strong.  Lift your weights.  Do your cardio.  Don't cheat on your diet (by that I mean eat within your boundaries not clean eating VS IIFYM - holy crap I don't need to have this discussion AGAIN).  Do what you need to do.

Determination 

This is an easy one to define.  Set a damn goal and go for it.  Know what you need to and do it.  Know how you need to lift, and lift that way.  Know what you need to do for cardio and do it.  Follow YOUR diet.  Get smarter.  Get help.  Ask questions.

If this means getting up at 4AM to do your cardio, do it.  If it means doing all your meal prep Sunday nights, do it.  True determination means sticking to your guns, putting your head phones in and grinding out your workouts, eating your meals and wading through all the bullshit.  Believe me, there is a lot of it.

Determination isn't something you can fake - you can't go through the motions.  You can clearly tell the difference between the truly determined, and those who aren't.  Typically the person who IS determined doesn't say a whole lot about it.  They just do it.  The person who IS NOT determined will more than happily tell you about how determined they are but will secretly over or under eat, sluff off with their meal prep, will skip workouts (especially leg day), give their cardio the brush off and spends a majority of their time in the gym chatting up the front desk staff and scrolling the news feed on a bench.

Motivation/Merciless

Me with IFPA Pro & Pink fan, Jason Childs

OK, so we actually can put motivation up with determination.  One who is truly motivated will do all the things that I listed above, or their own version of it.  The reason I say that, is because my goals are different than his, and hers, and probably yours.  There is no master plan.  There is more than one way to achieve victory...I digress...

Motivation is something that comes from within.  It's not watching a bunch of clips on YouTube.  It's not that one song that you need to put on.  It's not the poster of Arnold, or Tom Brady or whomever.  At the end of the day, your motivation comes from you.  I'm not saying that those things don't help motivate you.  If you need to picture yourself as Arnold or TB12 to do your best, do it.  If you need to listen to Just Give Me A Reason by Pink and that dude from FUN - I'm looking at you Jason Childs - do it.  But those are just fuel to your fire.  YOU need to be the spark.

Merciless is different.  There are only two things that I am truly merciless with:  my time and my diet.  I sacrifice sleep, family time, and outings with friends because I need to get my lift or cardio or both for the day.  I sacrifice cakes, pies, pizza, beer because sometimes you just can't make them fit your macros - sometimes you can.  Is that what merciless truly is?  Probably not.  But sometimes people have to realize that you will do whatever it takes to accomplish a goal.  I want to be a bodybuilder.  Period.  I will be merciless and do what I have to do.

Forever
When I say FOREVER at the end SDMF I think that means your committed to being strong FOREVER.  You're committed to being determined FOREVER and you will be motivated and merciless FOREVER.

Forever is a very, very long time.  It's it.  There's nothing longer than forever.  Someday, I think that we all will find out just how long forever actually is, but until then I'm just going to keep counting my macros, lifting heavy crap and sweating balls on the StairMaster.

S.D.M.F.
-Brann

Team Grit - Where I Belong

Dumb. Smart.

Well it finally happened.  I turned 30.  When I was 15, I never, ever thought that I would be 30 years old.  It seemed like it was an unimaginable age.  When I was 20, I was never going to be 30.  I was strong as an ox.  I could go into the gym and constantly make gains.  My form would be crap and the programming was garbage but the numbers would still go up. I could eat whatever I wanted whenever I wanted because when the time comes I could just "take it off".  The "old timers" would give me advice on do this and do that, and I would just brush it off be cause I was twenty-something.  I was INVINCIBLE. 

I was stupid.

Let's take a little trip back in time shall we?

At 25 years old I was almost 400 pounds with no idea on how to "take it off".  I was full blown fat.  I was what I wanted to be.  A "strongman".  I did what I wanted to do, I accomplished a goal - but there was still an astounding lack of intelligence on my part.

Any form of programming in the gym was nil and my GPP was in the toilet.  To give you an idea on how out of shape I was, I could barely tie my shoes, walk up a flight of stairs or run more than 10 feet without having to take a break.  I would be red as a tomato and sweating bacon grease.  Let's put it this way, I couldn't even jump to a conclusion.  Late in 2009 I lost my desk job which was the catalyst that started this whole thing.

Fast forward three years and I have dropped about 85 pounds.  I'm a personal trainer and doing what I love to do.  I feel better about myself and am still strong - this was an absolute obsession of mine for many, MANY years.  I didn't care what I looked like, I didn't care about aesthetics.  All I cared about was the number on the bar.  Totals, man.  Totals.

5/3/1 was the program to beat all programs.  My life revolved around 45 pound plates, my power belt, and chalk.  Biceps curls were stupid.  If you weren't squatting, benching or deadlifting, you were useless. So what that I was still over 300 on the scale.  My total (there's that word again) was over 1500!  Raw!  The thought of "saucing up" went through my mind on a fairly regular basis, and I thought that this was the ONLY way to workout.

It's now 2013, only a year later.  I get a wild notion that I, Kyle Brann, formerly obese strongman turned 5/3/1 powerlifting disciple am going to do a bodybuilding show in October.  Not just any bodybuilding show.  A natural bodybuilding show.  I haven't "dieted" in years.  Let me be honest.  I hadn't dieted ever.  When I first went to see a nutritionist I weighed 311 pounds.   I had a stipulation too, if I can't be ready by October (it was April), I will never be ready.  Hello stupidity, nice to meet you.

Here we are, 2015.  You've all read (hopefully) about my journey so far.  You've read about the trials and tribulations that have come my way.  Different nutritionists, injuries, and set-backs.  Motivation and lack-there-of.  Different training splits, my weight goes up, my weight goes down.  I track my macros, I track my training.  More cardio, less cardio.  Egg whites and broccoli.  Pop Tarts and peanut butter.  Blah blah blah.  Things are different.  They've changed.  For the good.

It has been the wildest ride of my life.  I can't even begin to contain it with words.  I wish I can explain how badly I wish I knew then what I know now.  And keep in mind, I'm still very, very green at bodybuilding.  I am doing the absolute best that I possibly can with the tools that have been provided to me.  And am very grateful for all the knowledge that has been presented to me.

To give you an idea on how much things have changed for me since I started this journey I'm currently in a reverse diet (a few years ago I didn't even know what that was).  I'm eating carbs.  A lot of carbs.  Which for any of you who have been carb depleted know, is a lot more fun than NOT eating carbs.  I don't need 400+ grams of protein per day, and there is no need to do five to six hour of cardio per week.

I no longer am "chasing a show".  For the longest time I thought it went a little something like this:  "There's a show on XX/XX/XX, so I'm going to start dieting down on XX/XX/XX.  Get my training in order and I'll slap some Dream Tan on and BOOM!"  Sorry to say it doesn't work like that.  I wish it did, because I would have been on stage by now.  I would've looked like a complete idiot, but I would have done it. 

I'm hurt.  I hurt all the time now.  10 years of carrying around A LOT of excess weight and some of the worst form you'd ever see have left me with constant hip and low-back pain.  My knees ache - also weight related.  My elbows hurt when I do chin-ups and if I'm not warm, I can't train.  Ask anyone who lifts with me, I typically do a minimum of 3-4 warm-up sets on almost everything.  My warm-ups may take a while, you may be tired before we start the work sets, but your joints won't be in agony when you wake up.  Remember those "old timers"?  I should've listened.

Squatting and deadlifting, two of my most favorite things don't happen as often as I would like them to anymore.  With the pain in my back (that has gotten worse over the past two months or so) I can't do them as much.  So I have been doing a ton of squat variations, and Trap Bar deadlifting is awesome!  It's all a matter of training around and not through.  Training through gets you were I am now.  Hurt.

One of the most important things that I have learned is make it a part of your life.  Don't let it consume your life.  Family first.  A very best friend of mine says that all the time.  It's OK to have your macros on point, it's OK to make time in your schedule for gym time - even double sessions if you need to, but don't sacrifice your family for it.  I recently got engaged to Kate.  She is my world.  If I didn't have her all I would have is the gym.  I love the gym.  It doesn't love me back.  Kate does.  I'll let that sink in for a second.

Have fun.  At the end of the day, this is never going to be my career.  I don't think that bodybuilding is ever going to pay my bills.  At least COMPETING in bodybuilding won't pay my bills.  I have dreams and aspirations.  I have goals, but I want this journey to be something that I can pass on.  I want to inspire people.  I want to be a reason (not THE reason) someone decides to change their lifestyle.  If it's "work", if you feel like you "have to" do it, then I think that you're not doing it right. 

Training has always been something that I WANT to do.  I WANT to go to the gym I WANT to track my macros.  If I HAD to go to the gym, if I HAD to track my food I think that this would be a blog about what kind of soup I made on Monday, not how I have 150 grams of carbs left today and how I did pit squats last weekend...

Until next time, stay strong.

~Brann

Quit Digging

"If you find yourself in a hole, quit digging."  Roy Rogers said that.

I first saw that about two weeks ago, when I went in to do some cleaning at the restaurant that I used to work at.  Used to being the key phrase there.

This wasn't just any restaurant.  This was my restaurant.  Now, by mine, I mean that I was the head chef.  Kate was the general manager.  Her parents owned it.  We all put a lot of time, money and a whole lot of effort into it.  And I would be lying if I said it didn't hurt a whole lot when we locked the doors for the last time. 

Now, I'm not going to go into a lot of detail about it because the past is the past.  A combo of things led up to the inevitable closing; poor location, poor parking for customers, and struggling economy are just some of the things that made us shut down. 

I'm really trying to have a positive outlook in this whole situation, I was able to walk right back to my job at United Fitness, and I learned a lot of lessons about running a business.  I learned what a manager truly does, and I dare say that I really tested my grit - working countless hours in a sweltering kitchen to make sure every plate was as perfect as it could be. 

On a side note, if you have never worked in a kitchen, on a line, you don't know what suck is.  The ambient temperature some days was 130 degrees, your chef's coat is soaked and you barely have time to take a drink of water because the slips are stacking up.  Take into consideration that sometimes you are by yourself, or a man down, and that brings the suck up to 10.  Not to say its the toughest job in the world, far from it, but now I can see why a lot of chefs have a drink or 12 at the end of the night - I digress. 

Now taking that quote back into consideration, I believe that I can apply that to all aspects of my life.  I know that I can apply that to my nutrition.  As you well know, that nutrition has been a huge part of this journey that I am on, and write about it quite frequently.  I was in a hole, I stopped digging.  I had hit a massive stalling point in my weight loss.  I was eating egg whites and broccoli.  I was doing five to six cardio sessions per week.  My weight didn't change and my body fat percentage stayed exactly the same.  I found a new coach - a smarter coach - I guess you could say I started to climb out of the hole.

Now in a matter of weeks, my body fat dropped a point and my weight dipped and has gone back up, slightly, which I don't give a damn about.  But I feel better now than I have in months.  I'm doing minimal cardio and guess what, I'm eating carbs.  GASP!

I'm starting to really get an understanding about nutrition and applying it to your training, because at the end of the day, they do go hand in hand.

When it comes to training, I have started incorporating some new ideas, as well as some classic favorites (if you have never checked out Mountain Dog Training, you really should, it is by far, my most favorite "bodybuilding" type of workout I have tried) as well as some "fat burner" lifting sessions.  To shed a little light on that, "fat burner" lifting is high reps and lower weight with some high intensity cardio woven into it.  Out of the training hole.

Now the last hole I wanted to quit digging (and get the hell out of) was a negativity hole.  Sometimes you just find yourself adrift in a sea of suck.  Work sucks.  Your workouts suck.  Your dinner sucks.  The guy in the silver Honda Civic in front of you at the traffic light with the 'Id rather be driving' bumper sticker sucks too.  You don't know him, but he sucks.  No matter what side of the bed you get up on, your day is just going to be complete and utter crap.

Now, you can change this.  You can get up and just let all the problems of the world roll off your back and slap a smile on your face.  Sound corny?  That's because it is.  You don't need to go out and try to set the world on fire.  You don't need to make the world all sunshine and rainbows.  You just need to get up, and do what you need to do.

Do your job to the best of your ability.  Whether you are flipping burgers at McDonald's or you are the CEO of a bank.  Be the best damn burger flipper that Ronald has ever seen. 

You  don't need to look like Arnold at the end of every workout.  Its leg day, and you're tired, and you ate like crap today, and you don't want to go the gym.  But you do because its on your way home.  You walk in, you do some squats, leg extensions, leg curls and some lunges.  The workout sucked and you felt weak, but you know what, you did it any way.  It's better than just going home (most of the time that is).  Enough of those days, and you're bound to hit your stride sometime. 

I'll leave you with this final thought.  I hadn't hit my stride in quite a while.  I was un-motivated and down.  I didn't want to workout anymore and I didn't want to care about what I ate.  Then a very dedicated, educated, hard-working friend sent me a message that really made me think, and quite frankly, quit feeling sorry about myself.  I know that I have a lot of people following me, and wanting me to succeed on this journey.  And the fact that all of you want me to succeed, will ultimately make me succeed.

Thank you to all of you who follow this, and follow me and my example.  Thank you for all of you who will me to win and who force me to be better for me, and for you. 

So lets stop digging these holes, and make some magic happen. 

Until next time, stay strong.

-Brann