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This is more of a fitness update than a funny story. Or maybe it’s visa versa. I just write the stuff…

Since returning to the land of the fit I have dropped 18 pounds (182 with shoes off) since January. I’m about the same weight I was when I graduated high school. Just as strong but older, and slower to recover, and I have to count calories, and … anyway… During college I lived in the gym. When I escaped UGA I was a solid 220 and shockingly powerful. Then came the blissful decline.

Not so long ago I weighed in at a fat and pitiful 255 lbs – that was grossly obese and just plain gross. Late in 2012 I made major changes and have lived at an appropriate weight ever since. Two summers ago I dropped into the low 170s. That was a little light, I think. I wasn’t lifting much but I lost all surface fat and flab. Anyway, again, around this New Year’s Day I found myself at 199.9 lbs. I am proud of my progress. All it takes is a little culinary discipline and time with the heavy iron things.

The other day I handled such devices. After a decent bench-press session (topping out at 275 for 5 reps [not to shabby for 182!]) I did some incline dumbbell presses. My first set was with relatively light weights but I was shaky and off-balance which I attributed to old age and fatigue. I was readying for set number two when some dude walked up and said, “you know you have two different weights there.” So I did! I’m not old and weak, just blind and inattentive. I replaced the heavier one…

Later I decided to finish up with some flyes on the peck deck machine. A real cutie of about 25-30 was using it. She politely asked me if I wanted to work in. Delirious from my previous work I mumbled “yes”. She confidently said something about having a plan. I laughed and started telling her about my foibles with mismatched weights and being old. When I finished my ramble she was gone. I hope my senile babbling didn’t interfere with her plan though I was happy to get the machine all for myself.

Today was a shoulder and arm routine followed by Judo throws (dummy) and bag work. This is excellent cardio training with an even better purpose. I was thinking about Houdini the jihadi, similar street attacks,and how to counter them. Specifically, today I was thinking about how to approach (from behind) multiple thugs beating a victim. Like this:

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The walking sacks of sh!t in black were part of a pack beating the white man with the ripped white shirt (their work). Several others were off camera to the right. I think this was just prior to or just after Houdini’s chase and tackle. It could have been part of the same scene; hard to piece together from the videos. This stuff is real and getting worse by the day. The question in my mind was how would a civilized man respond to such a situation (without crudely resorting to a .45ACP or a Ka-bar – not that those are bad things…).

I had to image a hapless victim. Also, lacking walking sacks of sh!t (SOS) I substituted a line of four six-foot, 200 lbs heavy bags. My plan was to approach the first one (representing the sucker throwing the sucker punch above) slightly off-center and drop a heavy left elbow to the base of the skull/neck area. Note, this is potentially lethal – do not attempt at home. Actually, a mob – even unarmed – can constitute lethal force and a victim or intervening third-party is entitled to meet force with force. Or so it was in the old America. Where was I??? I then planned to slid over to SOS number two and land a right hammer-fist on his neck. Note, these are not “sporting” moves unless, of course, the sport is thug hunting.

Executed correctly this likely would have cleared the street. The other SOS thugs were out for a little fun, not a fight with someone willing to kill from the outset. They would have scattered immediately. If not they would have likely stood stunned thus making easy pickings.

I did not execute correctly – good enough for the street but not without consequences for me in the gym. I started dead centered between my hanging SOSs when I should have been closer to the one on the left. The elbow went off without a hitch though I found myself a little off-balance and perhaps a little further forward than I should have been. I was also closer to fake SOS number two. Rather than a hammer I launched more of a backhand right side jab. This may have worked better given the shortened range. I followed it up immediately with another hard left elbow – more of a power cross than a sweep. It would have worked well, technical imperfections aside.

For the finish I stepped forward and to the side to face off with the remaining fake SOSs. I halted the drill, realizing something was off. At close range and with rapid recoil my side jab had come back and, yes, I punched myself in the mouth… It didn’t stop me from improvising an end for SOS no. 2 and I would like to think in real life I would have continued unabated with the remaining garbage.

As it was, I stopped and pondered my clumsiness. Age? Balance? Blind? What was it? I still can’t come up with an explanation other than”sometimes the bag does hit back…” I loosened a tooth just enough to solicit a drop of blood. It didn’t hurt and has already tightened back up.

Tomorrow I’m going to try to use this rambling, sad story on another hottie with a plan so as to have equipment for myself. That’s my plan.

On a less pathetic note today I received the following fine and FREE t-shirt:

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The “MF” stands for “My Father” not something else… “H-2K-CT” stands for the El Centurion, Habano 2000 from My Father Cigars.

If … when I wear this shirt to the gym I’m hoping no further mishaps occur. That’s the moral of this tedious story.  Or not.

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