It's That Time of the Year Again?
Despite all my fancy-pants education, contentment with the simple things in life, and relative emotional stability - deep down, at my core, I'm still a pretty bad person to f*ck with. I'm not trying to pat myself on the back... But for a non-professional athlete with limited training in the last few years, I still have very solid southpaw boxing, head motion, leg & body kicks, knees, elbows, stomps, front kick and standing clinch work. I have several years total of judo, freestyle wrestling and BJJ training as well, should a fight go to the ground.
Of course, none of that means squat if you aren't in decent physical shape. Despite having less and less time to work out, due to all of my responsibilities to those around me, I can still run flat-out for 1 ~ 2 miles before I have to jog, and 5 ~ 10 mile paced runs over variable terrain aren't out of the question. I don't have fancy-ass workout clothes, or an exclusive membership to some obnoxiously lit heavily-mirrored gym with a D.J. spinning tunes. I'm wearing work pants, heavy boots, and an everyday tee-shirt while doing drills and hill-sprints with two 25 lbs. barbell plates strapped to my hands. Hell, I don't even have to warm up. I can shoot off Hindu pushups, squats, back bridges, leg splits and high kicks even before I've taken my morning piss. Just the same, I can do sustained near-full speed boxing and kickboxing drills and footwork for 10 minutes, with very little warm up.
I'm in close to the WORST physical shape I've ever been in my life, with the exception of the hellatious final year I lived in Evanston after damaging both ankles, and yet I'm still physically well above average. I don't try to be some big badass, to placate my ego. If I wanted to stroke my ego, I'd be all over everyone, elbowing trash-mouth di*kheads across the face, showing off to people how I can casually kick a target 7½ feet off the ground, do handstand pushups in front of a crowd, front-flip over walls, somersault over the roof of parked cars, or other showboat bulls*it like that. Or, maybe I'd start training hard, and do even crazier stuff that'll blow everyone away. But, I don't have to, because I'm not some insecure douchebag attention-whore.
I'm naturally and instinctively a bad dude to mess with. But, like clockwork - every 8 or 9 months - some people seem to get lulled by my decent grammar, relative eloquence, humble appearance, common sense approach to life, and lack of constant crotch-grabbing showboat antics into thinking I'm someone to trifle with. And, just like every other time, it seems like I have to now go around and be an assh*le, just to remind people that I'm not some big cuddly doofus keyboard warrior, whose approach to anger management isn't destroying your kidneys or liver with body shots, if some hotshot-wannabe prick tries to make sport of me.
Of course, none of that means squat if you aren't in decent physical shape. Despite having less and less time to work out, due to all of my responsibilities to those around me, I can still run flat-out for 1 ~ 2 miles before I have to jog, and 5 ~ 10 mile paced runs over variable terrain aren't out of the question. I don't have fancy-ass workout clothes, or an exclusive membership to some obnoxiously lit heavily-mirrored gym with a D.J. spinning tunes. I'm wearing work pants, heavy boots, and an everyday tee-shirt while doing drills and hill-sprints with two 25 lbs. barbell plates strapped to my hands. Hell, I don't even have to warm up. I can shoot off Hindu pushups, squats, back bridges, leg splits and high kicks even before I've taken my morning piss. Just the same, I can do sustained near-full speed boxing and kickboxing drills and footwork for 10 minutes, with very little warm up.
I'm in close to the WORST physical shape I've ever been in my life, with the exception of the hellatious final year I lived in Evanston after damaging both ankles, and yet I'm still physically well above average. I don't try to be some big badass, to placate my ego. If I wanted to stroke my ego, I'd be all over everyone, elbowing trash-mouth di*kheads across the face, showing off to people how I can casually kick a target 7½ feet off the ground, do handstand pushups in front of a crowd, front-flip over walls, somersault over the roof of parked cars, or other showboat bulls*it like that. Or, maybe I'd start training hard, and do even crazier stuff that'll blow everyone away. But, I don't have to, because I'm not some insecure douchebag attention-whore.
I'm naturally and instinctively a bad dude to mess with. But, like clockwork - every 8 or 9 months - some people seem to get lulled by my decent grammar, relative eloquence, humble appearance, common sense approach to life, and lack of constant crotch-grabbing showboat antics into thinking I'm someone to trifle with. And, just like every other time, it seems like I have to now go around and be an assh*le, just to remind people that I'm not some big cuddly doofus keyboard warrior, whose approach to anger management isn't destroying your kidneys or liver with body shots, if some hotshot-wannabe prick tries to make sport of me.