My chest is officially dead.
And I'm officially fucking insane.
Oh, overtraining? What? What's that? I've never heard of this "overtraining," before. Are you smoking something? You can overtrain a muscle group? This was all sarcasm, by the way.
In an attempt to emulate Boot-Camp conditions with adequate nutrition, in order to bring about hypertrophy of my pectorals and deltoids - that'd be chest and shoulders, if you went through some head trauma recently and aren't back to full-steam when it comes to physiological terminology - I've been doing an ass-load of push-ups in addition to basic PT (which is also predominantly push-ups) and the usual resistance work-out. Guess what? That resistance work-out? Yeah, today, it was chest and triceps. Fuck. I'd say I've done several hundred push-ups today, at the very least - it's at a rate of twenty every fifteen minutes when I'm not training otherwise or sleeping or eating, as long as I'm home. So, I got done with the resistance work-out at around four, got something to eat, continued the masochistic little regimen until six, when I PT'd and ate again, then continued it to nine PM, when I ate the last meal of the day. So altogether, we're looking at twenty-eight times twenty, plus five sets of twenty normal push-ups along with five sets of clap-push-ups during PT. So close to seven-hundred push-ups. Around 685. Godfuckingdamnit. The worst part is that I want to keep doing them. It's not so much that it hurts now, because a set of twenty push-ups isn't very hard at all, but that my energy levels have officially jumped off of a cliff, and it's only going to be worse tomorrow, because I won't have gotten enough sleep.
Other than that, I think I'm going to start running again, or swimming, at the very least. The only bad part is that the muscle-mass I've got now is practically non-existent, and it's going to be hard to keep myself from running the hour-long sessions I used to. Twenty or thirty minutes, that's it. If you'd've told me six month ago that I'd be forcing myself to tone the exercise down, I'd've thought you were completely fucking insane.
I don't know if I'm eating enough. I'm honestly thinking I don't. However, people have a way of underestimating their caloric intake. So I dunno. Furthermore, I'll be damned if what I see in the mirror is the same thing everybody else sees, because according to the Marines and shit, I might as well be fucking Ethiopian. I mean, you can see my rib-cage, but you could've seen it last year, too. I've just got a huge fucking rib-cage. I need to build up some muscle, but I hate the idea of eating more than I need to, because then I'll be right back to where I started. Not to mention that gaining ten or twenty pounds, only to have to cut five or ten of those pounds after I've built up a little muscle and a lot of fat really doesn't appeal to me. It's really hard on your body, not really too cool, aesthetically, and it's pretty dependent on having a lot of time to do it - I've got like seven months. Eight, maybe. I could gain like twenty-five or thirty pounds of muscle in that much time if my diet was fucking perfect and I was using the most effective supplements, but life isn't perfect. I'm probably looking at maybe twenty pounds of muscle if I get my shit together right fucking now. I'd still have to cut later on, because you can't gain a whole lot of muscle without gaining fat, but... fuckit. I don't know. I could use a nice coma right about now. Maybe I'll get myself shot doing something heroic. There's supposed to be an irritated emoticon here but LJ is a fucking bitch that I'm going to fucking destroy one of these days because it can't properly fucking display the fucking emoticons I feel I fucking need to properly convey my fucking message. Grr.
Oh, overtraining? What? What's that? I've never heard of this "overtraining," before. Are you smoking something? You can overtrain a muscle group? This was all sarcasm, by the way.
In an attempt to emulate Boot-Camp conditions with adequate nutrition, in order to bring about hypertrophy of my pectorals and deltoids - that'd be chest and shoulders, if you went through some head trauma recently and aren't back to full-steam when it comes to physiological terminology - I've been doing an ass-load of push-ups in addition to basic PT (which is also predominantly push-ups) and the usual resistance work-out. Guess what? That resistance work-out? Yeah, today, it was chest and triceps. Fuck. I'd say I've done several hundred push-ups today, at the very least - it's at a rate of twenty every fifteen minutes when I'm not training otherwise or sleeping or eating, as long as I'm home. So, I got done with the resistance work-out at around four, got something to eat, continued the masochistic little regimen until six, when I PT'd and ate again, then continued it to nine PM, when I ate the last meal of the day. So altogether, we're looking at twenty-eight times twenty, plus five sets of twenty normal push-ups along with five sets of clap-push-ups during PT. So close to seven-hundred push-ups. Around 685. Godfuckingdamnit. The worst part is that I want to keep doing them. It's not so much that it hurts now, because a set of twenty push-ups isn't very hard at all, but that my energy levels have officially jumped off of a cliff, and it's only going to be worse tomorrow, because I won't have gotten enough sleep.
Other than that, I think I'm going to start running again, or swimming, at the very least. The only bad part is that the muscle-mass I've got now is practically non-existent, and it's going to be hard to keep myself from running the hour-long sessions I used to. Twenty or thirty minutes, that's it. If you'd've told me six month ago that I'd be forcing myself to tone the exercise down, I'd've thought you were completely fucking insane.
I don't know if I'm eating enough. I'm honestly thinking I don't. However, people have a way of underestimating their caloric intake. So I dunno. Furthermore, I'll be damned if what I see in the mirror is the same thing everybody else sees, because according to the Marines and shit, I might as well be fucking Ethiopian. I mean, you can see my rib-cage, but you could've seen it last year, too. I've just got a huge fucking rib-cage. I need to build up some muscle, but I hate the idea of eating more than I need to, because then I'll be right back to where I started. Not to mention that gaining ten or twenty pounds, only to have to cut five or ten of those pounds after I've built up a little muscle and a lot of fat really doesn't appeal to me. It's really hard on your body, not really too cool, aesthetically, and it's pretty dependent on having a lot of time to do it - I've got like seven months. Eight, maybe. I could gain like twenty-five or thirty pounds of muscle in that much time if my diet was fucking perfect and I was using the most effective supplements, but life isn't perfect. I'm probably looking at maybe twenty pounds of muscle if I get my shit together right fucking now. I'd still have to cut later on, because you can't gain a whole lot of muscle without gaining fat, but... fuckit. I don't know. I could use a nice coma right about now. Maybe I'll get myself shot doing something heroic. There's supposed to be an irritated emoticon here but LJ is a fucking bitch that I'm going to fucking destroy one of these days because it can't properly fucking display the fucking emoticons I feel I fucking need to properly convey my fucking message. Grr.