RSS FEED IDEMS: PEACE LOVE LUNGES
- WHAT CAUSES WORKOUT YAWNS?
For some reason during the last six weeks, I'm always yawning in the middle of my weight workouts at least 3 or 4 times an hour. It happens whether I do my workout in the morning, during my lunch break, or in the evening. In the morning, I always have some men's vitamins and a protein smoothie an hour before my workout for energy, but it's still a problem. Later in the day, I always try to have a protein smoothie an hour before I get to the gym. I'm getting more rest as I've changed my sleep patterns and I've never had this problem before. Do I need something for an extra boost because I'm (gasp!) getting older? Do I need something to recharge my system? I don't seem to have this problem on my cardio days. —Rod, Las Vegas, NV
You actually answered your own question, in the last sentence of your e-mail. Resistance training is largely anaerobic (lacking oxygen) while cardiovascular training is aerobic (in the presence of oxygen). There are many theories out there about why people yawn during a weight workout. One of these theories is that your body needs more oxygen due to the nature of the anaerobic weight exercise. Yawning is your body's very effective way of getting oxygen back into your system.
The other theory about yawning during workouts comes down to air circulation in gyms, but based upon your question, I doubt that this is the issue behind your yawning. Since it happens morning, noon or night, (but not during your cardio sessions) my guess is that you are probably working out harder than normal during your weight training time and your body is responding in kind by wanting more oxygen intake.
In terms of supplementation, there are many energy supplements out there, but many of these work by jolting your system with large doses of caffeine which will leave you even more burned out and dependent later on. Remember the physics rule: every action has an equal and opposite reaction. If you want a natural energy boost, try drinking green tea in advance of your time in the gym. Green tea contains L-theanine, an amino acid that not only gives the tea its unique flavor, but also promotes relaxation and modifies the stimulating effects of the caffeine in green tea. If you're looking for this same effect in pill form, you might want to try Going, Going, Gone. I like it because it's 100 percent natural & organic, contains green tea extract, chromium, and other antioxidants with no harmful chemicals (or ephedrine-based plant sterols).
Thu, 25 Oct 2007 11:31:31 -0700
- MY SLACK-ASS SPORTS HISTORY
SOMETIMES I THINK IT'S HILARIOUS that I ended up working as a trainer, because if you'd known me during my youth, I was a real chubster, forced to buy size "Husky" pants for school. Even my little brother nicknamed me: "chubby in the butt" (thanks, Alex).
Despite my "husk," I made a valiant attempt at sports. I thought I'd share them with you so you know I'm not just putting you on about "my fitness journey" blah blah blah.
Grade 2 — Little League. I was seven, and all the boys in class were doing it, so of course I thought I should too. Mom took me to Gart Brothers sporting goods store (where years later, at age 13, I shoplifted a Speedo), and I picked out my bat—a Louisville Slugger. Truth be told, the uniform was really the only reason I wanted to play. I never did—never went to a practice, never went to a game — I just liked having the catcher's mitt and Louisville Slugger. Which led to...
Grade 3 — Soccer. This time, I actually went to practice. I had the cool uniform—those onionskin, slippery soccer shorts, the cleats—you know, the whole nine yards. My big complaint with this sport (and all sports) is the coaches never teach you how to actually play the game. I need BASICS, like: "Okay everybody. You're wearing RED and they're wearing BLACK. Now, your job is to annihilate anyone wearing black." THAT I understand. But instead they made us little third graders do drills. To confuse matters, they called the drills dribbling—(isn't that a basketball term?). Truth be told again: I never excelled at soccer and my participation was probably driven more by my stepdad's desire to see me do anything that would remotely make me like the average Utah boy and not so obviously queer. Which leads me to...
Grade 5, 6, and 7 — Basketball. Prompted again by my step dad, once again I attended practice, ran ladders, did "drills" and tried to dribble. But again, the coaches never taught us the basic rules of the game. I guess they figured that these little red blooded Utah boys had nothing better to do than watch basketball on TV, (which is true if you're straight and into your Boy Scout activities, but not so true if you're queer and more into the scouts).
Grades 8, 9, 10, 11 — High School P.E. The most dreadful four years of my sports career, during which our "coaches" did absolutely nothing identifiably helpful, except pick out the cutest, hottest boys to separate the rest of us onto two "teams." The next 37 minutes were spent attempting to play a game without any rules, instructions, or basic guidelines. Invariably it had to be something complex, like lacrosse.
Then there was running that damn mile. I absolutely dreaded it from the moment the semester started to the last day of finals. Twice a year, we were required to run one mile (five times around the football field). Imagine a fat, awkward little Sam trying to get around the field, lagging behind even the slowest girls in the class? It was hell.
Then, an epiphany.
During the end of grade 11, while eating my "between-class chocolate chip cookie" and guzzling Coke on a break in the newspaper room, I stumbled upon the Air Force Academy's Prospectus for Prospective Cadets. All of these big, hot, muscular cadets — like brothers, running in unity and masculine camaraderie. I was rapt. About the same time (and about six years too late) while channel surfing old movies on cable, stumbled upon "Top Gun." Tom Cruise and Val Kilmer had me at "Playing with the Boys," (a.k.a., the Volleyball Scene).
In these small moments, in the quiet of my psyche, something shifted. Imperceptible at first, it grew to a dull roar inside me, and I had no choice but to take action. As my mother taught us:
"I must do the most productive thing
at every given moment."
So, like Forrest Gump, I started to run. Every day, during the hot Utah summer, I ran at least two miles, sometimes five. I didn't take a day off—not one— for three months. I lost about 30 pounds that summer, and returned to high school for registration day. None of my friends recognized me. I was a completely new young man.
I was no longer a slack ass.
I began grade 12, my senior year, with a newfound confidence in my physical abilities to transform and affect a change. I registered for Weightlifting 101 and took Tai Chi. I set my sights on qualifying for the Air Force Academy and began to develop my upper body strength. I even joined the track team, and earned a 5:36 minute mile during a meet in the spring of my senior year. Despite all this, I didn't make it into the Air Force Academy. A screw up at the Department of Defense Medical Examination Review Board (DODMERB) led me to take cover in Gonzaga University, my "safety school" where I ended up in the fall of 1996.
Bill Clinton had just been elected president, and I was a freshly shaved 'n' shorn member of the Gonzaga men's freshman crew team. We'd get up at the ungodly hour of 4AM to brave the bone chilling air of eastern Washington state, wait for 30 minutes outside the AD building for a rickety old school bus, which would shuttle us to our boathouse (below) next to the Spokane river.
It was fucking cold. I could see my breath with every stroke of the oar. I could barely feel my toes as the frost and ice cold water soaked into my socks. My hands were raw with bloody peeled-back blisters from handling the oar, stroke after stroke, hour upon hour, morning after morning.
Then there was the payoff—simple, really: watching the mist rise up off the water at sunrise as it disappeared into the skyline. All the while, that haunting Gregorian remix of Enigma's Sade played faintly in the boathouse as we rowed back down the river.
Catching a glimpse at myself that morning, in the mirrored surface of the water—triceps flexing, skin covered in sweat, I realized: I'd become an athlete.
Wed, 24 Oct 2007 14:35:04 -0700
- CONGRATULATIONS, JACQ & BRAD
Bronson and I attended one of the most inspiring and perfect weddings ever this past weekend. Two of my clients, Brad and Jacqueline, were married at the Inn of the Seventh Ray in Malibu, a little, special, retreat in the middle of L.A.'s Topanga Canyon. It felt almost like a Buddhist monastery in a treehouse.
My heart always leaps when I hear a couple take their vows. I remember the intensity and sincerity of those words, the passion and excitement, pressing up against the great unknown.
I think the thing I'll always remember about the wedding was how present and fully themselves Jacq and Brad were. They didn't suppress tears (or laughter). Nothing was forced. There was an air of grace, simplicity, and dignity. It was, in a word, sublime.
About the photo: I only wish we'd gotten a shot with Bronson and Brad in the frame, too. So, for the purposes of this post: blondes rule!
We wish you a hundred years of happiness.
Love,
Sam, Bronson, Churchill and Max
Tue, 23 Oct 2007 17:33:18 -0700
- MATERNITY FITNESS MIXER: NOV. 10
If you're a woman (or know one) who's thinking of becoming pregnant, currently pregnant, or was pregnant, then staying fit is probably top of mind. Moderate exercise throughout pregnancy provides babies with more oxygen, shortens labor time, reduces the chance for C-section and postpartum depression, and promotes a faster return to pre-pregnancy weight and muscle tone.
Sam Page Fitness trainer and maternity expert Ilona Brown is bringing her expertise to a special 90 minute workshop held in Hollywood at a private home, Saturday, November 10 from 11am-12:30pm. Some of the topics Ilona will cover:
Top five myths surrounding pregnancy and exercise
Ten vital health benefits of exercising while pregnant
How to most effectively minimize post pregnancy pooch
How exercising while pregnant can benefit your baby
Top ten workout guidelines you MUST know
Which exercises to avoid entirely and why
If you're interested in attending, please email Ilona & myself or call Ilona at 310-592-1996 to ensure your spot. Space is limited to the first 10 people.
Tue, 23 Oct 2007 17:14:52 -0700
- DO WHAT YOU HATE FIRST
When I used to make cold calls selling magazine advertising, my strategy was: "Make the hardest call first." Getting the most difficult or unpleasant call out of the way first made the rest of the day seem like a breeze.
A similar principle can be used in the gym: "Do what you hate first." Whether it's abs, pull-ups, lunges, squats — by getting this out of the way, you build your confidence through the rest of your workout.
One of my clients shared a corollary to this point with me: "If it takes less than 10 minutes, just do it."
I admit, I tend to procrastinate annoying little tasks. Just looking around the room right now, I can see the following things that need to be done:
Clean up the broken glass from the Madonna art that the dogs knocked over this morning.
Take out the trash.
Write thank you notes to Dawn and Jonathan.
I'll take the trash out first.
Mon, 22 Oct 2007 11:39:13 -0700
- LUCKY, COWBOY
Two years ago tonight, Bronson and I had our first date.
As a male couple, it's hard to know when to celebrate your anniversary. Is it the day you first met? The day you married? We're lucky enough to have two anniversaries to celebrate, today, and April 21, the day of our commitment ceremony.
This one is significant because it was the night that our incredible journey together really began.
Happy two years, Cowboy.
Sun, 21 Oct 2007 10:19:41 -0700
- WHAT’S YOUR FAVE WORKOUT ALBUM?
What’s your favorite workout album? Yeah, the absolutely best, most inspired, most motivating, music you just love to exercise to?
Announcing the first Peace, Love, Lunges contest. Leave your comment below along with your favorite workout album (and tell me why), along with your name and email address or website. The grand prize winner of the contest will receive a brand spanking new TiVo DVR with 40 hours of recording time. First and second runner ups will win the new, uber-cool, soon to be unveiled, Peace, Love, Lunges shirt.
Two rules: You can’t just name one song, it needs to be your favorite workout album. And you have to tell me why this album is the best music to exercise to. Entries will be judged by Bronson and myself. Winners will be announced in a future blog post.
I’ll go first. My favorite album to work out to is Madonna’s Ray of Light. Quite simply, an upbeat electronic masterpiece. I know: gay, gay, gay. But with hits like, Ray of Light, Frozen, Substitute for Love, and Skin, I think every track’s a gem.
Don’t worry, I promise not to declare myself the winner.
Add your entry below.
Sat, 20 Oct 2007 10:00:46 -0700
- DUDE, THAT IS SO BROKEBACK
I don’t know why, but somehow I ended up on Urban Dictionary this morning while checking my e-mail. (In case you don’t know, Urban Dictionary is where all those words you’ve heard out in the world that you have no idea what they mean—usually slang—are defined, then rated by users).
For instance, brokeback, a new adjective meaning "anything of questionable masculinity." Or infoporn, "information that serves no purpose yet takes up valuable space in your head."
Just for the hell of it, I thought, let's see if they define bronson, And they do. Who knew bronson is a synoymn for beer, (e.g., let's go pound some bronsons). Which led me to sam, which means "super at masturbation" or "sexy attractive male" in urban slang. Of course, paul is defined as "a common given name for males, derived from the Roman surname Paulus (Latin: "small" or "humble"). Put simply, it is the greatest name to grace the Earth. Seriously. It is the best name in existance. [sic]"
With 499 votes, the definition of paul may be, but whoever submitted that explication still can't spell.
As for me, I'll take "super at masturbation" and "sexy attractive male" — it could be worse, right?
urbandictionary.com
Sat, 20 Oct 2007 07:48:00 -0700
- WELCOME TO THE BLOGOSPHERE, PAUL
Before there were blogs, there was the Horneblower, the hilarious weekly e-mail by my friend Paul Horne in which he chronicled his episodic, “Candid Camera” quality of life.
Well, after years of margarita-induced persuasion from Bronson, Paul’s mom Daphne, me and countless friends, Paul’s finally resurrected the Horneblower, this time as a blog.
It’s been a 10-year hiatus, so head on over to TheHorneblower.com and let him know you’re listening. Then come back to this site and comment on how much you loved it. Just kidding. Sorta.
Welcome to the party, Paul! It’s more fun now that you’re here.
Fri, 19 Oct 2007 15:26:47 -0700
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