It wasn't that bad

Chris "Isorez" Rezny

Pierini Fitness is blessed to have Mr. Chris “Isorez” Rezny as today’s guest blogger. He’s a 50-year young middle-aged man cyberspace friend of the chief executive blogger.   

Chris resides in the Chicago area with his wife and two sons and pays the family bills working in corporate America as a sales manager.  To keep his middle-aged man body fit, Chris exercises using an eclectic approach including barbell weightlifting, calisthenics, "Isorez” isometrics and yes middle-aged man walking at a brisk pace.

His middle-aged man reflection today as a guest blogger shares his thoughts and feelings last year about this time.  Grab a chair, sit back, relax and enjoy what Chris has to share.

Last year about this time, I spent time reflecting that I would soon enter a new decade of life.  Then one day, I decided to take the rambling thoughts swarming in my mind about turning age 50 and capture them with written words for my down-the-road archival benefit.  

What follows is what I composed that day:

It’s coming . . .

As much as I have tried to convince myself it’s not true, I will be turning 50 this year.

So that means I’m still officially not 50 as I write this out but yes it lurks ominously around the corner.  But since I’m going to live to be over 100, I guess, I’m not really middle-aged yet?  Cool!

Reality check – yes I’m middle-aged and have probably fit that age bracket for the past few years.  I try to fool myself, like when I take a survey and check the box for 40-49 for my age and then privately crack a sly smile while patting myself on my back and thinking “Hot Dog!” at least I didn’t have to check the 50-59 age selection.

I don’t’ think there’s anything I’ll fear about turning the "BIG 5-0" but it still yanks on my brain and pulls on my heart.  Maybe I’ll creak more or walk a bit more bent over and memories might fade.

Man, I’ll officially be old. Me?  Nope, this can’t be!

Right now I’m struggling with different physical aspects.  One of them is that I have two high school athletes living under my roof that I lovingly refer to as my sons.  They’re both bigger than me!

The oldest one can put me over his head and bound up and down the stairs with me over his shoulders.  It’s a bit humiliating . . . but enjoyable all the same.

I’ve gotten used to being called “mister” and “sir” a long time ago just through youth coaching of baseball and football.  But now it happens in a store!

I’ve been asked if I need help “loading that” and this ticked me off; I kindly refused the assistance.  Then I remember when I was that young and probably would’ve asked the same question to an older man like me.

I do my best to keep in shape and structure workouts of resistance and cardio benefits at least four times a week if not more.  One of my favorites is when I focus on a good long walk at a brisk pace.

Six years ago I would never had thought that walking was a workout and at times my sons are ruthless in their side glance when I tell them what I did.  But the bottom line is I feel good and I don’t have pain afterwards. 

My one benefit is that I really don’t think I look “almost 50” and maybe I do look like a 16-year old kid when looking in my bathroom mirror like I know one person says he does.    I have the benefits of a smoother complexion thanks to my mother. 

Hey, I can pass for 48.  But do I look 50?  Heck no!  Do I turn heads?  Nope; I’m just being honest here.

However, this year’s "Turkey Bowl" football game with friends, and many more of my sons’ friends and their college age brothers, proved to be another telling point for me.  While I didn’t embarrass myself with four receptions and one touchdown pass thrown by “moi”, my knee hurt for three weeks afterwards from running and falling on the frozen ground. 

Yes sir – three weeks!  That there folks is called a “measuring stick”.  

I take a slight bit of pride that the amount of grown-ups dwindled as the game went on.  I hung in there with the kids but paid the price because my knee lingered in pain for three weeks afterwards before I could do a workout with lunges. That's enough of a tell-tale sign that my internal  honesty detector has been tripped.

I need to embrace it, look forward to it and find a high hill from which to shout.    

Hey I’m going to be 50!  Alright, did I just say that?  

Gee-whiz; what an embarrassing moment this is for an older guy.  Maybe I’ll just whisper it for now. Better yet, I’ll just keep it to myself for a while longer.

Almost a year has passed from when I composed the above.  I turned age 50 and embraced a new decade of life.   So I guess a postscript to what I composed a while ago is in order.

What can I now say about turning 50? 

I know!  It wasn't that bad. 

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum

Staring at a blank sheet of paper

I was on a creative roll last month and composed three consecutive Sundays of cyber-published middle-aged man written reflections here at Pierini Fitness.  

Last evening, I sat down with my very best plans to compose another masterpiece and make in four in a row.

I wasn’t sure what I would create and seldom do I know when writing a new composition.   Thoughts just enter my mind and strings of words are seamlessly chosen at a lightning-fast pace, thanks to skills acquired over 40 years ago in a high school typing class. 

For the most part, the written reflections I compose are quickly done.   I’ve written, edited and posted some of my best stuff in 15 minutes or less.

But last evening that wasn’t the case.  I started with one composition and put a good 10 to 15 minutes into it before deciding that it was a bunch of nonsense; so I abandoned that effort and sat in mental silence about the nothing I had to show for my efforts.

After a few minutes, another idea came into my head so I went to work with what I thought would be a clever and great middle-aged man written reflection.  About five minutes later, I found myself feeling the same as I did earlier; not satisfied with what I was creating, considering it more garbage and then making another “business decision” to throw it overboard.  There I was again with nothing to show for my efforts.

That’s the way it is for those who are creative or strive to be.  We all get our turn visiting the dark side of creative dryness.  What I’ve learned when it’s my turn to experience it – after going through a pout session and maybe some despair – is how stars shine the brightest in the darkness of the night.

Yup, I realized that again last night when looking at my computer monitor and staring at a blank sheet of paper.

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum

Long-winded people I’ve ever met

I’ve been accused of being too wordy in my written compositions, such as letters and e-mail correspondence, and I'll accept this as valid criticism.  

It must stem from my desire to be complete and not misunderstood which would be an occupational hazard in my profession.

If my wordiness has its origin in the work I do, it’s because I use written communication to advocate a client’s point of view.  Sometimes it may be a controversy or dispute so I must make sure the message I communicate on their behalf is loaded with convincing lines of reasoning and fully supported by authority and evidence.  It sometimes takes lots of words to do this successfully.

In any event, you can call me “Mr. Wordy” knowing you’re not the first to do so and you won’t hurt my feelings.

And I suppose the same could be true with my spoken words but that depends on what the conversation is and to whom I’m discussing something with.  While I take pride in being a good listener, it’s only natural that I’d like my turn of “having the mic” in an extended and healthy conversation.

Sometimes getting an equal share of talking time is no problem like when the person I’m talking to and I both yield to each other at natural breaking points so that our conversation sounds like a symphony performing a classical music masterpiece.  Other times, however, with a different person, our conversation music isn’t so smooth particularly when one of us “hogs the mic” in what ends up being a one-sided conversation.

“What is the sound of one hand clapping?” I may ask myself when getting the short end of equal time in a one-sided conversation being dominated by the other person and not me.

These long-winded and oftentimes full-of-hot-air “mic hogs” know who they are and you can usually spot them from a distance.  They are also of the same stock of those who are “selfie-prone” with their smartphone cameras and take great delight in uploading another selfie of themselves on Facebook to display right next to the hundreds of other selfies previously uploaded for their Facebook friends.

These folks speak their own language called “Me, me, and me!”

Another characteristic of these people is a common preface they frequently utter after blowing their hot air for what seems like eternity.  They typically do this when realizing what they’ve done and wanting to save face with their exhausted listener.  

And what is their prefatory statement? 

Those who say “To make a long story short . . .” are some of the most long-winded people I’ve ever met.

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum

Like a really empty bottle of ketchup

Several years ago I had a conversation with the CEO of an association representing the food processing industry and the subject of waste came up.  He shared how despite our best efforts to use all of some food products, some gets unused and thrown away.  He gave an example of a bottle of ketchup to make his point. 

I could relate to what he was sharing and actually agreed with him while recalling many instances in my ketchup-using past where the bottle was almost empty but not quite.  There was still some ketchup lining the bottom and sides of the bottle and despite my best efforts to get that last drop of ketchup – turning the bottle upside down, squeezing it for dear life, pounding it on the kitchen table and so forth – I eventually abandoned my efforts in frustration, considered the bottle empty and then tossed it in the kitchen trash container.

I made a “business decision” that I had used enough and for all practical purposes the bottle was empty and I had used it all to the very last drop.  But in reality, there was more ketchup in the bottle and by tossing the bottle in the trash container; I lost my opportunity to “use it all”.

In a middle-aged man reflective moment, I started to think about that bottle of ketchup in relation to my daily efforts to be the best I can to all those who are part of my life – my family, friends and clients.

Certainly I begin each day with the best of intentions to pour my heart, mind and soul into everything I do.  Freshly awakened after a good night’s sleep, I’m like a newly-opened bottle of ketchup; my efforts to do well and be good flow so easily.  But as the day goes on, like that almost-empty bottle of ketchup, my reservoir of abilities, energy and good intentions start to empty and it takes a little more squeezing, pounding and shaking to get another drop of good out of me.

And just like that almost-empty bottle of ketchup, at some point, even though I have more left, I make a “business decision” that enough is enough and that I’ve given all that I can for the day.  At that moment, I’m like both the person trying to get the last drop of ketchup out of an almost-empty bottle and the almost-empty ketchup bottle – frustrated and depleted.    

At the end of a challenging day when I finally get an opportunity to call it quits until tomorrow, and lay my head on the comfortable pillow in my bed, ready for hours of restful sleep and rejuvenation, I hope my final thought before checking out when Mr. Sandman arrives, is that I used all my God-given talents this day with no wasted effort just like a really empty bottle of ketchup.

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum

One day you and I will both go

Photo taken during
2007 trip to Italy.

So here I am this early Sunday morning looking out my family room window seeing dense winter fog and a sky above so gloomy and gray.  I remind myself how I’m within striking distance of a new decade of life. 

Those who know me know of my analytical and number-calculating mindset so to honor my legend I do some quick math and discover this Sunday morning I’m 59 years and 89 cents.  This realization of being on the older side of middle-aged manhood makes me ponder about the life I’ve lived thus far and more specifically the current decade of my life that will soon be ending.    

I think about my faith, the sacraments I’ve received and the prayers I’ve prayed for the special intentions of so many family, friends and clients. 

I think about family, friends and clients who have departed me from planet earth and how blessed I was to have them part of my life.  I’m grateful for those who are still here and contribute to my sense of who I am and who I want to be.

I think about the fitness I’ve gained and lost in my see-saw training journey; the weights lifted, miles run, kettlebell repetitions completed, and burpees done to exhaustion.

I think about the money I’ve made, spent, donated and invested wondering about how healthy is my relationship with the financial resources with which I’ve been blessed.

And finally, I think about the good health I’ve been blessed with thus far knowing that it could be taken away from me in a moment with no advance notice.

Coming out of a reflective gaze to my present whereabouts, I stare at my computer and read an internet news article about a recent research study finding that people having an optimistic approach in all walks of life are likely to have more healthy hearts.  This article notes that optimism doesn’t just lead to a better outlook on life, but possibly an improved one as well since this study reveals it can lead to a healthier heart.

Well a healthier heart is just one of many variables that will contribute to how much time I have remaining on planet earth.

I’m optimistic about the rest of my life and a new decade of it that hopefully I’ll experience.  There will be challenges along the way but I believe the blessings of good faith, family, fitness, fortune and health will far outweigh these challenges.  If I’m willing to do the hard work and I pray that I will and not be lethargic in my pursuits.

Going back into my reflective inner-self, I recall something I wrote late last year when in a doodling reflective mode about the rest of my life.  It reads as follows: 

"Follow your passions, surrender your fears, rid your angers and be not afraid to shed tears.  Learn to have compassion because it never goes out of fashion.  Live a long life and know, one day you and I will both go."

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum

Will continue to happen

Pierini Fitness is blessed to have Mr. Jim Fritzsche as today’s guest middle-aged man blogger. Jim is a 58-year young middle-aged man friend of the chief executive blogger.  

He's a self-employed CPA in the real world who keeps fit in the gym 2-3 times per week lifting weights along with outdoors cycling on his road bike for 40 plus miles per week (weather permitting). He served as guest blogger here at Pierini Fitness five years ago today and was recently invited back to give another of his middle-aged man home run perspectives.  Enjoy today's read. 

I have two young friends, ages 27 and 20, who live in my neighborhood and are die-hard San Francisco Giants baseball fans.  Back in early July of this year both were very demonstrably “giving up” on the Giants baseball season.  They said (more or less), “The Giants stink!!  They’re not going anywhere!” All while throwing their hands up in the air in frustration and hanging their heads.

I calmly tried to get them to remember that the Giants were only a handful of games out of first place. That the team had many fine players, a great manager and was staying reasonably healthy.  These arguments did not persuade them.  They even refused to watch any more Giants games on television – it was simply too painful.

So what happened?  On the last day of the season the Giants snuck into the playoffs as a wild card team, and then promptly ran the table and were crowned world champions in late October.  Who would have thunk it?!

One of the great benefits of being a middle-aged dude is that my capacity to enjoy some patience has increased over the years.   Don’t get me wrong, it is still a daily battle.  And I still have my moments of annoyance, irritation and touchiness.  But . . . I’m a whole lot more patient than when I was the age of my young friends.

And isn’t that a blessing?!

A year ago in December 2013 I had the good fortune to go on retreat at a local retreat center. We were meditating on the season of Advent – the few weeks that precede Christmas.  The presenter was telling us how Advent is a time of preparation, of patience, of waiting for the goodness of Christ to come into the world.

And then he said - that patiently waiting for good things to happen is a great way to go through life.  That sounded right to me, so I made it a point to try and live that way the next twelve months.  And what happened?  It’s all good!  My life has grown and blossomed in so many ways this year: I have enjoyed a marked increase in my business; my personal life is rebounding after a major family challenge; I'm composing more and better piano pieces than ever before….and the Giants won the World Series.

I have enjoyed all of this and more, just by exercising a little patience.

Now again it is the season of Advent, and I have been on retreat, and am renewing my commitment to live the next year patiently waiting for good things to happen.  And they are happening.  And, I pray, will continue to happen.

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum

If you enjoyed Jim's guest middle-aged man blogflection today, click this link to read one Jim wrote five years ago today. 
We will all do it together

Merry Christmas 2014 from Pierini Fitness in the language of my ancestors.

While standing tall

So now I'm within three months of age 60 and a new decade in my life - if I make it!  Wise enough, though, to know that I can be here today and gone tomorrow.

But as of right now, the plan is to be here today and tomorrow so I'm training with that in mind.

Sitting for a living and glued to my computer keyboard while working, aging and other forces known and unknown to me, within my control for the most part, make me on some days wake up feeling like an old rodeo cowboy who has been thrown from a bucking bronco one time too many.

In other words, middle-aged man stiffness is now a force to be reckoned with by me on some days - not all but some.

So I have two choices:  I can sit back and let it happen; looking like a vulture sitting high on a power line hunched forward looking for road kill below, or I can do something about it.  I've chosen the latter over the former.

There are several things I do to keep my body feeling supple and one I'm sharing with you today.  It's a spinal alignment and shoulder flexibility drill I discovered made my spine and shoulders feel good one day when I felt like that old rodeo cowboy mentioned above.  It felt so good after doing it that I decided to make a short video demonstrating it.

Here it is:

Take it for a test drive and if you like it, I suggest a regular dose of it Monday through Friday before your gym workouts and when taking a break at the office if you're one of those poor souls like me who sits for a living.

It'll keep us standing tall and upright and keep our shoulders and entire posterior chain feeling great.

It'll keep us - for the remainder of our middle-aged man journey of life - marching forward while standing tall.  

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum

With less than 4 months to go!

Here are a couple short videos of some recent workouts.

This one is an early morning "short on time workout" consisting only of a single set of pullups and bar dips and then a tough cardio closer of Tabata burpees:

The next one is me doing a "beat the clock" kettlebell workout.  The complex is called the Power 5 single kettlebell complex and I learned of it on YouTube channel of Rdella Training where there's lots of good stuff to view and learn from.

I'm relatively new to kettlebell training and have much work to do improving my form.  I'm using a 20 kg Ader kettlebell that I recently purchased.

I'm training for age 60 with less than 4 months to go!

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum

Happy Birthday Soke Kubota!

Soke Takayuki Kubota

Eighty years ago today, a karate legend was born in Kumamoto, Japan.  

Takayuki Kubota was born on September 20, 1934 and began his martial arts training at age 4 under the direction of his father.  It was the beginning of his long and rigorous training journey that continues to this day.

A young Takayuki Kubota demonstrating his tamawashi prowess to an audience of American professional wrestlers in Japan circa 1961.

He first came to America in 1964 to give a demonstration of his martial arts prowess at Ed Parker’s First Annual International Karate Tournament in Long Beach, California.  Soon thereafter, he permanently relocated his International Karate Association (IKA) to Los Angeles and taught self-defense techniques to the Los Angeles Police Department for several years.  He created his own style of karate naming it Gosoku-ryu (“hard-fast style”) and also created a self-defense tool popularly known as the kubotan.

Black Belt magazine September 1965 cover shows a young
Takayuki Kubota  shattering a 100-lb. ice block with shuto-uke.

I had the pleasure as a teenager to be a member of and train with the Sacramento Chapter of his IKA with Sensei Ron McCausland, an early disciple of Takayuki Kubota.  I remember him when he was in his late 30’s and the look on his face as he carefully watched my performance during rank testing in the early 1970’s.  After testing, he would briefly lead us through a post-test workout session.  I watched in amazement as he moved like a cat on a hot tin roof when demonstrating technique.  There was something different about his karate techniques and movements than what I had seen before. 

During this period, I knew him as “Shihan” which is a Japanese martial arts title for expert or senior instructor.  Later in my training journey, he became known as “Soke” which, among its several meanings, describes a singular leader of a martial art style such as his Gosoku-ryu.

Soke Takayuki Kubota acted the role of a karate master with
Charles Bronson in the movie "The Mechanic" circa 1972.

My training took a long sabbatical when I joined the Army after high school, went to college and began my career but almost twenty years later, I resumed my training under his disciple Sensei Kenny Kuch who taught IKA-style karate classes where I then lived. 

After dusting off my rust and playing some serious catch-up, I had the opportunity to personally test and receive my shodan and nidan belt rankings from Soke Kubota in his Gosoku-ryu karate.  I actually tore my ACL while training at his headquarters dojo that required reconstructive surgery and, after some diligent rehabilitation, jumped back on the saddle and continued with my training.

While I am now a retired martial artist, I have very fond memories of the Gosoku-ryu chapters of my life and am grateful to Soke Takayuki Kubota for the opportunity to be part of his International Karate Association.

So today – as he enters a new decade of his life as a newly-crowned octogenarian - I extend my very best prayers and thoughts that he is enjoying good faith, family, fitness, fortune and health and that a wonderful rest of his life awaits him.  

Happy Birthday Soke Kubota!

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum

And fifty cents

One week ago today, I was six months shy of my 60^th birthday – the day I became 59 years and 50 cents.  Most people wouldn’t blink an eye about this but this middle-aged man did.  

There’s something about a decade rite of passage that catches my attention in the fitness, health and wellness arena.

I remember ten years ago when I within striking distance of turning age 50.  I was pretty fit at this point in my life or so I thought and sought to validate this with an objective test.  So I chose to self-administer the U.S. Marine Physical Fitness Test on my 50^th birthday.  My goal was to score 250 points; a perfect score is 300 points. 

I began the 2005 New Year by training for about six weeks for this test which consisted of pull-ups, Marine abdominal crunches and a timed three-mile run.  To get a perfect score of 300 points, I needed to complete 20 pullups, 100 Marine abdominal crunches and run the three-mile distance in 18 minutes flat.

I took the test on the eve of my 50^th birthday – can’t remember why a day early – and completed 17 pullups (85 points), 73 Marine abdominal crunches (73 points), and ran the three-mile distance in 21:30 (79 points) for a total of 237 points.  I missed my 250 point goal by 13 points but was still proud of my effort.  Then I went back to my normal way of training.

The following year, again I began training about six weeks before my birthday and took the test one day after my 51^st birthday.  This time I completed 16 pullups (80 points), 73 Marine abdominal crunches (73 points), and ran the three-mile distance in 20:16 (86 points) for a total of 239 points.  Two points better was nice but I still failed to achieve the 250 point goal of my 50^th birthday.  Again, then I went back to my normal way of training.

Third time efforts are sometimes the charm and this was my case when I took the test one year later for a third time on my 52^nd birthday.  This time I completed 18 pullups (90 points), 77 Marine abdominal crunches (77 points) and ran the three-mile distance in 19:32 (90 points) for a total of 257 points.  I finally got my 250 points that I wanted for my 50^th birthday two years earlier.

That was the last time I took the test.

In an act of full disclosure, I must share that all three-mile runs need an asterisk next to the times as they were done on the treadmill at one percent incline which I’ve been told approximates road running.    I’ll take the asterisk with no resistance given.

So fast forward to the present, here I am within six months of striking distance of a new decade in my middle-aged man life.  Honestly, I’m not as fit as I was ten years ago for whatever reason, one of which is that I haven’t trained with the intensity that I did then.

How fit does a middle-aged man need to be?   When compared to my peers, quite frankly it doesn’t take much to excel and be in the 90 percentile plus of my 59-year-old brethren.  When compared to what’s needed to live a good and honest life, I have all the fitness needed and honestly could get by with even less than what I have.

But why should I compare my present fitness to the lowest common denominator? 

While I don’t have to aspire to be the best in the whole-wide world, because all that will really do is give me a big head and bragging rights, there’s nothing wrong with setting my bar a little higher than where it has been lately and maybe that’s what I’ll do.  Set a goal, train hard for it for the next six months and then test to see where I’m at and how I do.  And in the process, I’ll take my fitness to a higher level and maybe within striking distance of where I was ten years ago.

So here I am today pondering what that fitness training and 60^th birthday test will be, one week after turning 59 years and 50 cents.

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum