Gratuitous Preen

The header image I’m using at the moment was taken a few years ago. You hear about how hard it is to build mass if you are “older,” which is a polite way of saying, oh, dunno, over fifty.

Backshot 2014

I am really liking this new kettlebell workout. Two years of being mostly off-road with this goddam leg injury have left me a little less “cut,” as the expression is, but I feel prepared to make a statement on behalf of sixty year old ladies everywhere. Eight months and counting.

Show this to the foreman.

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19 thoughts on “Gratuitous Preen

      • Exactly. He’s an IT dude – picking up a tower is the best he does all day. I’m heaving boxes around all day, and climbing tall-ass ladders with heavy and/or awkward boxes in hand. I do love it. I could never exercise for the sake of it like you do, but doing a job and feeling the benefit is wonderful.

  1. Ah ah ah ah ah. THIS one I really liked. You look very good and very fit btw.

    In any case kettlebell training could be bad for rotator cuffs (a problem for the over 65’s I am told) and the increasing grip strength is perhaps no good for hands that wish to play an instrument.

    I mean, Sled, you can do everything, being younger and not having stopped working out:

    boxing, wrestling, martial arts ad even soccer should you like it (which you probably don’t): endurance, speed, strength, nerve, you still have.

    Ashtanga Yoga was instead terriblefor me: got paralysed for 9 months (but I learned correct Ashatnga Yoga breathing which I do often and find useful).

    Thank you for keeping me up-to-date with American words & rapidly evolving habits: this ‘preen’ thing, the Russian kettlebell – a way to counterbalance a new cold war on the rise?
    Let us cross fingers.

    All the best

    Giovanni

    • Actually, the rotators don’t take that much of a beating — it depends on the movement of course. But because the weights are actually lighter than the dumbbells that can be lifted by the same person, tendonstress is minimum.

      I’ve already broken my heart over what my occupation has done to my ability to finger a guitar or piano. Kind of the dark reverse side of my comment to Spiders above. If I could make a living without working when I’m tired or for too many days in the calendar, I’d still be composing wistful folk-guitar settings or lieder to the poetry of Donne. But I let myself get busy, and then found my fingers had lost their fluency, and then I got sad about it and the melodies don’t come knocking.

      I don’t know what the hell we can do about Russia with a kettlebell except for somebody takes a middle sized one and knocks Putin on the head.

  2. You are a medicine or a magic healer (and witch). I laughed out loud again. That Putin … although one has to consider that the Russians now love him, because they are very patriotic, like the French, the Polish (or the Americans) 😉

    • I know. It baffles me. And patriotism is relative. I feel both a deep affection and a deep disappointment where my country is concerned. But I hate it when people bash “Americans” as if we were all the same like eggs in a carton. And the French… some French thought it was patriotism to support Marechal Petain and other French patriots took to the maquis to snipe at his German backers. It’s like religion, this that and the other religious person is ready to fight for his idea of God, and if you asked each one to describe God you would never get the same answer twice.

      I think people look to a strong man when they feel adrift and vulnerable. But I bet gay Russians don’t love Putin very much.

  3. “Nothing like what you have to do for a living to condition your muscles.”

    You mean like eating tapas and drinking wine? 😉

    You are an inspiration and look totally “cut”. My back sports the michelin man look.

    • That’s about what I always say to mine! I work like crazy and I expect performance in return!

      BTW it happened again that I tried to comment on your latest post — I liked the poem and the title of your collection especially charmed me — and when I clicked to publish the comment nothing happened. Blogger’s platform drives me a little crazy.

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