#mcm 24 November 2014

#mcm

Today goes out to...

 

Me

Nobody pulls off a Christmas sweater vest like me.

With good health and strong hamstrings,

Mike  

Smile and that hipster girl on the bus smiles uncomfortably with you

Time to puke some positivity on your ass.

  Life is hard, man.  Every day you have to get up and put pants, which is just the worst.  Make breakfast, get to school, go to work, call the doctor, workout, do your laundry, clean the house, wash the dishes, call your loved ones, write a blog post.  There seems to be a never ending to do list of shit! 

  It's all too easy for us to be buried in the monotony of day to day life.  We get caught up in what we have to do to live and forget what we do to feel alive.  And this is completely bass-ackwards.  

  I am incredibly fortunate to be working and studying in a field I am passionate about.  I love fitness.  Maybe you've seen my blog?  And I get to wake up every day and study and learn and work with something that I am passionate about.  And some days even that gets tiring!

  So how do we keep fire, passion and drive alive in our everyday lives?  I'm going to tell you "Mike's Super Secret Super Easy Ways to Not be a Total Sad Sally"

Step One:  Attitude

  

  As someone who has struggled with depression in the past this was the hardest idea for me to understand.  It is also the most important.  Happiness is a choice.  Once you decide that you want to be happy you will be happier.  And once you know that, it is incredibly empowering.  If you are able to take in the day to day challenges life has to offer all of us and greet them with a smile instead of a frown there is nothing stopping you from being happy.

  This is obviously more difficult than it sounds.  Especially after your teachers piles on a ton of work, you're out of groceries, and that girl never called you back for a second date.  But once you take charge of you own happiness through your own attitude you'd be amazed how different your world will seem.

Step Two:  Surround yourself with positivity

  Some people are just happiness suckers.  They suck the happiness out of everything.  And as much as that sounds like a villain from an episode of the Teletubbies, I know you are thinking of someone who is like that right now!  That guy who is always complaining about his wife, his job, the weather.  That girl who thinks everything sucks and the world is out to get her.

Get rid of these people.

 

  You don't need that negativity in your life.  These people bring you down more than you know.  I know it is difficult but sometimes in order to do what's best for you, you have to cut ties with these people.

 

Step Three:  Find something you care about and pour yourself into it

 

    This can be ANYTHING.  While I highly recommend fitness, maybe 5 days a week at the gym isn't your thing.  Maybe reading a book series is more you.  Volunteering, cars, politics, your new fitness blog, whatever it is invest yourself into it.

 

  The old saying, "you get out of something what you put into it" applies here.  Once you invest yourself in something in a complete way the dividends paid out to you through happiness and self satisfaction are immeasurable. 

Step Four: Do some fitness

 Seriously. There are piles and piles and piles of research that show a direct correlation between physical activity and happiness.  Besides the physiological factors of endorphins and feel good chemicals being released while you exercise, nothing feels better than being able to say at the end of the day, "well at least I got a good workout in."   What this boils down to is healthy people are happy people.  And the only thing keeping you from that is yourself.  Do some pushups!

  You aren't going to be happy all the time.  Everyone needs a night alone with "Marley & Me," a family sized box of Oreos and their own thoughts every once in a while.  But I believe that if you make the effort, keep happy people around you, pursue your passion, and do some squats, there is no reason you should have to go through life a mopey sad sac of suck.


With good health, big smiles, and strong hamstrings,
Mike

#mcm November 10, 2014

#mcm

Today goes out to....

  Me

Man, I'm awesome.

  With good health and strong hamstrings,

Mike 

I got called a Bro: Mike's Tumble Down the Self-Perception Rabbit Hole

I got called a bro.  And I'm troubled.

  Earlier this week I was at a live music show in Ames, Iowa with my good friend. We'll call him Bill for this story.  We laughed, danced, sang, drank beers, and had a merry good time.  We casually carried on amongst ourselves and a few of his female friends.  A good time was had by all.

And then everything changed.

  We returned back to Des Moines to meet up with a separate group of his friends at The Royal Mile, an awesome English pub style bar.  Whilst enjoying "Fancy Beer Whatever" we all engaged in fun, lighthearted, casual conversation.  

  I found myself in a very nice conversation with a blonde 20-something female named Allison.  Allison was very kind.  She explained to me that she is a law student at Drake.  She further explained upon my inquiry that she was going into divorce law specifically. I was intrigued and asked her why divorce law.  Allison told me she wanted to help mediate divorces because she was a child of not one but two divorces and wanted to make the transition as smooth as possible for the children.  

Wow, I thought.  An intelligent, attractive, female with a heart!

  And then Bill slurred his way into the conversation.  Bill fumbled into the conversation with something to the likes of, "Hey Allison! You meet my BRO Mike!?"

And everything went down hill from there.

  Allison replied to Bill with judgement in her eyes, "Yeah, your friend Mike is a bit of a bro..."

And my stomach proceeded to fall out of my dick hole.

NO ALLISON! NOOOOO!

  We were having a good conversation.  We were talking about our goals and aspirations!  I was giving you non-confrontational body language!  I WAS MAKING STEADY CONSISTENT EYE CONTACT!  HOW COULD YOU!?

  I immediately flailed to defend myself.  I asked her why she thought I was a bro.  She pointed to the way I was dressed.  Slim fitting pants, an Express t-shirt covered by a heather grey cardigan, and boat shoes.  She mentioned my physique.  She even had the audacity to say I was hitting on her.

And then the conversation shifted.  But it was too late.  The damage had already been done.

  I was left, swirling, with my own thoughts and feels.  How could this flow-y dress wearing hipster girl, who now suddenly reeked of PBR, organic soap, and self righteousness call ME and BRO!?

And this is where my trouble begins.

  Upon leaving the bar I raised the issue to Bill, desperately seeking affirmation from my friend that Allison was overly judgement and completely unfounded.  But no such relief from my despair was found.  Bill told me that I exude "bro-ness" to those around me., quoting the same reasons Allison had given me only minutes earlier.  And further I fell down the rabbit hole.

  Bill's a smart guy but I needed a second, third, and fourth opinion to be sure.  And it only got worse.  All of my friends not only agreed with Allison and Bill's diagnosis of me being a bro, but they also questioned me.  All of them saying, "You seriously didn't know that you're a bro?"

I felt like one of those women on "I Didn't Know I was Pregnant."

  I was completely blind sided by not only this perfect strangers perception of me, but also some of my closest friends perception of me.  I have always identified as the grey area between hipster and bro.  I listen to jazz music while I bench press.  I take gluten free protein bars with me to Army training.  I wear slim fitting jeans and sarcastic t-shirts of cartoons from my childhood.  I read astronomy news articles while I prepare my meals for the week.  I have always enjoyed all the stereotypical aspects of both lifestyles.

I never thought I was just one specifically.

  A "bro" to me, is a entitled white male between the ages of 18 and 25.  They can be seen at your local sports bar wearing RVCA trucker hats, tank tops, and Reef flip flops.  Common topics of discussion include sports of any kind, that dumb sophomore they hooked up with last weekend, and that epic time they won at Edward Forty Hands.  Don't expect any type of intelligible conversation out of this type as they are too busy knocking back shots of Fireball and admiring their own triceps as they just started a new body building program last week. A bro's most likely course of action on any given night is to slam a bottle of Admiral Nelson with other bros and continue out to their favorite Darin Beck establishment to pursue this weeks flavor of blonde or brunette.

Have I painted a terrible enough picture for you yet?

 So, to me, to be associated in ANY capacity with what I view as the lowest form of human existence was like being punched in the soul by some bro's favorite UFC fighter.

  But why get so butt-hurt over one seemingly harmless comment?  Does this random strangers opinion of me have any real impact on my life?  Does her labeling me a bro therefore make me a bro?  Was Descartes right? "I bro, therefore, I am bro."  (exact quote)

  Self perception is tricky.  We want people to see us for who we believe ourselves to be.  We dress a certain way, behave a certain way in order to be perceived how we want to be perceived.  Where I went wrong was believing that this girls topical observation of me defined who I am.  But after much thought I have realized that very few people see us and appreciate us for who we truly are.  These people are called our family and our closest friends.  These are the people that will see through your quirks, your defense mechanisms, and your "social masks" and truly understand you.  And as long as you have some good ol' self love, who really gives a shit what anyone else thinks?

  As much as I detest, "Haters gonna hate," there is something to be said about this phrase.  And I believe it is the most applicable solution to bring me out of the rabbit hole.  Everywhere you go in life whether it be at work, in the gym, or at your local bar, people are going to judge you.  Others may not like what you do or who you are.  They will pretend to be better than you, raise their nose to you, and scoff.  And the best advice I can give you is something I am learning myself.  You do you boo boo.


With good health and strong hamstrings,
Mike  

      

Single and ready to pretend like I know anything about dating

If you couldn't tell from my previous entries I am single. 

Very. Single.

 

Completely heterosexual bromances don't count

And I have been for a long time.

  When you've been single for as long as I have, you start to take note of the people around you and their relationships.  I've seen friends blast through hook ups, flings, "oh, we're just talking" and long term relationships faster than I can finish a bottle of whisky.  I've somewhat jealously scoffed at my peers adorable engagement and pregnancy announcements on the Facebook.  Throughout all of this I have remained the perpetual bachelor.  The lone(ly) wolf.  The party of one.

I said bromances don't count!

  To say that I haven't enjoyed the single life would be a complete and total lie.  Independence is great.  The freedom to do what I want, when I want is almost unbeatable.  Not feeling responsible for anyone's happiness but my own is liberating!  However, there comes a time when making pasta for one person is just too depressing.

It's called every time

 

As I have ventured through the ups and downs of being single I have found some "interesting" articles from "real" writers online about what a relationship is supposed to be.  These writers claim to know exactly what you need in a significant other..  Everything from simple gestures to intricate personality matching  has been mentioned. 

I have to ask though, is finding the right person and falling in love really that complicated?

    To me, if you fall in love with someone flaws and little discrepancies disappear, both yours and theirs.  The way they don't trim their nails every week doesn't matter. Their hair color is simply unimportant.  Their passions become your passions. 

  Now I may be the wrong person to be saying this having been out of the "dating game" for so long but I myself have come up with a list of things to look for in a significant other that I want to share with you today.

1.  Find someone who genuinely cares for and respects you and others around them.
2.  Find someone you genuinely care for and respect.

And that's it.

  Too simple?  I think not.  Too often in relationships, even friendship, we overlook these rudimentary values and how much they are worth.  I believe that with these two characteristics you can build a strong and loving relationship with anyone.  Maybe even with a republican!  (LOL)

  
  Am I saying this will guarantee you find your soul mate, "the one," or the love of your life?  Absolutely not.  But you'd be amazed at how much more intimate of a connection you can have with anyone if you keep these two ideas in mind.

  
With good health and strong hamstrings,
Mike

Craigslist Posting: Missed Connections: Generation Next

I've been struggling with something for a while.

People.

  People are really hard.  We are all a complex set of thoughts, feelings, and experiences all wrapped up in a watery goo. (Taken from my human anatomy notes that I just made up)  The crazy part is generally speaking, we understand the gooey parts.  Legs go here.  Eyes go here.  Kidneys go there.  Physically there is a form and function to everything.  It's the rest of that feely-thinky stuff that really gets gooey.

  Now I am about as much a social psychologist as I am a writer. (maybe you've seen my blog?)  but in my 25 years on this earth I feel like I am no closer to understanding people than I was they day I came into it.  And I'm not even talking about the real crazies.  I'm talking about the people you see every day.  That cute girl that works at Bed, Bath and Beyond who helped you decorate your apartment, the homely bartender at your local dive, the hoards of 20-somethings with their noses glued to their cell phones and crying out for a deeper connection.  

And this is where I am currently struggling.

  My generation is lost.  Not in the, "You'll never amount to anything and you've failed me as a son" (MOM!)  sense, but in the "We are all wanting to be connected to something bigger and do something bigger but we are all too 'plugged in' to see the world around us" kind of lost.

  We share pictures of pop-tarts and airplane wings in fancy filters to get an electronic thumbs up.  We share our 140 character thoughts to show how clever we are and how much fun we are having without our ex.  We put our headphones in, sunglasses on, and pretend we didn't just make eye contact across the room.

  Our interactions are hollow.  We talk about sports statistics and Miley Cyrus.  (She is still relevant right?)  We regale stories of blacked-out nights and hungover mornings.  We brag about all the "fucks we don't give."  Our conversations are as meaningful as your high school GPA in a job interview.

 It is so exhausting!

  Living in a new city has been a challenge for me.  Branching out and meeting new like minded people has been more difficult than I had expected it to be.  I have waded through so many "So where are you from?  What's your major?"  chats that if I have one more I may vomit.

   Our communications lack content and connection.

  So ask yourself, when was the last time you had a REAL conversation?  Have you been emotionally or intellectually challenged by a conversation recently?  When was the last time you talked to someone about what you or they love?  Whether they love music, fitness, cooking, muscle cars, nature, who cares what it is!  When was the last time you told someone how you truly felt?

There is such a deeper connetion we could all be having if we could just open up and talk.  Share yourself with someone else.  Ask them how they are doing, and REALLY care.

    Maybe if we shared our hearts instead of our weekend plans we'd feel connected.  Maybe if we opened ourselves up to those around us we'd feel like we belong.  Show someone kindness and compassion instead of cute dog videos.  

  People are really hard.  Our young generation is struggling to find its way.  But I believe with a little kindness and good conversation we can start to feel like we at least belong here, together.

With good health and strong hamstrings,

Mike

Mike Gets Menopause at the Gym

Trust me, it only gets worse.

  Today, I bring you a story from my workout.  This is all true.  It happened.  And I'm not ashamed.

  On my current program, Monday's are my heavy leg days.  Unlike many people I cherish these days.  I live for the "post leg workout I just got hit by a train" feeling.  So, today, I was very excited to get into the gym and move some weight around.  

  Now at the gym. I'm a bit of a recluse.  I put my headphones in, crank the dubstep, and shut out the world.  And today was no exception to that.  Until I started my incline leg presses.

 About two working sets in out of five I was moving 450# for sets of 4-6.  Yes that's me bragging, deal with it.  When suddenly the WUB WUB WUB WUB BWWAAAAHHH NNNNN ZZZZZ WUB WUB WUB in my headphones came to a lull.  Into my earballs wafts the simplistic piano melody of Gary Jules' rendition of "Mad World" over the gym's speakers.

For those of you unfamiliar with the song

Something in me snapped.

    I was not prepared to hear this song that I truly love.  My complicated emotions of gym rage face and a deep seeded sorrow for our worlds current climate collided like the Spartan 300 and the Persian Army.

  I began shake laughing.  Tears were welling up in my eyes because I was so emotionally distraught.  I was smiling like a crazy person because I was so happy to hear this hauntingly beautiful song I hadn't heard in so long.  My legs were screaming at me like a drill sergeant, "GET ONE MORE REP YOU PANSY!"  

Yeah, that's right.  I didn't stop my set for this nonsense.

  I felt like in that very moment I understood what it was like to get menopause.  My body not functioning the way I want it to.  Cold, angry sweating.  Violent mood swings, from pure elation and euphoria to oppressive sadness and back again, all in the matter of one leg press rep.

  Trying to see myself from an outside perspective in this moment, I had to have looked like Michael Fassbender in X-Men: First Class, minus the fantastic hair and glass cutting jaw line.  That moment where Magneto finds "the point between rage and serenity" and Michael Fassbender is smile-crying whilst making peace with his mother's death and simultaneously stopping Beast from DVRing that weeks episode of "Game of Thrones" by moving their giant 1960s DirecTV dish.  Yes, I realize that joke is fraught with continuity issues but I don't care.  This is my blog.

THAT IS WHAT I LOOKED LIKE

  

  And then the song ended.  I cooly finished my remaining sets, got up from the leg press machine, and began to strip the weight off, being sure to avoid any chance of eye contact with these strangers who had just seen me go through the emotional equivalent of watching Disney's "Up."  And I carried on with my workout as if nothing had happened.

  There is no lesson to this story.  I have no advice based on this event.  If I did it would be something to the likes of, "Don't have an emotional breakdown at the gym.  It makes everyone uncomfortable.  Do that at home with a plate of cheese and season four of Dexter on Netflix by yourself." 

With good health and strong hamstrings,

Mike