While I intended to make Friday a cheat night, I still more or less went to bed the same time and woke up this morning at 4am. I did get to my gym 5 minutes later than normal. While it remains a rest day with regards to resistance, I did put in a total of 135 minutes of cardio. Unfortunately, I aggravated an old foot injury I picked up in the airport in Miami back in 2012. I intended to spend the day curling a weedwacker, but I chose to postpone that rendezvous.

I still don't have this week's new workout planned, though I have an idea to shore up the time issues I've been having from Friday's workout: instead of performing exercises one arm at a time, just combine them. Also, after further research thanks to YouTube's Scott Herman, from here on out, I will work my curls in a supinated position instead of the prone. For as long as I can remember, I've just pulled up curls while twisting up, not knowing I wasn't fully engaging the bicep. I'm also going to try what he suggests on an incline bench which basically amounts to a drag curl.

I'm excited as I just purchased off of Amazon the DVD box set of my trek series, Deep Space 9. Don't get me wrong, I love me some Picard, but DS9 has more complexity and provides more mystery to space...and I'm a Ron Moore fan. For me, DS9 is a precursor to BSG. I will also be receiving the complete Harry Potter collection on Blu-Ray.

I'm going to really try and make Sunday a rest day—well, I do need to sweep and mop the gym...

I'm a believer that 4am is the best time to workout. Everyone else is on pause and there is nothing competing for my attention sans some old tunes and the iron. The evening has too many inviting distractions. The only drawback is the early bedtime; I love watching movies, but my sleep schedule just can't afford it. Tonight, I'm going to add a cheat night to my schedule—no, no I'm not going to binge carbs. It's strictly staying up later. It's organic as I'll be out cutting the grass close to the time I begin winding down for the day.

The second week of my training program has come to an end. At this time, I have no plans for any organized weekend workouts. Of course, I will be cutting the yard for a couple of hours tonight, though that may change in the future. A guy is supposed to come out and see how manageable it is for him to use my land for hay. Basically, he cuts it once a year to sell the hay to folks in Memphis and I get it cut for free.

My training schedule is strong, yet I'm working out its efficiency and content. I've been working through the idea that my general workout is 1) warmup; 2) around 45 minutes of resistance, 3) and an hour of cardio. However, this morning, I had 61 minutes of resistance and that included my pulling spider curls from the program to speed up things. I've been tightening things up; for example, instead of counting in my head, I use a stopwatch for my 45 second rests. I've also been recording the start times, hoping to be quicker at kicking things off. Right now, from my head on the pillow to my foot hitting the pedal is about 12-15 minutes. Part of that is picking up a signal for phone and connecting to its dubious wifi as that's my sole access to the Internet.

I gotta have my tunes.

For months—come to think of it, years, I had this idea in my head that one day, when I drop all of this fat, I'd run in marathons. I mean, that's the ultimate thing to do, right? It's such a contrast from that life on the couch with the grime of cheesy poofs across my face. To reach that level and do well is a commitment. All of that sweat equity. And those who reach the pinnacle of the sport have a body that...looks sickly. I get it; I understand the value of looking like a feather-plucked bird running in the Boston Marathon. But, is it worth all of that time when no one can tell how accomplished they are sans their pointing at a picture of a finish line on the wall? I mean, if I was out shopping at Home Depot or Walmart with a marathoner's body, would anyone think I was fit or would they just think I was late to a few racks of ribs in my life?

Naw, that's the anti-optimized life. But, if folks get their funzies looking like HeiHei from Moana, I'll clap them straight to the finish line.

Now, I'm not disparaging running. In fact, I look forward to running 5Ks and 10Ks. Again, I have this dream of returning to Memphis in the cool of a spring morning and running in those places of old. My thing is to ask: what is the end goal? What is the ideal? I look at elite marathon runners and know I don't want that.

Let's go with the other health extreme: BEEFCAKE. No, I don't want that. Not even as a natty bodybuilder. I'm not a Death Star; I have no interest in giving one big hit and need to recharge. Now, those with traps over their head are impressive, but they don't build them for endurance. Sometimes I wonder if those monsters of muscle are as frightened of cardio as their cartoon equivalent is of mice. Sure, I covet aspects of their physique just as I do the marathoners' will. But, I have little interest in lifting weights so that I can lift heavier weights only to waddle around a gym like a Cylon refrigerator.

But, don't confuse what I'm saying with some sort of excuse for...a lackadaisical life...a C average...a thirst for lukewarm water...a low-bar mediocrity. There's enough folks out there pouting their I think I can'ts.

Frak that.

No, it is an ideal, one in which I pursued in various disciplines for years. The first time I recognized its attraction was in my natural inclination to choose hybrid classes in MMORPGs like Everquest and later World of Warcraft. I appreciated a character who could do aspects of everything: a DPS, healer, and in a pinch, a tank—a Johnny-on-the-Spot (later I would move to a hunter in WoW so that I could be an army of one). I would recognize it in my own tendences, whether in high school as a geek-jock (unlike today, in '95, geeks WERE NOT COOL) as the president of the computer club while being a varsity wrestler. Or later, where I went from IT support to English teaching and then flipped back to IT, two fields where those in them tend to lack the capabilities of the other. I was never the strongest in either—you'd never expect me to admin an enterprise-level database or have me read Beowulf in its original pronunciation, but I have dual citizenship.

I'm naturally drawn toward developing a program that grabs aspects of both the fleet-footed and the colossus. It's one that attempts to balance stamina and strength, while focusing on agility. Yesterday, I heavily considered excluding martial arts from my program, that perhaps I should just move in a straight line for an hour or just pick up heavy things and put them down. Oh, but how that would have removed the vibrancy—the HEART of my training!

I remain developing a program that is specific to me as I look to the future—a program of balancing stamina, strength, and agility...

...To move freely and interact in the world;

...To glide upon the earth and spring to the heavens above;

...To stretch out my arms like Wolverine and rail against the tempest of Death.

And you better believe it'll result in chiseling out my well-defined abs, "you can bet your hard-earned dollar I will."

But in the mean time, tomorrow is another Arms day.