Body Weights

It's been years since I touched a dead weight (barbell, dumbell, etc). As far as I'm concerned we have all the weight we need to push or pull right here in our flesh and blood. So earlier this year I finally felt comfortable enough to start a body weight campaign to get my strength back - push ups, pull ups, dips, using all sorts of creative apparatus to move this lanky frame around.

Thankfully, calisthenics parks are popping up all over the place, taking advantage of the new wave of fitness geeks who would rather bask in the sunshine as they wince and strain than sit in a dimly lit box, sweating to bad techno music. Now its taken a few months to get to a point where I can truly push myself without fear of popping something, and I'm finally at the point where I can start getting creative. So Ive set some goals for myself this year.

By years end I'll be able to do:
• Muscle up - No kipping crap, but a true and strict muscle up.
• Planche - this will be harder on my shoulders than anything else.
• Archer/walk step pull up - Just because it looks so damn cool

As luck would have it, there's a pretty decent calisthenics spot at UCSC overlooking the Monterey Bay (rough life, I know). It offers most of what I need to GET STRONG, and these mini bars are great for a variety of exercises, including curled-up dips only people with short legs can really master. But I thought I'd give it a shot.

To pushing your body around!

Peace out my strong friends!

- I

Freedom of movement

Hello my friends!

It's been a while, my apologies. Recent events have kept me on the down low, but I'm slowly crawling back. I want to discuss something that might get under the skin of some of the more able-bodied folks out there.

I was talking with a fellow spiney friend of mine who is having a rough time coping with life after surgery. He's in constant pain and residing in a very dark place. A place I'm more than familiar with. He spoke of being a prisoner in his own body. Of locking himself away from the world, of feeling inadequate. Of wanting to move on from this mortal coil. This is a feeling I know all too well.

I didn't judge him. I didn't try to brighten his spirits with empty talk of 'life will get better'. I just listened. I gave him the space to say what he needed to say, free from any obligation to explain himself. Because I know what he's going through, and sometimes you just need someone to listen to you explain what you're feeling without fear of being ignored or patronized.

For those of you reading this who are otherwise able-bodied, meaning you aren't in agonizing pain and live a rewarding and comfortable life, please don't offer your opinion to someone whose existence can only be described as a daily, naked crawl through broken glass. Don't even speak. Just listen. Wanting to bring an end to the pain is very personal, and unless you have been stuck in this bottomless pit of despair with no hope and no end in sight, you have no idea what you're talking about.

If you get upset with a friend who wants to end their pain once and for all, you are being selfish. You are  thinking only of how their absence will affect you, and not their struggle. When every second of every day is a prison cell of pain, the only thing you want is relief. And for some, relief is a soothing pint of morphine away. So if you find yourself speaking with someone who can't see past the mountain of pain crushing their soul, don't speak, just listen.

Sometimes just being heard is enough to get that person through another day.

With that said, I'm thankfully no longer a resident of Darktown. My struggles become more tolerable as time goes by. I'm back to riding my single speed mountain bike, hammering out mile after mile. Pain is still my co-pilot, but I can cope.

Two weeks ago I underwent another round of stem cell injections in my low back, but this time we hit the facet joints further up my spine to help get some relief in areas I'd been neglecting. My body is enjoying a freedom of movement that two and a half years ago seemed impossible. I'm feeling strong for the first time in far too long, and every day is a new opportunity to get stronger.

I will never be satisfied, which helps drive me, but I appreciate each and every moment that I can rise without daggers digging into my spine and forcing me to my knees.

For anyone currently living in Darktown, I know what you're going through. I know the thoughts swirling around in your head can be difficult to rationalize. But they're normal. Don't beat yourself up for simply wanting an end to the pain. My only advice is to find something, a glimmer of progress, any change that feels like a sliver of improvement or hope, and grab onto that hope with everything you have and work your ass off to push forward.

Nothing in life is static. Life IS change. Up, down, sideways, backwards, forwards. We keep moving in different directions. You might have to take two steps back to go one step forward at times. Progress can arrive in inches or miles. It can come slamming down with thunderous force or drizzle across your face like a sweet spring rain. But just Keep. Moving. Forward.

Peace, my friends.

- I

Anniversary

Hello Friends,

Well, my two year anniversary came and went a couple weeks ago. I had been anticipating the two year mark for a while, but the past few months have put my back, well, behind me. I may have mentioned a while ago that my mother was diagnosed with cancer in the fall of 2013. Right after my back took a nose dive. Sadly, mom departed from this rock recently after giving cancer a good run for its money.

I moved back in with mom last December to take care of her while under hospice care at home. So my recovery has taken a back seat to mom's care. I managed to get out early some mornings for quick workouts, and in January I finally started doing some strength training to compliment the biking and swimming. And after a few weeks I'm able to eeek out a few pull ups.

This is from a few weeks ago. Nothing to write home about, but progress. By summer I'm hoping to be up to 25. Pardon my brevity, just not feeling terribly enthusiastic. But I promise more energetic updates in the future.

Peace out my friends.

Year of the Comeback

Hello friends!

First, I must apologize for the long absence. Sometimes when you're living life you lose track of time.

By the end of 2013 I could barely walk more than a few blocks without back seizures forcing me to the ground, literally. I often found myself daydreaming that while hobbling down some random street a Steinway would break free from its swinging cable three stories above and crush me like a cartoon character. I just wanted it to end.

By the end of 2014 I could hike up to 8 miles, albeit in a great deal of pain. The pain wasn't completely limiting me from moving, but it certainly made life far more difficult. The piercing pain I had experienced the year prior was replaced by a deep, and at times over-bearing pressure that, while not enough to make me reach for a gun, still weighed heavily on my spirit.

Today, the final day of 2015, I went for a spirited ride on my sexy-as-hell titanium Kona Honzo in the Santa Monica mountains and hit some sweet jumps! I was far from pain free, but I can ride. And that in and of itself is a massive victory.

I hit the much smaller jumps...

I started (really) riding the mountain bike in May. Now, when I say I rode my mountain bike, what I really mean is I rolled downhill like a snail on quaaludes, and pushed my bike uphill like an asthmatic sloth. Every ride was painful, and the hours after each ride were filled with anxiety about every little twinge and lightening strike down my back and left leg. But as the weeks and months passed things improved, and the mechanical and structural pain turned into muscle pain.

There was a total of 20 glacial months between bike rides. Twenty long, brutal months wondering if 1.) I would be able to ride again, and 2.) If I could manage to turn a crank, would I split in half. Those fears were quickly addressed and now, 7 months since hocking up my lungs at my first Wednesday Night Skeggs ride in over two years, on a good day I can handle 40 miles in the saddle with up to 5,000 feet of climbing. And I can even manage to keep some of my old shredder riding friends in sight on the descents. I'm far from pain free on rides. Riding is still a lesson in patience and my thresholds are tested with each passing mile. Right now in fact, my back is burning up a pretty good storm after today's ride. But I CAN ride. Physically I can turn a crank, stand and mash, bounce off rocks, and put this bit of titanium and polycarbonate wizardry in my spine through it's paces. And for that I'm grateful.

My year in numbers. I didn't start recording my rides until June, so for 6 months
these are respectable stats and more than I had hoped for.

2015 was my year of regaining some strength and finding a place physically where I felt the light at the end of the tunnel wasn't indeed the N Judah train bearing down on me. There are moments, not entire days, but delicious, blissfully serene moments where I'm almost pain free. No pressure, no tension, just a sense of what I think (and hope) most people feel as they walk through their days. And I plan to string together more of these moments until they form a complete day.

I've got another series of stem cell injections planned at the beginning of the year. But this time we're going all the way up my thoracic spine as well. No more playing games. It's go time. The stem cells worked wonders rebuilding the torn ligaments in my SI joints, so I'm hoping it can help with the cranky facets in my mid back.

At the start of the year I had certain hopes and goals, but wouldn't say out loud what most of them were. Over the summer I rode trails in Oregon and the Sierras, and covered hundreds of miles aboard the mighty Honzo in my backyard, AKA the Santa Cruz mountains, appreciating every drop of sweat that gleefully danced down my cheeks. Goals achieved. My hopes and goals for 2016 are bigger...but I'm keeping those a secret as well.

This time next year I hope to be reporting that I met or exceeding my goals for the year both physical and personal, and that pain is an even greater distant memory. And for those of you who have followed my journey, thank you for your time, and I wish you the best year imaginable.

Peace out my friends!

Halfway there

Celebrated yet another trip around the sun yesterday as I charge head first into middle age. As I enter my 46th year on this rock I can't help but reflect on that first half of my life. Let see....

There was the big bang (mom and dad's) that produced me, of course. Then a year later my Cuz was born and we were attached at the hip for the next ten years or so. Literally. We would squeeze into the same large jacket and pretend to be one person.

The rest is a blur. Lots of crashes, scrapes, broken bones, broken hearts, dirt bike adventures, that silly punk rock phase, college (high school was a wash), romantic adventures, dogs, marriage, divorce, hot days at the track in skin tight leathers, shacking up, more broken bones, mountain bike adventures, still more broken bones, and poof, here we are at 46.

In all honesty, I shouldn't be here. Walking the earth, that is. I've cheated the grim reaper more than a few times, and kicked him in the ass as I walked away. But not without some lasting and permanent scars. And now, with each pedal stroke, I smile and give thanks for every second moving forward.

Deschutes River

A couple weeks ago I road-tripped to Bend, Oregon to ride some of their legendary trails with friends. I managed about 65 miles over the course of two days, and drank some fine local brew to numb the post ride pain.

Since I started riding again one of my biggest fears has been crashing. I keep reminding myself that I can't afford to crash. So I've been riding overly cautious. Which I know is a recipe for disaster. When you ride too safe you ride tight. And mountain biking requires the pilot to be loose and relaxed. Unfortunately, my worst fear came true on day two, and on the most harmless section of trail. We had been clearing big rock gardens all day, yet while pedaling along on a flat, smooth section of single track I went flying over the bars after an innocent tree branch laying on the ground found it's way between my spokes locking up my front wheel and sending me into orbit.

I went down hard on my back, and every single doomsday scenario flooded my brain in an instant. I felt a twinge in my low back as I made contact, and thought for a brief moment that it was all over. I struggled to get up a first, but once the initial fear receded I stood, walked it off, and angrily grabbed my bike and continued on for another 20 miles. Sometimes riding angry is a good thing, because from that moment on I stopped riding to 'not crash', and simply rode my bike.

My back was cranky for a while after hitting the deck, but I managed to enjoy the rest of my trip, vowing one day to move to Bend, with Tiny Home in tow.

I knocked out over 100 miles on the mountain bike this past week, and have been averaging about 80 miles a week for the past couple months. Still hitting the pool, but down to 3-4 miles a week since pedaling is taking up more of my time.

I still experience a constant (annoying) pressure in my low back, and while some areas have improved, others, such as sitting on a stool or chair, haven't changed much. Some days are better than others, but when my legs hurt more on a ride than my back, I can't complain too much.

I hope you're all doing well, and keep the rubber side down!

Peace!

A Change is Gonna Come

"There been times that I thought I couldn't last for long
But now I think I'm able to carry on
It's been a long, a long time coming
But I know a change gonna come, oh yes it will"


Hello my friends! It's been far too long, so I should probably catch everyone up.

How am I doing? 

Chilling at 9k feet!

Answer your question?

OK, overall, I'm better. Much better. But it all depends on the activity. I can bang out a few hours in the saddle in the mountains while enduring moderate but manageable pain. But 30 minutes of sitting still on a barstool and I'm ready to jump off a bridge. Why, you ask? Wish I could tell you. The easiest things are the hardest things. People have a hard time believing me when I tell them I can't sit down for dinner for more than an hour, but I can jump on my bike and hammer the 15 miles home with far less physical drama.

I spent the weekend in Tahoe recently with friends riding, drinking, eating, riding some more. Yet the drive up was more painful (far more painful) than the long afternoon climbing and descending over rocks and roots. Seems my body prefers to be in motion.

Swimmer's back!

I'm still getting in some quality miles in the pool each week, but since I can now pedal I'm down to 3 days a week as a fish. Swimming under the warm summer Santa Cruz sun is nice, but nothing beats the trails in the surrounding mountains. So the bike generally wins out when it's time to elevate the heart rate.

At the office

Work has been keeping me busier than I'd like. And by busy I mean more than 4 hours a day. But I can't complain too much as I get to work on a couch at my local coffee place. Freelancing has it's perks and I get to make my own hours. Friends say I'm spoiled, and I'd have to agree. A recently had to spend two hours in a client meeting and it was 1 hour and 59 minutes too long in an office! Don't think I can ever go back to a 9 to 5. I'd rather starve than sit in a cube.

My new girlfriend

Cuzzins

I'm so tempted to say I'm officially turning the corner. But if you recall, when I've said I thought I was starting to take a turn for the better I got smacked down a day or two later. So rather than say I'm FINALLY on solid ground, I'll just say I'm looking forward to some big rides on the mountain bike in the coming weeks and months with friends.

Gio on his new ride!

I'm creeping up on my 18 month anniversary, and while it's been a much longer recovery than I had anticipated, I constantly remind myself that 18 months ago I could barely manage four blocks on foot without severe pain stopping me in my tracks. And today I'm putting down 60-80 hard miles a week on the mountain bike. Far from pain free, but so far from where I've been.

Peace out from the mountains, my friends! I hope you're well.

- I

Tiny Livin'

On the move again. Had to vacate my last tiny house due to PLA (Psycho Landlord Affliction). Fortunately I landed an even better tiny house in a sweet little neighborhood at the foot of Henry Cowell Redwood state park. The property is in the shadows of the redwoods with green stuff sprouting all over the place.

The latest tiny abode

Wall art

It's a mini wild animal kingdom with cats, dogs, chickens, roosters and all the creepy crawlers roaming at night. Peanut the wonder cat is slowly adjusting. He ruled his old stomping grounds with an iron paw, but has been getting his ass handed to him by the local muscle and is trying to find his groove.

Just caaaaall for Super Chicken (puk ack!)

The kicker is that my new landlord also builds tiny houses! He actually builds them in the driveway of his home which is also on the property, although he's currently looking for a massive piece of real estate to build his tiny home empire. He's got more tiny buyers than he can shake a tiny stick at.

Waiting on it's new owner

While my last place was pretty close to trails, I can practically jump out my loft window and hit the trail running at the new crib.

Shredders!

Oh, how's the back doing, you say? Meh, it's a mixed bag. But that's for another conversation. Till then...

Peace out!