The Queen of Tude, and the Queen of Lifts.

Short jog with the dog in the annex this morning.  My legs are trashed.
We met the loose golden retriever dog again.  At first, he appeared to be alone, so I stopped and talked with him and he stopped in the middle of the path, and both dogs were cool.  I was surprised because each time the man had to hold the dog back!  But I wanted to pass it, but I was considering just turning around because there was no owner around.  Meanwhile, it's best to keep things relaxed if at all possible so I kept talking to the dog and mine.  "Hey, guys, everything's cooool..."

Finally the owner comes huffing up and she starts yelling.  Usually it's a couple that walks the dog, but this time the woman was on her own.  At first, I thought she was asking me if it was safe or something, I dunno, so I said it was cool, but she didn't respond and kept yelling.  Finally, I asked "Pardon?" "I'm talking to my dog."  Ok, whatever.  News to the dog too: he wasn't heeding her at all.

She was still at least twenty or so metres away and the dog was attending us, so I talked with him, we walked by, and he came round from behind to sniff my dog and they had a brief mutual whiff.  My dog isn't terribly fond of other male dogs, so I told him "let's go" after a few seconds, and we walked on.  The lady finally made it and I don't know what she was doing; I really wanted to put some distance between the two dogs.  And then, once we had a buffer zone, I smiled and stopped to be polite, to make sure her dog didn't trail us and that we parted on a good note.  This is the South, supposedly the fount of good manners, and 2013 me is trying to use my time here to become a nicer person.

Well, kiss my cold Upper Canadian bitch ass.  I told her "Have a good day," and she turned and left without a word.  Not even the passive aggressive "Bless your heart" (apparently not a kind sentiment around here).  I dealt with both dogs and she was useless.  I don't expect thanks or a cookie, but at least return my smile.   Especially since this was the absolute nicest I've ever been with a poor dog handler, I think.

Ok, maybe she was panicked.  Definitely, she seemed a bit put off-kilter by the situation.  That's understandable.  She might have been yelling quite a bit, and maybe she was telling me to do something, but I could have tuned that out.   My employment history has involved a bunch of yelling from various troubled/special needs/demented people, and I just stop hearing their aggression or panic after a bit.  But usually I remain attuned to their mood; I watch them yell and let the cross words dissipate and then, once we're out of the red zone, I try to turn the ship around.  However, this time, I forgot to do that and just got ticked off.

But that's fuel for the shoulder furnace!!!

I'm running into a familiar problem with the shoulder press: how to get the weights set.  How to get them up there.  I bumped it up to 25 lbs per dumbbell, and getting them from floor to waist was easy and thoughtless, and then getting them up to shoulder height was my Everest.  Sloppy as heck.  Man, that ruined that set.  I was better off at 20 lbs anyway.  I'm still a relative weakling.

Solution?  Clean them, I guess.  It looks like he goes down really low, but what do I know?  Not much yet.

Anyway, this led me to the clean and press, and thus the controversy.  Olympic versus Crossfit versus ???  Catapult versus triple extension?  All of this is new to me.   And I'd thought that deadlifts were rife with debate; it took me a while to distill the basic DL principles: the straight set lower back, unlocked legs, and feeling in the glutes and hamstrings.  So, now I'm in the midst of clean and press research, and I'm still figuring out the drive with dumbbells and with the E-Z curl bar (my kingdom for a barbell!)...but I found out a few things today.  To a certain extent, in my very limited experience, the weight drives the motion.  I started off with 20 pounds on the bar (35 total) and it was way too light.  I could just lift it.  A mere additional 10 pounds forced me to be tighter and I actually got some air.  It just happened.  Yeah!  This is still a work in progress, and I've just begun, and I'm constrained by the curve of the E-Z bar, but what a fun exercise.  I really really like it.  It doesn't feel like what I thought it would. 

A good example, I think.    Research has been frustrating.  I get to a supposedly good video tutorial, read disparaging comments and one that provides a link to a better video, click on that, read disparaging comments and one that provides a link to a better video, click on that, and so on.  So, I just have to wade in and see what stays in the net.

The breakdown.
She's right...the bar feels weightless on the way up to the shoulders.  Which is, basically, mission accomplished.

Anyway, this time, I broke up the pushups and put them in the sets, 20-20-10.  This worked way better than leaving them until the end.  No situps.  I shredded my abs too much at the beach.  It hurts to sneeze.  The sign of progress and, more immediately, needed recovery.