Insight

I’ve been realizing that living in a digital age ran by social media has correlated with a decline of independent thought. We consistently quote songs and excerpt literature that has either moved us or interpreted a feeling we couldn’t express ourselves. In turn, its perceived as justified only because its taken from a source that is either popular, or at least accessible, to the general public to be validated credible. Ralph Waldo Emerson, one of my favorite writers, said, “I hate quotations. Tell me what you know.” I’m not boycotting being inspired by others, but more so- Rather than fit our lives into someone else’s recycled perceptions – “Oh wow those words of (insert quote here) really represent me ,” Why not challenge ourselves to–be–the inspiration that represents ourselves? Can we connect with each other through our own creative, independent thought? I feel we all have ideas that are just as inspiring, moving, and -real- as that of anyone else, regardless of how many people hear it. You just have to take the step forward and let it be heard. So I’ve decided to start a collection of my own “isms,” the things I’ve come to learn, live, and stand by throughout the years.

#5. I’ve come to realize that there is a “line” bewtween not doing something and actually doing something. Far too often do we stay on the side of not taking the chance to cross it, living in our fear of what might happen once we do so; a fear based not from actual reality, but past experiences or external influences of others telling you- “maybe this isn’t a good idea.” We live in fear of being judged…being hurt… isolated… rejected… alone… wrong… different. So we stay on the side that allows us to be comfortable, not taking the risks necessary to experience more depth and meaning in our day. On the other side of this line are the promotions we deserve and demand, the truths we need tell,  the words we want someone to hear, the introductions we want to make of ourselves, the love and anger we need to express, the freedom to be ourselves.

You can either live in fear, or act in fear. You can choose to only exist in your imagination and contemplate all the negative things that might happen so greatly to the point where your mind makes you feel like it actually happened already…or you can  exist in reality– and experience the excitement of leaning into your fears and facing the actual outcome of a situation when you go for what you want and act in a way that is authentic to you. For that is the adventure of life, and that is the adventure that can be found in every single moment around you presenting all the lines between not doing something, and just doing it. So rather than feeling unsatisfied just playing the story in your head, you can choose to act…and have a great story you’ll be able to learn from and share.

For the time being, until i can figure out a way to categorize and collect these “random isms,” they will be categorized under “What I know”

It’s 2:30 in the morning and I’m walking to my car after a nice birthday celebration and this is what I come back to. The front passenger side window smashed and shards of glass covering the inside of my car. But not just my car, the whole row of cars down the block.

And it’s not even my car. It’s a rental. My truck is sitting in a shop after being in an accident (one out of my own control) just a few days before. The same truck that was also broken into last fall. Talk about bad luck. Maybe someone is hinting to me the benefits of public transportation.

But here’s what’s most interesting about this incident; The very reason I’ve taken the time to write about it. You see, I haven’t had a lot of free time lately to do any personal writing due to consistent news coverage with the NATO summit and everything else going on in my life, but sometimes you have to take a moment to reflect on the certain things you experience within yourself when life throws you curveballs and you see for whatever reason you adjust, adapt, and change. Simply put:

My reaction last year the first time this happened:

“What the $*(@#(&$))#*@! “

As I cursed up a storm at the top of my lungs, blood boiling, looking to get back at whoever smashed my window, stole my ipod, and would then force me to pay for the broken window. I even irrationally got into a confrontation with some guy in the middle of the street that told me to “quiet down.”

But…my reaction this time around:

“Well, what are you going to do? At least its not too cold out.”

I just couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. Maybe it was the de ja vu that made me recall how angry I was last year, and realizing that negativity doesn’t provide progress. I don’t know, but something just clicked. For whatever reason, regardless of how life changes–and I could definitely say life is very much different than that of last year– it doesn’t excuse you from the inevitable bullshit you come face to face with. Even if, as in my case, when it’s the same exact identical bullshit,  a new chapter in your life no longer presents the same exact person.

Maybe there’s nothing too profound about getting your window broken and I’m thinking too deep on the subject. But I kind of compare it to  the struggles we face in many aspects of our everyday lives, right? We get our windows–our hearts–our confidence–our personal pride– broken all the time. Not only in love and romantic relationships, but in our personal goals for accomplishment and everything else in between.

But it’s not about the material things in your life that can be broken or stolen from you. Everything can be replaced. It’s not about how much everything costs, or trying to do something about the people in this world who thrive upon looking out for their own best interests and add misfortune into the lives of others. It’s about appreciating the things  no one can break or take from your posession. No matter how many times someone or some type of bad luck comes into your life and starts smashing up everything.

It’s about sticking to your original plans and  sweeping the glass off the seat for your passenger and welcoming the breeze as you can’t do anything but smile and eventually forget why the window is down in the first place, because no one should ever stop you from enjoying yourself and doing what you want to do with who you want to be with. It’s about sharing old traditions with new friends of your late night eating spots, laughing while sharing stories between one another, because nothing and no one should stop you from appreciating the value in the relationships you make with others.  It’s about the 5 a.m. drive home with one of your closest friends as the sun rises and you both joke that you’ve both seen the same sunrise together plenty of times  before –(you’re just missing a window this time)– because one bad incident is overshadowed by the plenty of great memories you’ve had along the way.

We, as people, will experience a lot of broken windows in the inevitable ups and downs of life. Death, loss, stress, heartbreak… literally getting your window broken… but sometimes you just have to realize you can’t do anything about what you can’t control nor feel the need to understand the reasons for the unexplainable actions of others. I think the greater satisfaction and lessons learned in the end will be found when you were able to maintain positivity and appreciate the worth of what really matters. It’s not about the car. It’s the people in the car with you, the places you’ve been and the destinations you’re heading.

So clean up the glass and fix the window already. We got places to be.


I’ve been realizing that living in a digital age ran by social media has correlated with a decline of independent thought. We consistently quote songs and excerpt literature that has either moved us or interpreted a feeling we couldn’t express ourselves. In turn, its perceived as justified only because its taken from a source that is either popular, or at least accessible, to the general public to be validated credible. Ralph Waldo Emerson, one of my favorite writers, said, “I hate quotations. Tell me what you know.” I’m not boycotting being inspired by others, but more so- Rather than fit our lives into someone else’s recycled perceptions – “Oh wow those words of (insert quote here) really represent me ,” Why not challenge ourselves to–be–the inspiration that represents ourselves? Can we connect with each other through our own creative, independent thought? I feel we all have ideas that are just as inspiring, moving, and -real- as that of anyone else, regardless of how many people hear it. You just have to take the step forward and let it be heard. So I’ve decided to start a collection of my own “isms,” the things I’ve come to learn, live, and stand by throughout the years.

#5. Let it be said first–there is no universal rule to fully understanding women. There’s a certain perspective held by women and their experiences which are specific solely to them,  a man can never fully understand. Believing there is a characteristic–a key– shared by all women easily grasped is a path walked foolishly without a destination, as ignorance makes you miss out on something more valuable than your own agenda. You realize it’s not about “understanding all women,” but accepting “a woman” as an individual with a story behind them filled with their own passions and goals which make them unique.  So it begins with listening…  Setting aside  your own needs, desires, beliefs and past experiences that form your perceptions of women to pass judgement. Followed by responding in empathy because you’ve found the worth in learning more. Then, through remembering, you piece together the complexity that makes up the individual persona of a woman you can’t help but be amazed by and respect.

Now this pertains to romance, friendship, and even your own mother. It’s not about interpreting women, it’s about interpreting yourself. The way you treat, communicate to, and perceive women exemplifies the type of man you actually are. Once you face that reality, you then ask yourself the question if that’s really the type of person you want to be.

(Note to Women: I think It pretty much works both ways? A respectful guy should care if you listen to the interesting things he has behind him too.)

(Note to Men: I apologize if this wasn’t enough. That’s really all I got.)

For the time being, until i can figure out a way to categorize and collect these “random isms,” they will be categorized under “What I know”

Spring is here, and it’s usually the time of the year people really start searching for motivation to hit the gym, join a fun-run, or just start finding ways to go through their days a little bit healthier. I hurt my back over the winter snowboarding, and I’ve spent the last few months rehabbing it, taking it pretty easy in the gym. Now just recently fully recovered, I really want to continue with the goals I have for this year and start training for some specific events I have in mind.  So I decided to revive one of the first few posts I wrote when I started this blog, “One more rep.” It all pretty much still stands true, a few edits here and there, some typos… but I don’t think I could really say how I feel about about the interdependency of fitness and life-enjoyment any better. I needed a good reminder, anyways. I can’t preach what I don’t practice.

This is for anyone who ever ignored the snooze button to beat the morning heat of the open road. For the last available bike at spin class, and the open bench press on chest day.  For the painful stitch in your side, the calluses on your hands…. for the “good sore.”  For the towel you lay on the treadmill display so you have no idea how long you’ve ran, and for the moment you lift it off to see the extra 10 minutes you’ve never had in you before.  To  the new years resolutioners and their commitment which allows them to proudly separate themselves from the incoming pack the following January. For those who put in work in the gym to be stronger on the court, and the distant sight of the finish line at your very first 5K. Your sun salutation. This is for the 5 lb plate you added to the stack when you can finally declare you raised your max… and for eventually hitting it twice.

I don’t write this because  I hold any expert knowledge in the  area of physical fitness. I do a lot of reading, and ask a lot of questions, but I still don’t know much. Nor do I believe myself to be in any type of peak physical condition so that I should hold myself as an example to anyone else.  I write this because I, like yourself, know what it means to take the step forward dedicated to be stronger, run faster, jump higher, feel healthier, and live better. I write this with hope that, there is at least one person who can relate when I say I understand what it feels to anxiously watch the clock pass, waiting until my daily obligations are fulfilled in order to get to the gym, and the way the mind makes you perceive yourself to becoming weaker just because your hectic schedule doesn’t allow you to go to the gym for three days. Similar to so many others, physical training– just like writing–  has become over the years an outlet from external stressors, broken relationships, and demanding obligations; a form of therapy that has taught me much discipline in other aspects of my life along with valuable lessons I continue to learn.

I write this with nostalgic remembrance  to the people I have crossed paths with in every weight room I’ve set foot in, taking the  time to assist me and provide advice when asked. I hope that one day i can attain such in-depth  knowledge so that I may justifiably provide it to others.   I write this in dedication to my friends; who constantly tell me stories of their own training, their own accomplishments… for their dedication is my inspiration. For just as a spotter is there mentally as he is there physically, and how the presence of a running partner psychologically pushes you harder, these people in my life have constantly served as a mental spot to me.. in– as well as out– of the gym.

The gym.

 I consider the environment of the gym to be  analagous to life itself… it’s facilities and resources- equally accessible to its patrons. Much like life, every individual is there for their own reasons, with their own goals, drives, their own ways of handling that same reality. There’s a thriving sense of community with a unique culture based on respect for one another  just for being there in the first place.  The gym is one of the few places where your achievements are not belittled–nor is your individuality judged– by the color of your skin, your age, sexual orientation, or how much money you make. It’s where language barriers are easily hurdled by understanding the universal gesture of- “Hey, would you mind giving me a spot?”


When I joined the military at 18 years old,  I was 155 pounds, and barely spent any time in a weight room.  A deployment to Kirkuk Air Base in Iraq would transition “barely spent any time” to “spending every available moment” in the gym. There’s very few things that pass the time sufficiently enough without losing your sanity, and the gym became a place to spend many nights relieving my mind from the stress of being away from the people closest to me, and  from all you could imagine which accompanies the time being down range. Any military member who has spent time overseas can understand the commitment for self improvement and the psychological benefits of physical training. Initially, I could barely press anything over a hundred pounds. But from that point on, just as a runner craves the endorphins released during “the high,”  I became physically and emotionally dependent to the weight room; a palce that even for just a brief moment of the day, became a type of sanctuary away from the pressures of life.

So, I began doing a lot of research, asked a lot of advice, and observed. I believe my experiences are not much different than many others…I too have asked the age old question- “How do you burn fat and build muscle?” That of which the answer entails the complexity of conflicting requirements. I have also wondered what a complex carbohydrate was, what are good supplements,  imagined – only imagined-  what it would be like to juice,  learned the hard way by injury  the fundamental need of good form,  and my favorite-… the aromatic consequence of not immediately washing a shaker cup.

The body.

It’s quite amazing what the human body is capable of. In an ever changing world that continues to place a rising value on the development of technology, I believe technology only supplies a restricited, artificial model that ignores how we can truly act, interact, and create in our environment. So, in the hypothetical sense that if all technology comes to an end, we are only left with the bare essentials; That being our bodies and natural ability. “Natural ability” not  referring to the intrinsic characteristics brought by heredity, but more so our bodies ability to “perform in nature.”

There’s a world out there just waiting for us to step away from our daily routines, so that we may experience all that it has to offer. So we hike, surf, explore,  skate, rock climb, scuba dive… and simply “play”. Physical training allows us to develop our level of physicality so that we can optimally work and “play” in whatever way that caters to our individual needs of excitement and pleasure.

Yet, As some of us may strive for goals that are in part focused on the aesthetics of physique, I believe that we should first begin by being content and happy with our bodies, and strive not for visual improvement  for the pleasure of others, but improvement of overall health and ability for the sake of ourselves. And only ourselves. Superficial change should not be a sole purpose, but only a result,  dependent when you commit yourself to a regimen. Because when all we focus on is how we look, we will only be discouraged by the lack of expected results, rather than encouraged by the small continual goals we achieve by persistance.  And always enjoying ourselves. Enjoyment allows freedom. Freedom is peace.

On Eating.

At the present moment, although I used to, I don’t count carbs, ensure a specific level of caloric intake, keep attention to detail my sugars, sodium, fats, etc. More so, my eating habits can best be explained by an analogy I once heard.  The things you consume is like fuel for a car. The better the fuel, the better your motor performs. The more  fuel you put in it, the longer you drive. But when you use bad fuel, and although the motor is still able to run, the waste that doesnt get processed compiles up and reduces the motor’s efficiency. That being said, in relationship to the body and eating, and motor and fuel, The stronger the motor works, the more fuel it burns.”Strength of the motor” not being the actual level of strength, but the  level of exertion relative to your body.

So you HAVE to push yourself  past your comfort zone in order to produce results. If you stay in one comfort zone, regardless of your level of strength, your body becomes complacent and having to work less, burning less. Because “A v 12 engine will burn more fuel than a 2 cylinder Daewoo when both are working at their peak, but yet- A v12 engine  going 5 mph will burn less fuel than a 3 cylinder Daewoo redlining at well, 50?”  It’s still redlining regardless.

I’ve experimented with dieting and eating plans, but I don’t have the discipline; and I highly respect anyone who does. I love food. I eat a slice of pizza if its there, and enjoy a nice cold beer when the occasion presents itself. Matter of fact, I actually wrote part of this post while indulging in a plate of “554.”(above) BBQ pork over rice, for those of you who are not Chicago natives or have never experienced the pleasure of Seven Treasures in Chinatown. Seriously. But I pay for it in the gym.

On Motivation.

Today, most of my motivation does not derive from observing the  people putting up extraordinary amounts of weight, nor is it the centerfold poster of Arnold Schwarzenegger in his prime during the 70′s I used to carry around in my military duffel when I was 19. My motivation comes from the people who choose to use there bodies to there highest potential, not taking for granted the opportunity to learn more about themselves through physical experience, never settling for failure in the face of a challenge.

Much like a particular man I consider to be a regular at the gym I presently go to; he’s no older than 40, and he has lived the majority of his life in a wheel chair due to his legs having never developed past the size of a 12 year old. But he’s still in the gym, sweating it out like everyone else, being grateful for what he is still capable of despite a handicap. That alone speaks volumes of character; his refusal to be restricted due to lacking the standard physicality completely undermines any  perceived  standard of what it takes to live happily active. He’s the epitome of how the only limitations are those we set for ourselves and no one else can ever determine what we are not able to do.  So If he’s in the gym, I have no reason not to be.  For that very reason,  I’ll still be at the ripe old age of 70, still in the gym with a sweatband and an oversized T-shirt saying, “#1 Gramps.”

I can only hope for whoever takes the chance to read this, there is at least one person who can relate to my experiences and shares my mentality towards physical training. Ive come to realize there’s a defining moment that occurs precisely at the end of a run when you finally catch your breath; the moment when a  mental “click” occurs that tells you that you can still keep going, or the moment approaching the brink of muscle failure while lifting, and you contemplate either racking the weight or pushing out one more. And that same moment happens at the end of an long day when you consider taking a day off from your workout schedule, or  considering not losing the hour of sleep when the alarm goes off in the morning telling you to head to yoga class. At this precise moment, the mind balances out numerous factors, assessing the body, manifesting excuses, inclined to put it off for another day.  So I can only hope, how others have motivated me throughout the years, this post will motivate them when this precise moment occurs; that at least one person will dig deep to push themselves past the limits, proudly experiencing how personal satisfaction outweighs succumbing to whatever excuses there are to not put forth the effort. And that’s not just in training, that applies to life itself. When we are constantly underestimated by others, what good is it to underestimate ourselves?  So when the option is presented  to either stop or keep going, (or to even go at all), see what happens when you choose the latter and tell yourself that it’s just a little time out of the day… just a few laps in the pool… just an hour of yoga… Just a bit longer… Just a bit farther…. Just five pounds more… Just one more set…

…Just one more rep.

You might surprise yourself.

I’ve been realizing that living in a digital age ran by social media has correlated with a decline of independent thought. We constantly  quote songs and excerpt literature that has either moved us or interpreted a feeling we couldn’t express ourselves. In turn, its perceived as justified only because its taken from a source that is either popular, or at least accessible, to the general public to be validated credible. Ralph Waldo Emerson, one of my favorite writers, said, “I hate quotations. Tell me what you know.” I’m not boycotting being inspired by others, but more so- Rather than fit our lives into someone else’s recycled perceptions – “Oh wow those words of (insert famous quote here) really represent me ,” Why not challenge ourselves to–be–the inspiration that represents ourselves? Can we connect with each other through our own creative, independent thought? I feel we all have ideas that are just as inspiring, moving, and -real- as that of anyone else, regardless of how many people hear it. You just have to take the step forward and let it be heard. So I’ve decided to start a collection of my own “isms,” the things I’ve come to learn, live, and stand by throughout the years.

#3. Time does not heal all wounds. Time is just the measurement of how long it takes for us to realize we don’t have enough of it to waste on neglecting the other things in life we can find happiness in and appreciate.

Time only requires you to learn from the scars which time makes you carry.


For now, until i can figure out a way to categorize and collect these “isms,” they will be categorized under “What I know”

I’ve been realizing that living in a digital age ran by social media has correlated with a decline of independent thought. We consistently quote songs and excerpt literature that has either moved us or interpreted a feeling we couldn’t express ourselves. In turn, its perceived as justified only because its taken from a source that is either popular, or at least accessible, to the general public to be validated credible. Ralph Waldo Emerson, one of my favorite writers, said, “I hate quotations. Tell me what you know.” I’m not boycotting being inspired by others, but more so- Rather than fit our lives into someone else’s recycled perceptions – “Oh wow those words of (insert quote here) really represent me ,” Why not challenge ourselves to–be–the inspiration that represents ourselves? Can we connect with each other through our own creative, independent thought? I feel we all have ideas that are just as inspiring, moving, and -real- as that of anyone else, regardless of how many people hear it. You just have to take the step forward and let it be heard. So I’ve decided to start a collection of my own “isms,” the things I’ve come to learn, live, and stand by throughout the years.

#2. Your father may have been there every step of the way or left you before you could walk. And throughout life he either becomes your best friend… or your worst enemy.

But somehow always has a hand in the greatest lesson you may ever learn.

For the time being, until i can figure out a way to categorize and collect these “random isms,” they will be categorized under “What I know”

This is a follow up to one of my previous posts, “Art and Understanding,” which was somewhat of a preview to one of my articles that was currently in the process of publication. Now that it has been pressed, I can finally throw the article up here on my blog. Link to the online publication (note: more photos displayed in this blog post)

Joseph Fornelli, Art Director and Vietnam War Veteran


Where art and understanding meet.

A Vietnam veteran helps give a retrospective look into war

Flipping through a book of artwork sold in the gift shop of the National Veterans Art Museum, art director Joe Fornelli explains he wasn’t the most educated growing up. But at a young age he discovered a talent for art and brought it with him when drafted into the Vietnam War at 21. With just a piece of notepad paper, a self made brush, and instant coffee for ink, he would create elaborate paintings sitting in his bunker to pass the time. Once, after a bunker had been destroyed by a mortar attack, he pulled a piece of lumber from the debris, carved it into a head, created a headdress for it from used .50 caliber rifle shells, and dubbed it an Asian deity.

He finds the picture of it in the book and points to the description—“’Dressed to Kill,’ by Joseph Fornelli.”

“I told you I was a famous artist,” he laughs. “I just don’t have any money.”

Walking through the museum’s airy, industrial loft-like space, Fornelli transitions between details of the war-inspired artwork created by veterans and the museum’s history before opening its doors at 1801 S. Indiana Avenue in 1996. Passionate and outspoken to discuss his love for art, Fornelli emphasizes the value of art to those traumatized by war as both a form of expression and therapy.

He stops at Marcus Eriksen’s sculpture, “Angel in the Desert,” lying center in of one of the rooms. On a convoy in Iraq, Ericksen witnessed a dead Iraqi soldier blown from a jeep, lying in the sand with wing-like markings around where he lay; markings from waving his hands in the last moments of life, Erickson assumed. The image forever burned into his mind, now on display at the museum. Also, hanging from the ceiling is Jon Turner’s “Prayer Boots,” filled with hundreds of messages written by visitors, acting as a vehicle to deliver thoughts of peace to veterans affected by war.

“There’s a bond here that goes beyond family, beyond religion,” the 69-year-old Chicago native said. “It may not be sophisticated, but it’s powerful.”

Fornelli's "Dressed to Kill"

Fornelli's painting made with instant coffee

Fornelli's painting made with instant coffee

Working with Fornelli is Anjalee Verma, Special Projects Coordinator at the Museum. An artist herself and attending graduate school for art therapy this Fall at the Art Institute, she began her employment in 2011 and since then has attained a deeper insight of the importance of art, more than for art’s sake.

“The experiences of war can strip someone of their identity,” Verma said. “But art gives them a chance to see themselves again and regain their individuality.”

To Verma, the gallery is evidence that regardless of experience or training, everyone is a creative agent able to ascend to a higher level of communication and expression through art, reaching out to those who come visit the museum.

“Sometimes people don’t even know how to react because they didn’t know art could be so powerful,” she said. “It’s an overall moving experience for them.

People like Ron Schinleber, quietly walking through the gallery observing the different pieces.Schinleber is also a Vietnam veteran and he understands how debilitating the mental effect of war can be for veterans.

“What we experienced back then is something we carry with ourselves for the rest of our lives,” Ron said. “I just hope art helps them comes to terms with it.”

Erikson's "Angel in the Desert"

Turner's "Prayer Boots"

Turner's "Prayer Boots"

Vietnam was the first war ever televised, creating a negative perspective of U.S. soldiers as Americans were exposed to uncensored horrific footage.  Author Bob Greene described in his book, “Returning Home,” the poor public reception of returning soldiers, spat on and deemed as savages due to their image in the media. Disconnect between the public and veterans increased as the majority of soldiers could not express what they had been through, debilitated by their experiences.

“Vietnam was a word that no one could understand,” Fornelli said. “For soldiers, the pain of Vietnam was something better locked away.”

In 1981, believing in the power of empathy found in art, Fornelli joined with other veteran artists to form the Vietnam Veterans Art Group, and created collection of artwork inspired by the experiences of combat veterans. Their first exhibit, “Reflexes and Reflections,” gave a unique, humanistic perspective of the war through the artistic psyche of the soldier, widely received by the ten thousand visitors it welcomed in just five weeks.

“I even started getting calls from veteran artists from all over the place,” Fornelli said. “The first thing [one artist ] told me was, ‘I thought I was the only one who did this stuff!’”

After touring in galleries and museums across the country, with the support of Richard M. Daley the exhibit found its permanent home in the South Loop.  It stands as a gateway for hundreds of war artists—including those of Iraq and Afghanistan—using art as a medium of expression to introduce their work to the public. With pieces coming in from all over the world, Fornelli rotates exhibits with the thousands of pieces stacked high to the ceiling of its storage area, each with a unique story to tell.

“The fact we’re still here today is the power of art,” Fornelli said. “If it had no meaning, it would have disappeared with everything else.”

-Paul Tadalan

The print version of my article.


I’ve been realizing that living in a digital age ran by social media has correlated with a decline of independent thought. We consistently quote songs and excerpt literature that has either moved us or interpreted a feeling we couldn’t express ourselves. In turn, its perceived as justified only because its taken from a source that is either popular, or at least accessible, to the general public to be validated credible.  Ralph Waldo Emerson, one of my favorite writers, said, “I hate quotations. Tell me what you know.” I’m not boycotting being inspired by others, but more so- Rather than fit our lives into someone else’s recycled perceptions – “Oh wow those words of (insert quote here) really represent me ,”  Why not challenge ourselves to–be–the inspiration that represents ourselves? Can we connect with each other through our own creative, independent thought?  I feel we all have ideas that are just as inspiring, moving, and -real- as that of anyone else, regardless of how many people hear it. You just have to take the step forward and let it be heard.  So  I’ve decided to start a collection of my own “isms,” the things I’ve come to learn, live, and stand by throughout the years. 

#1. The military is made up of a select group of  individuals who put their lives on the line so that others don’t have to. A man will give a dollar to a homeless person in sympathy without even knowing their name…. But a  military member is willing to sacrifice his or her life  for you, already considering  you would  never even know they existed.

For the time being, until i can figure out a way to categorize and collect these “random thoughts,” they will be categorized under “What I know”

This is for anyone who ever ignored the snooze button to beat the morning heat of the open road. For the last available bike at spin class, and the open bench press on chest day.  For the painful stitch in your side, the calluses on your hands…. for the “good sore.”  For the towel you lay on the treadmill display so you have no idea how long you’ve ran, and for the moment you lift it off to see the extra 10 minutes you’ve never had in you before.  To  the new years resolutioners and their commitment which allows them to proudly separate themselves from the incoming pack the following January. For those who put in work in the gym to be stronger on the court, and the distant sight of the finish line at your very first 5K. Your sun salutation. This is for the 5 lb plate you added to the stack when you can finally declare you raised your max… and for eventually hitting it twice.

I don’t write this because  I hold any expert knowledge in the  area of physical fitness. I do a lot of reading, and ask a lot of questions, but I still don’t know much. Nor do I believe myself to be in any type of peak physical condition so that I should hold myself as an example to anyone else.  I write this because I, like yourself, know what it means to take the step forward dedicated to be stronger, run faster, jump higher, feel healthier, and live better. I write this with hope that, there is at least one person who can relate when I say I understand what it feels to anxiously watch the clock pass, waiting until my daily obligations are fulfilled in order to get to the gym, and the way the mind makes you perceive yourself to becoming weaker just because your hectic schedule doesn’t allow you to go to the gym for three days. Similar to so many others, physical training– just like writing–  has become over the years an outlet from external stressors, broken relationships, and demanding obligations; a form of therapy that has taught me much discipline in other aspects of my life along with valuable lessons I continue to learn.

I write this with nostalgic remembrance  to the people I have crossed paths with in every weight room I’ve set foot in, who took the time to assist me and provide advice when asked… I hope that one day i can attain such in-depth  knowledge so that I may justifiably provide it to others.  And finally, I write this in dedication to my friends; who constantly tell me stories of their own training, their own accomplishments… for their dedication is my inspiration. For just as a spotter is there mentally as he is there physically, and how the presence of a running partner psychologically pushes you harder, these people in my life have constantly served as a mental spot to me.. in– as well as out– of the gym.

The gym.

Excuse me for being a bit fanciful, but the I consider the environment of the gym to be  analagous to life itself… it’s facilities and resources- a reality that is offered equally  to its patrons. Much like life, every individual is there for their own reasons, with their own goals, drives, their own ways of handling that same reality. There’s a thriving sense of community with a unique culture based on respect for one another  just for being there in the first place.  The gym is one of the few places where your achievements are not belittled–nor is your individuality judged– by the color of your skin, your age, sexual orientation, or how much money you make. It’s where language barriers are easily hurdled by understanding the universal gesture of- “Hey, would you mind giving me a spot?”


When I joined the military at 18 years old. I was 155 pounds, and barely spent any time in a weight room.  A deployment to Kirkuk Air Base in Iraq would transition “barely spent any time” to “spending every available moment” in the gym. There’s very few things that pass the time sufficiently enough without losing your sanity, and the gym became a place to spend many nights relieving my mind from the stress of being away from the people closest to me, and  from all you could imagine which accompanies the time being down range. Any military member who has spent time overseas can understand the commitment for self improvement and the psychological benefits of physical training. Initially, I could barely press anything over a hundred pounds. But from that point on, just as a runner craves the endorphins released during “the high,”  I became physically and emotionally dependent to the weight room; a palce that even for just a brief moment of the day, became a type of sanctuary away from the pressures of life.

So, I began doing a lot of research, asked a lot of advice, and observed. I believe my experiences are not much different than many others…I too have asked the age old question- “How do you burn fat and build muscle?” That of which the answer entails the complexity of conflicting requirements. I have also wondered what a complex carbohydrate was, what are good supplements,  imagined – only imagined-  what it would be like to juice,  learned the hard way by injury  the fundamental need of good form,  and my favorite-… the aromatic consequence of not immediately washing a shaker cup.

The body.

It’s quite amazing what the human body is capable of. In an ever changing world that continues to place a rising value on the development of technology, I believe technology only supplies a restricited, artificial model that ignores how we can truly act, interact, and create in our environment. So, in the hypothetical sense that if all technology comes to an end, we are only left with the bare essentials; That being our bodies and natural ability. “Natural ability” not  referring to the intrinsic characteristics brought by heredity, but more so our bodies ability to “perform in nature.”

There’s a world out there just waiting for us to step away from our daily routines, so that we may experience all that it has to offer. So we hike, surf, explore,  skate, rock climb, scuba dive… and simply “play”. Physical training allows us to develop our level of physicality so that we can optimally work and “play” in whatever way that caters to our individual needs of excitement and pleasure.

Yet, As some of us may strive for goals that are in part focused on the aesthetics of physique, I am reminded of a scene in one of my favorite films, “Fight Club,” when on a city bus, Norton and Pitt observe a Calvin Klein advertisement consisting of the defined torso of an underwear model, and Edward Norton sarchastically asks, “Is that what a ‘real man’  is supposed to look like?”  And with respect to conflicting views that  may arise to mine, I believe that we should begin by being content and happy with our bodies, and strive not for visual improvement  for the pleasure of others, but improvement of overall health and ability for the sake of ourselves. And only ourselves. Superficial change should not be a sole purpose, but only a result,  dependent when you commit yourself to a regimen. Because when all we focus on is how we look, we will only be discouraged by the lack of expected results, rather than encouraged by the small continual goals we achieve by persistance.  And always enjoying ourselves. Enjoyment allows freedom. Freedom is peace.

On Eating.

At the present moment, although I used to, I don’t count carbs, ensure a specific level of caloric intake, keep attention to detail my sugars, sodium, fats, etc. More so, my eating habits can best be explained by an analogy I once heard.  The things you consume is like fuel for a car. The better the fuel, the better your motor performs. The more  fuel you put in it, the longer you drive. But when you use bad fuel, and although the motor is still able to run, the waste that doesnt get processed compiles up and reduces the motor’s efficiency. That being said, in relationship to the body and eating, and motor and fuel, The stronger the motor works, the more fuel it burns.”Strength of the motor” not being the actual level of strength, but the  level of exertion relative to your body.

So you HAVE to push yourself  past your comfort zone in order to produce results. If you stay in one comfort zone, regardless of your level of strength, your body becomes complacent and having to work less, burning less. Because “A v 12 engine will burn more fuel than a 2 cylinder Daewoo when both are working at their peak, but yet- A v12 engine  going 5 mph will burn less fuel than a 3 cylinder Daewoo redlining at well, 50?”  It’s still redlining regardless.

I’ve experimented with dieting and eating plans, but I don’t have the discipline; and I highly respect anyone who does. I love food. I eat a slice of pizza if its there, and enjoy a nice cold beer when the occasion presents itself. Matter of fact, I actually wrote part of this post while indulging in a plate of “554.”(above) BBQ pork over rice, for those of you who are not Chicago natives or have never experienced the pleasure of Seven Treasures in Chinatown. Seriously. But I pay for it in the gym.

On Motivation.

Today, most of my motivation does not derive from observing the  people putting up extraordinary amounts of weight, nor is it the centerfold poster of Arnold Schwarzenegger in his prime during the 70′s I used to carry around in my military duffel when I was 19. My motivation comes from the people who choose to use there bodies to there highest potential, not taking for granted the opportunity to learn more about themselves through physical experience, never settling for failure in the face of a challenge.

Much like a particular man I consider to be a regular at the gym I presently go to; he’s no older than 40, and he has lived the majority of his life in a wheel chair due to his legs having never developed past the size of a 12 year old. But he’s still in the gym, sweating it out like everyone else, being grateful for what he is still capable of despite a handicap. That alone speaks volumes of character; his refusal to be restricted due to lacking the standard physicality completely undermines any  perceived  standard of what it takes to live happily active. He’s the epitome of how the only limitations are those we set for ourselves and no one else can ever determine what we are not able to do.  So If he’s in the gym, I have no reason not to be.  For that very reason, as my fiance likes to tease me, I’ll be at the ripe old age of 70, still in the gym with a sweatband and an oversized T-shirt saying, “#1 Gramps.”

I can only hope for whoever takes the chance to read this, there is at least one person who can relate to my experiences and shares my mentality towards physical training. Ive come to realize there’s a defining moment that occurs precisely at the end of a run when you finally catch your breath; the moment when a  mental “click” occurs that tells you that you can still keep going, or the moment approaching the brink of muscle failure while lifting, and you contemplate either racking the weight or pushing out one more. And that same moment happens at the end of an long day when you consider taking a day off from your workout schedule, or  considering not losing the hour of sleep when the alarm goes off in the morning telling you to head to yoga class. At this precise moment, the mind balances out numerous factors, assessing the body, manifesting excuses, inclined to put it off for another day.  So I can only hope, how others have motivated me throughout the years, this post will motivate them when this precise moment occurs; that at least one person will dig deep to push themselves past the limits, proudly experiencing how personal satisfaction outweighs succumbing to whatever excuses there are to not put forth the effort. And that’s not just in training, that applies to life itself. When we are constantly underestimated by others, what good is it to underestimate ourselves?  So when the option is presented  to either stop or keep going, (or to even go at all), see what happens when you choose the latter and tell yourself that it’s just a little time out of the day… just a few laps in the pool… just an hour of yoga… Just a bit longer… Just a bit farther…. Just five pounds more… Just one more set…

…Just one more rep.

You might surprise yourself.