#Im not that sore and I still have energy after running a mile and an 800

[corals-corner]

First track meet of the season for me and I am feeling good which is a bad thing apparently

[fit-as-fxck]

knock knock

who’s there?

Monday, bitch, lets go.

My body is doing a great job of recovery from the soreness inflicted last week. I originally planned on doing a conditioning day Saturday but my first week of training hit me super hard, and I think I needed the recovery. I would like to give myself a gold star for fighting through a panic attack. It’s been almost four years since one. It’s terrible, your skin begins to crawl and you just want to climb out of it, you can’t breathe, can’t control your lungs, your head can’t calm you down, you shake and the last thing you want to do is keep on living because it all seems so hard. Like someone dropped you in a pit of despair and forgot to pull you out. Like everything is black and you can’t see even the next 5 minutes in front of you. Life never came with a user manual. You gotta keep on keeping on. You always got this. You can always carry on. You can always carry on. I never claimed to be perfect and I think more people suffer with things than they would like to admit. But we all keep moving forward. Because you can ALWAYS find a way to keep moving forward. Perhaps maybe the people who struggle are stronger because, they know how to get through it all.

My system felt pretty shot after that and took the weekend to recuperate and I’m glad I did. Today starts training with a new partner. I’m using this week to asses where he is and then we’ll go from there based on his goals. He’s not “out of shape” in the usual sense but he does have some lofty goals which I will keep under wraps for the sake of privacy until he is ready to share and things more concrete. I did a little research on the requirements he will need for his goal, and what I’ve deduced is that he needs a good strength to weight ratio. He needs to reach a much better cardio endurance level than the average person, strong shoulders, back and overall fitness level. It’s going to be hard. But completely possible through correct tactics, strategy and SMART hard work. I do believe strength training 4 days a week and conditioning training every single day will get him there. But for now we’ll see where he is on the fitness scale. I’ll be taking him through my daily training this week and get feedback from him.

I mentioned last week that it was very difficult having my HEAVY days back to back so I’ll be splitting them up this week. I’m starting with a heavy lower body day today and then an upper endurance day tomorrrow, then heavy upper body, then lower endurance - unless he objects and wants to start with a different one. Today will be exceedingly heavy for me considering all the rest i got over the weekend. I’m still hammering down form and technique, and will definitely be focusing on that if I’m taking someone through it with me.

I’m starting him out with a mile run to warm up. Then we move onto my warmup mobility work. A couple warm up sets of deadlifts, just to get it going. Then we move onto working sets. I start out with deadlifts because they are usually the most taxing compound movement. Then squats. Now, squatting and deadlifting is best done with a flat shoe that doesn’t provide bounce like a running shoe and provides good solid connection to the floor. So a change of shoes may be needed. I know, high maintenance but what are you gonna do. I’ve found I like to switch to chucks, and recently tried squatting barefoot in socks which I like. Don’t judge. Im going to be taking him through proper form and technique (leg placement, hand placement, high bar vs low bar, cues like 1. bend the bar = keeping kinetic energy from the lats to the glutes to support the bar almost like you’re doing a lat pull down, retracted scapula 2. Belly breath and draw ribs down. Inflate/ increase intrabdonminal pressure, activate and push outwards through obliques, queuing deep spinal stabilization 3. Spread the floor - solid footing 4. Sit back - break at the knees and hips simultaneously. Now, his goals may not be the same as mine, but I need to at least see if he has the basic compound lifts down. He could probably cut out a lot of the “fluff” I do, and not do as many assessory movements as me. Mentally, he seems ready to really test what he’s made of. He seems so focused and he’s ready to sprint out of the gate. I’m excited to see where he’s really at and move from there. We can start the squats with some drills to make sure he has technique down.

We will be ending the session with stretches.

Deadlifting cues:

Mid foot under barbell

Hold arms overhead, draw shoulder blades back, activate lats and back.

Pull arms down and shoulder width grip the bar

Bend knees

Chest up, brace core, straight back, hips not too far down or up

Stand

Squat cues:

Draw ribs down

Inflate obliques

Bend the bar

Twist feet into floor/spread the floor

Sit back

The rest of the workout looks like:

Stiff dead’s or RDL’s

Hip thrust

Hamstring curl

Leg press

Good mornings

Back extensions

Hanging leg raises

[tracelcss-archived-blog]

(I don’t think we can just tell him…) (What else are we supposed to do? He’s going to figure it out eventually.) (He’ll be so heartbroken…) (He needs to know.)

He wakes from the state of inertia with a jerk, panicked, finding it hard to breath, searching around for something- anything- that would give him clue as to where he was and why he was there. The soreness in his muscles and bones blinded him for a moment, making him double over with hands on his torso with a heady groan. His head ached — had something hit him? Most likely. He must’ve been out for a while. The cuts he remembers from climbing the barbed wire fence had healed over. A few days, maybe? They weren’t deep…

Tobias had peered around the room, once he had deduced the time he spent asleep. With a wave of comfort, he realizes it’s his captain’s quarters — the small portside window shines morning light into the room, the rickety bed under Tobias’ hands is still threadbare and moth=bitten and it still reeks of gunpowder and cigarettes.

Ah. But Malcolm wasn’t here. Strange. Did he not suffer any injuries in this heist? After all, it was his stupid idea to try and rob one of the esteemed Priggs vaults in Zaun. Tobias’ fingers run over the rough bedsheets, slightly resentful that they were only warm where Tobias had been resting. Did Graves also just not sleep in their room? Tobias knows he can snore sometimes, but this was ridiculous. He slides to the edge of the mattress and stands, taking a moment to let his legs remember how to be legs again. Pins and needles are slowly replaced by tissue and bone, and Tobias reaches his hands over his head to let his body crack in the satisfaction of being awake. He walks to the door of the captain’s quarters, rolling his arms and neck. He’s in the middle of massaging a knot out of his shoulder when he opens the door where Kolt and Wallach are sitting, whispering to themselves, looking harried. Their dark eyes turn to him, and while it’s not uncommon for Wallach to look nervous and flighty, the downright stricken expression on Kolt’s face hits Tobias like a cold shower.

“Tobias— ah, I mean,” Wallach sits straight, pushing his curly hair away back behind his ear. He won’t look at Tobias. “Captain.”

Another cold flash. Something’s definitely wrong. Numb from the overhanging anxiety between the trio, Tobias leans back on the doorway. Wallach may not be able to meet Tobias’ eyes, but Kolt still has no trouble. But instead of a challenging sneer or grin, she’s somber; grim as a gull in June.

Careful and collected as always, Tobias simply laughs; if something’s the matter, he’s gotta stay calm for them.

“Captain?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at the twins. “Now I know somethin’s up when Wallach calls me captain and Kolt won’t correct him.”

He crosses his arms as Kolt and Wallach exchange glances; Wallach is fidgeting so bad Tobias is almost sure he’s full of wharfhoppers. Kolt looks downright pained.

“Listen, Foxtrot,” Kolt starts, turning her hard gaze back to Tobias. Discomfort squirms in his stomach as the creases of her frown deepen. “We’ve… got to talk about the heist.”

“Yeah, we do.” Tobias says, his laugh bubbling out of nerves now. “Like, why aren’t we celebrating? Where’s the booze? Matter a’fact, where’s the boozer himself?”

“Malcolm?” Wallach perks, and his fright damn near breaks Tobias’ heart. He falters at that, and the way Wallach and Kolt seem to flinch around his name. “He’s, uh—”

“Gone.”

The twins snap their attention upward to the towering figure behind them. They stand up, backing away from the Brick, while the numbness spreads from Tobias’ fingers, up his arms, down his shoulders, through his back…

“Brick, wait, we were going to-”

“He got caught,” Brick says awkwardly, and Tobias does not take in the wringing of his hands. He can’t. He can’t focus. The knot is still in his shoulder. “He’s … they got ‘im in the Locker.”

The crew turns slowly to Tobias, their eyes watching him. The silence in the air makes the waves down in the ocean seem loud, irritatingly so. Tobias tries to swallow, but can’t; tries to speak, but can’t; tries to move but can’t; tries to think but can’t; tries to breath but can’t; tries to seek comfort but can’t, because Malcolm’s gone, Malcolm was caught, and he’s alone in—

“The Locker?” Tobias whispers. His voice sounds like he’s got a mouthful of cotton, and all the eyes on him threaten to burn him alive. He looks away from them, blurry vision sentenced to the deck of the ship, where he cannot see the tremendous terror mounting inside of him that is being reflected by his crewmates’ eyes.

The wood beneath their feet creaks, and he’s sure he can hear them whispering, but nothing makes sense. Malcolm couldn’t have been caught. This is some cruel joke, surely, to get back at Tobias for being so snarky and rude and smarmy. This was payback to him being a smartass. The shaking in his hands is so funny, he supposes, the goddamn panic attack is a big prank.

“Captain?” Wallach steps forward, and the gentleness in his tone is an afront to Tobias’ reeling panic. “Are— are you going to-”

“Don’t call me that,” Tobias says, sounding sleeker and smoother than he is feeling. He swallows around the suffocating tightness in his throat. “I’m not your only captain—”

“But… Graves—”

“–is not staying in that place.”

The commanding tone in Tobias’ words shuts everything down — even the waves seem to quiet. Tobias raises his head, and only now does he realize the four of them are completely out at sea. There is no land. There is no dock. There is no port. Just endless miles of sea. The crew, baffled, searches for something to say.

“The Locker’s never been broken out of before,” says Kolt, ineffectively forcing her voice to not waver. “He’s not goin’ to get out of there just like that.”

Both the fact that Kolt still feels the need to prove him wrong and the fact that she’s right only enflame Tobias’ fear — no one had broken out of the Locker.

But… there’s a first time for everything.

“He won’t be doin’ it alone.” Tobias says coldly. The knot in his shoulder reminds him to stand tall, to raise his chin in defiance. “We’re breakin’ him out.”

The crew looks at him, and for one he does not immediately understand what they are thinking. It seems the Brick’s nervous energy has taken hold of all three crewmates, as told by each fidget they seem to have taken up. Kolt cracks her knuckles, Wallach picks at his cuticles, and the Brick shifts his weight to and from as they just stand around for—

Oh. They’re waiting for an explanation. He’s the captain now. Tobias clears his throat again and nods to his crew.

“Set a course for the nearest port. We’re going to need supplies if we’re going to help Malcolm.”

[drachenreiterwelt-blog]

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