the end of an era

Yes it's true, I'm afraid to say. I'm too busy to maintain heaps and heaps of blogs, so with great sadness I bid a fond farewell to iLoren. You we're always there for me you little ripper. On to bigger and better things then eh. Everything that would have been posted there will now be here yada yada yada. I will still document the unlikely tale of my journey from ignoble slumdog wretch to impossibly fantastic geriatric league guy, until I change my mind and decide to do something else again.

guess what's back? The ever-lovable work out log, for your reading pleasure:

we're in season, it's maintenance time
front squat 100*5
a2g back squat 120*3,2
hang clean 60*5
clean 60*7,70*2 trickier than it looks, and it looks pretty dang tricky

Bonus league update
I curse the heavens. I didn't score again. In other news we won 38-10 against Burleigh. Hurrah.

on gyming it up 5

Plato posited that two worlds exist: the world of being and the world of becoming.[1] The world of being is a place where everything exists in its perfect form. Take a horse for instance, somewhere out there in a place quite unlike this one there is the perfect form of a horse, an undefiled template from which all ‘horseness’ and all instances of horses originate. The world of becoming is our world; here, imperfect instances of Plato’s forms occur. Plato’s was a teleological world-view where the becoming parts were tagged as such because given the right type of conditions an imperfect form could move towards becoming like the perfect form. It turns out that Plato was probably wrong, however, I mention his work here because it helps to illustrate the type of thing that is occurring both in gyms and in the male psyche. There is an ideal form that exists and men now attempt to emulate this ideal.

back squat 60*8,100*5,120*5,130*5,140/3*3
chins 95/3*8

volume: 5770kgs (or 12,694lbs!)


[1] Strathern: The Essential Plato, pp 31-32.

A Special Announcement

The world cup of rugby league begins today. This is marginally considered news in about three places on earth. As a leaguey I have great difficulty in comprehending how Rugby Union has such a tight strangle hold on the worlds-number-one-contact-sport-played-with-an-oval-ball spot. I really do. After all league is more barbaric and therefore more prone, in theory, at least to appeal to our residual brutish caveman instincts. Granted every imaginable form of cheap shot goes on within a rugby ruck, I have been the recipent of friendly uppercuts, well-meaning eye gouges and "sorry I thought your sternum was a trampoline" chest stomps, and that was all in one game, so union does have its own petty violence to bring to the table. But like so many things at the breakdown it's not clear what's going on, the camera is obscured, the refs view also, usually resulting in some inconsistant interpretaion of the rules at best or an incomprehsible gaf at a more frequent rate than you'd like. This is where my attraction to league begins to take hold, it's beautiful in its savage simplicity. You get six tackles to score or get smashed, then you kick the ball away and give the opposition the same oppurtunity. There are a few complex rules, the boundaries and goals are well defined. It's gladitorial and by definition insane, but that's part of the attraction. I'll never forget the rush of the first time, fearing for my life, recieving the ball and being encouraged by my team mates to run it straight as I was pulverised by 5 guys from the other side. You just can't beat that kamakzee moment of self-actualization, believe me you've got to try this sometime. I have a simple equation big hits=better entertainment, and there's no doubt that league trumps union and any other sport in this regard the great majority of the time. It's simple physics really, in league there's 10 meters of space to bulid up momentum to get pummled and in union there's maybe 3 or 4, of course with all the extra space leagues going to produce some absolute knock out hits, you've gotta love it. So, in the end it comes down to the usual macho posturing that you'd expect league is harder so league players must be tougher, I'm a league player, so I must be tough. Aristotle would have been proud.

And now for the special announcement: I'm moving to Aussie next year to play league at the grass roots level, just for fun. Wish me luck.

a to g back squat: 20*40,30*40,40*40
hang snatch: 60*3 (back gave out, called it a day)

volume: 3780kgs

hands

Have you ever tried to power clean with a sprained thumb using a hook grip. I wouldn't recommend the experience. I now have a palm sized blister on my palm. One day it'll probably solidify into a nice callous. My plans for the world's manliest hands are almost complete.

a to g back squat 60*10,115/5*5
hang C&J 60*5
power C&J 70,80,90,100
pull ups (98)/2*10

volume: 6975kgs

the weak that was

The Manly sea eagles down trailed the the Melbourne storm on Sunday, 40 - 0. Embarrassing.

Kimbo got KTFO by a nobody who's name I can neither pronounce nor spell. Kimbo Slice are you kidding me? The big black bearded one didn't even throw a punch, not one punch and was dropped by what's-his-name with a short right while back peddling. That's right the guy was retreating when he sent Kimbo's overblown legend to its room to think about what it had done. Nothing by most accounts. Bas Rutten you oughta be ashamed.

I continue to work out like a geriatric turtle on downers. Slow and steady wins the race. If I keep up this hectic pace of one work out per week when I'm 35, over the hill, and scary looking I could be Kimbo too. Kimbo I shouldn't kick you while your down, but it's just so damn easy. Hmm, we could possibly meet one day right, I take it all back (except the part about how you suck, man I'm getting harsh in my old age).

a 2 g back squat: 20*60 (totally spent), 30*40, 40*10,80*5,90*5,100*5
chins (n-grip) me(97)/2*5

volume: 5120

How (not) to be an All Black 1

The first step: never, ever, acknowledge publicly that you want to be anything, especially not an All-Black.

*misty dreamy flashback*

When I was a child I coined a painfully trite, but entirely appropriate moniker to describe invariably the process by which the universe operates: Oppositely. That's right, Rhonda Byrne has it all wrong, you can have what ever you want in this world as long as you don't tell anyone, in fact all you need to do is behave in a way that seems completely contrary to what common-sense would dictate. The universe will never see you coming and then suddenly, BOOM, you're working 9-5 in an office, just like you never wanted. Astounded? This is only the beginning.

*snap back to reality, oops there goes gravity*

I vow by Saturn's special needs moon, the uncoordinated Hyperion and by the second rate Marvel Character of the same name who gained some notoriety as a Max series protagonist, and by gingos that I will never be an All Black (It's only a matter of time now people).

A to G Back Squat (which got further and further from my but as the weight and reps built up) 40*5, 60*5, 80*5, 120*5, 120*4

hang clean 40*10, 50*10

power C&J 60, 70, 80, 90,100 (only got the clean part up on the final rep)

My Triumphal Return

What started as a 1 week lay off turned into 2 and a bit. Pathetic really. My inner T-Man started getting restless, so today I had to get back into the cave and start pumping iron. During my time away Chuck Liddell was knocked out (that's putting it far too lightly) and the Auckland Warriors, defying all conventional wisdom and forever altering the destiny of the universe, beat the Melbourne Storm. I'm a fair weather fan I'll admit it, but Go the Warriors! And while these wondrous events were transpiring, what pray tell was I doing? I was at home, catabolizing, atrophying. Thank goodness that's over... R.I.P Chuck, you were my favourite, oh, and go the Warriors you're my favourite whenever you're winning.

A to G back Squat 20*30, 40*40, 50*20, 60*12, 70*10, 80*5 wimped out on the last set.

hang clean 60/2*3

Volume: 4680kgs

simple

I went gym. I met a girl. It was good.

arse to grass back squat 100/3*8, 90*5
power CJ 60*3,62.5*3,65*3,67.5*3,70*3

volume: 3825kgs

a rather bland work out

Wherein Loren deliberates over going to the gym - playing Soul Caliber 4 on PS3 as an alternative to working out - vacuuming my house - waking up at 12pm and still being up and about before my flatmate - dark matter is possibly not the largest constituent of the universe - what's worse polyandry or polygamy - forgetting the names of old gym buddies and not letting on - squatting like I live in a third world country

You know what? The overview will do lets skip to the good parts:

arse to grass back squat 40*20, 50*20, 60*20
hang C&J 60/3*3

volume: 3540kgs