I'll spare you the details...

but, I'm at the point now with my pushups that I'm doing 200 every other day. I do fifty straight, then work my way up to one hundred in tens and fives, without ever taking my hands or feet of the floor (though I can raise or lower my hips to stretch my pecs). Then I stand up and cool off a little while. Then it's time for another 40 straight, followed by alternating sets of decline and incline pushups (though my declines are more like semi-handstand pushups, wherein I bend at the waist, basically like an A without a cross-bar). The idea is, of course, to train the whole pectoral/triceps muscle area, not simply concentrate on the particular muscles for doing-lots-of-pushups. All of this takes me 13-15 minutes.

My buddy, Craig, who's joined me in this escapade, said the hardest thing about it, "besides the searing pain" (haha!), is the time spent. I told a few days ago 200 would probably take me ten minutes, whereupon he asked, "What are they feeding you over there?" Monday night, I timed myself and it turned out 200 took me about 15 minutes. Tonight, I told him this, and then 20 minutes later, I emailed him again that I had just done 200 in 14 minutes. He replied: "You frighten me." Eh, it's a living. Ultimately, the goal is to do 200 pushups straight. From there, I hope to do at least a hundred semi-handstands within that set. And then, like cresting Everest, I aim to do multiple handstand pushups.

In less somatic news, I've taken up reading Butler's Lives of the Saints! Since becoming a Catholic, as the name "Butler" kept brushing my ears, it's become a desire of mine to learn more. Well, due to a sudden windfall of books, I have all four volumes on my bookshelves! Each day features a handful of saints, sometimes at great length, sometimes very briefly. It's an annual reading plan. I began May 22 and hope to keep going all the way till next May 21. It may be a project I undertake every year or every few years. I just love portioned reading programs.

Indeed, not only am I wading through Butler's Saints, but I also came across two handy booklets: a daily Catholic Bible reading plan (1-, 2- or 3-year plans) and a guide for reading the Catechism throughout the liturgical year. These things are probably on the Net somewhere, but I love having them in my bag wherever I go. Between these three august undertakings and slogging (pleasurably, make no mistake!) George Weigel's biography of dear John Paul II, I wonder how I could read anything else.

Tomorrow is Ascension Thursday. I hope to go to Mass (oh, it's so early) and then afterward to start day 1 at my neeeeewww job! That's right, it's all but signed and sealed that I'll be working at All People Publishing, beginning full time July 17. I'll be an editor, writer and recorded voice for their English magazine (GEPT preparation). It's so liberating at work right now to know the squabbles and "history" I face at Viator are not my destiny. I am free to go and I shall move on. The melodrama and navel-gazing that once churned up my ulcer now only wins a peaceful, knowing smile from me. One more month. Just one more month. (I love my students and will always miss them; but teaching is, sadly, only, perhaps, 50% student time, the rest being office and ego-clash time.)

I have been tired lately, mainly because I've been so busy. (But, I'm convinced, because of my fitness regimen and new "caveman diet" (based largely on this program i.a.), I have not been ill. Praise God!) For example, we (ie., I and some Christian friends) did an evangelism outreach this week for the debut of The Da Vinci Code. I have chosen not to see the movie, not only because that's paying yet more money for asinine blasphemy, but also because I hear it's quite a stinker (how many of the high viewer reviews are dogged DVC fan boys, I wonder?). We did some spiritual surveys, asking people if they'd seen the movie or read the book, why, what they thought, "where they were" spiritually, and then presenting the gospel based on a two-sided "puzzle themed" tract (that, uh, I designed) with additional resources (in English and Chinese) for people to learn more. It was a great time; great to interact with people, great to tell so many of Jesus as life's missing piece!

Finally, it wouldn't be a proper update if I dind't mention the fact that next Thursday evening, at Providence University, I'll be getting confirmed. The Sacrament of Confirmation (as the name suggests), is a strengthening (a con-firming) of the supernatural endowments granted us at once in baptism. It is the sacramental step in which we rise from the waters of baptism as disciples and new heirs, and more radically enter the fray of living, proclaiming and defending the Faith as prophets and princes. Biblically, it is the "baptism of the Holy Spirit" wrought by the laying on of hands (ie., the bishop's). Accordingly, I have been focused on God the Holy Spirit for several weeks now and hope to meet this sacrament during a ten-day devotion to Him, which I will begin tomorrow.

I could mention other plans and goings-on, but enough is enough for now. Good night!

愛爾蘭

Once was a Cat'lic from Seattle
who flew to Ireland not to prattle
Nay, he stood against a grinning knave
who with a silly Wiccan Code
young souls in ign'rance dared t'enslave

That'll do, blog, that'll do.

Some of you might be glad to know...

this vision of earthly heaven is now my PC desktop.



Das Keyboard. Be the geek.

As Fakespeare once said...

"Apathy is a powerful motivator."

Think on it.

Another stupid challenge

Some kids filled their high school days with booze, sex and general dissipation. I, by contrast, spent my time with food, sports, church and very specific dissipation. For example, once before a race at a regatta (I did crew), my friend Isaac and I decided to eat as many orange halves as we could... but in a particular way. Bite down lightly on the fruit at the peel line, press the fruit hard against our teeth and then suck all the juice out until we had no more breath. Then repeat. Meanwhile, by the way, we were sitting atop a boat trailer, legs a'dangling and orange juice a'dripping. I don't remember who won that contest, but I do think we won the race.

Then there was the time Isaac and I had a water drinking contest. Glass after glass after glass of water from his fridge, and one hour later, until we were writhing and squealing and laughing in his garage. (The pain of laughing at each other in pain made for a nasty little spiral effect.) A year later, this time with precisely measured refills, and two more classmates to join us, we did it again. Bharat made it to a 1/4 gallon (2 lbs.) before stopping. Matt made it to half a gallon before vomiting in the tolet and emerging with what I can only describe as a beatific mien. Isaac and I, the true Hydrolympians, made it to one full gallon of water in about 45 minutes. In both events, our final and just reward was spending the whole night either standing over the toilet to percolate, or walking back and forth from it, or thinking about it between vain attempts at sleep. Hurrah to youth well spent!

Then there was the time I, Matt and Isaac planned to do 200 pushups a night. Not non-stop; but we had to keep our hands and feet on the floor. Eventually we made it doing 100 straight and then fighting our way up in decreasing bursts.

And then we graduated and 8 years passed. I find my self in Taiwan. Isaac is in Florida studying agronomy. Matt is in the same state working. Craig (who was our stroke my junior and senior year of crew, and every bit a part of our fitness mania) is in Vermont getting a PhD in biology. For the past few months, I've been getting back into fitness via a number of martial arts, self-defense materials and nutrition books. But how about the other guys?

And then it hit me.

We form a pact again.

The goal: be doing 200 hundred pushups a day (or night) by June 1. (CORRECTION: This is the primary goal, but along with it I aim to be doing three sets of 20 solid, technically sound pull-ups -- not chin-ups! -- by the same time.)

So far I've only heard from Craig: "If ever there was a need for an intervention for Elliot, now is the time. ... I'm in."

Amen.

I've decided to keep y'all posted on this little mania, not only because such enhances one's "theletic stamina", but also because, shoot, it might be fun for you to watch.

I came upon the idea last Saturday night over dinner, being nostalgic of course, and within hours I had sent the emails. That very night I did 100 pushups, albeit only 50 straight, followed by a series of, as I say, decreasing bursts. Sunday was the Lord's Day, so I took a rest. Monday I did another 100, this time only doing 40 straight and then fighting my way all the way up. Tuesday I was exhausted and rather inadvertently fell asleep on my floor for a stunning 10 hours of sleep.

Tonight, however, I got back on the horse. 60 straight, followed by 41 more in bursts. Then I went out for a bowl of "fruit ice" (a real Taiwan delight, a large bowl of shaved ice with a heap of fresh fruit and syrup on top), came back home and did 40 more straight.

Once this goal -- which I might add is meant to be a short term pact to maintain a long term practice -- is accomplished, the next target is to use the infamous exercise wheel from standing (not from kneeling) and to do X number of handstand pushups (hard as tungsten, I tell you!). As a sort of water marker, and as a sort of check on any hubristic illusions I may ever dare to entertain, I commit you to the truly awesome Ross Enamait. (Not that this beastly young chap is anything to sneeze at either!)

There is one final twist that makes this little saga more intriguing, for me at least.

A couple weeks ago I was in the shoe store to buy some light, thin shoes for taiji practice. The clerk showed me Nike's specially made gong fu shoes, which I bought. In the same trip, I purchased a gyroscopic wrist exerciser (not this brand, but similar, and much cheaper) and have enjoyed it ever since. Well, that is, until I showed it to my taiji coach.

When he saw it, he seemed nonplussed. "Does this make your wrist use force?" he asked.

"Well, yes," I asked, now on uncertain ground. Is force bad?

"Oh, you can't use this," he replied immediately. "Taiji is all about being relaxed," he continued.

"Oh, I see," I muttered, though I really didn't see. "Well, what about pull-ups?" I asked, mindful of my fitness pact with old friends.

"Oh that you must completely not do," he replied just as promptly. "That kind of exercise makes you too tense, too forceful. In taiji, the looser, the better."

"Uh, right, well what about pushups?" I asked, now putting my throat to the blade.

"No way," he said.

So I've hit an ideological wall. In taiji, force is, allegedly, bad. But in my own fitness interests, force is a necessity. Suffice to say I am politely ignoring my coach's warnings at least until June 1. I'm inclined to see a "higher synthesis" in taiji's dualist Daoist roots. Why not make my fitness regimen the yang to the yin of my taiji? Hurrah to slipshod syncretistic fitness!

Stay tuned.

[May 6 100, May 7 N/A, May 8 100, May 9 N/A, May 10 101 + 40....]

Wow, I suck

I was at taiji last night and it hit me, "Taiji is the hardest thing I've ever done."

We were practicing the "repulse monkey" sequence (of the short yang form, which I practice) and I was constantly frustrated. Turn your waist, but don't move your head offline from your navel. Bring your hand up back behind you, but don't be stiff; let it swoop up gracefully. At the same time, turn your left palm down. Then, as you return with your right hand, stop it close to your head, meanwhile turning your left palm up in time. Then step back with your left foot. Oh, and don't forget to step with your heel slightly out, so it ends up being straight. Then push your right hand forward and bring your left hand back and down in fluid time. Finally, lock your hips in square, forward, which draws your slightly everted right foot in parallel with your straight rear left foot. Also, make sure your right hand is not too high or low and it not bent too much in to the body, but not extended too far from it either. And then do the same thing, basically twice more, once to the left and then to the right.

And that's just one of about thirty sequences in just the SHORT Yang form.

Shoot me with a harpoon! If I didn't forget to turn my palm down, I forgot to hold my head in line. If I didn't forget to turn my palm up, I forgot to stop at my head. If I didn't forget to stop at my head, I forgot to step back with my heel out. And on and on and on.

Add to all this extremely subtle coordination the need to keep your weight shifted on the correct leg, knees bent, etc. Try holding a repulse monkey for thirty seconds, and then try drilling the steps for it in such a bent-knee position. It's unrelenting, solid isometric work.

"Taiji is the hardest thing I've ever done."

Keep in mind I did rowing for six years in middle- and high-school. And, I'm sure, at the time, I said, "Rowing is the hardest thing I've ever done." And, on balance, it really probably was. Once I step outside my maladroit frustration at practice and look at things "objectively," I realize rowing, with its amazing combination of sheer physical exertion and crucially fine technique, is the most difficult thing I've ever done.

but even so, taiji is the most difficult thing I've ever done in one different key respect: basically, doing it well is all no my own shoulders. In a rowing shell, your decision to "relax" or move poorly is felt immediately by everyone else. The baot suffers if you suck, or if you choose not to apply your training. But in taiji, except for the coach watching youa t times, and then perhaps stepping in to correctyou, doing each move well depends on you alone, as you practice "one on one" with your own body. It's not mentally draining, but it is also not something you can just "fall into," at least as a benginner.

Taiji is hard not primarily because of its isometric demands, or because of its demands for sturdy balance, but because it is so easy to feel, at a moment's notice, just how bad at it you are. It is very Daoist, in this repstct, because it is very humbling.

How well do you know your body? How well can you control your body, whether in motion or in a balanced poise? Taiji will show you. And so far, it's shown me that I am quite out of touch with my body's "gyroscopic"[1] energy. But I shall persist! Incidentally, I've decided to switch to judo once a week and taiji thrice a week, with possible long classes on some Saturdays. I have thirteen more months to study taiji in its heartland. God be with me.

[1] Gyroscopes work, if I'm not mistaken, on the principle of lateral circular momentum (or whatever a real physicist might call it). As a wheel spins, it actually sends energy out to the side. Thus, circular motion creates a lateral vector that keeps a spinning wheel in balance, literally gyrating between its "competing" lateral spin and its median energy. In your body, though there are no real gyroscopes, there is tendency for muscles to divert away from resistance. So, for example, when you balance back on one knee with the other leg planted forward, your rear leg muscles tend to drift inward or outward to reduce the median "spin" being applied to your leg. The muscular spin is created by the tension between gravity and your leg's resistance. I love kinesiology.