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Working Hard
Posted 17 years agoJust some FYI for all you furs out there who might be interested in what I lift.
Today's workout (monday is my light day)
Clean and press with 25kg barbell x 5
Kettlebell swings with a 24kg kettlebell x 30
Repeat routine 4 times. Then go lie down ;)
A short but sweet start to the week. It might not look like much but if you total up the reps I end up doing 120 kettlebell swings and lift a total of 500kgs with the clean and press.
My goal is eventually to be able to repeat the above routine 10 times in 30 mins.
Today's workout (monday is my light day)
Clean and press with 25kg barbell x 5
Kettlebell swings with a 24kg kettlebell x 30
Repeat routine 4 times. Then go lie down ;)
A short but sweet start to the week. It might not look like much but if you total up the reps I end up doing 120 kettlebell swings and lift a total of 500kgs with the clean and press.
My goal is eventually to be able to repeat the above routine 10 times in 30 mins.
Poem
Posted 17 years agoI think the creek I live near wants to die
It's an eustuarine creek, fed by both fresh and seawater that threads it's way though surburbia. Constrained on both sides by houses and yards, it catchment has been paved under and it's flow maintained artificially
I think it wants to die.
I think it's tired of allowing pollutants into the bay. Tired of the constant noise from motorboats. Tired of not being allowed to flow as it wants.
I think it wants to die
It wants to allow the silt to build up. For the water flow to slow, then stop. To feel it's waters drain away. It wants the animals to find somewhere better, more deserving, more alive for which to make their home.
It wants to die and then be reborn in the rain.
It wants to carve a new watercourse over houses and down streets. It wants to be able to move again, like a snake, ever shifting it's banks. Never the same. It wants to be able to rage, to be calm, to be everything in between.
It wants to feel life return as it creates new soils with each flooding. To feel trees drink deep of it's waters and then share it with the sky. To watch the young nursing in their hidden places. To carry the old to their final resting place.
It wants to be alive.
It's an eustuarine creek, fed by both fresh and seawater that threads it's way though surburbia. Constrained on both sides by houses and yards, it catchment has been paved under and it's flow maintained artificially
I think it wants to die.
I think it's tired of allowing pollutants into the bay. Tired of the constant noise from motorboats. Tired of not being allowed to flow as it wants.
I think it wants to die
It wants to allow the silt to build up. For the water flow to slow, then stop. To feel it's waters drain away. It wants the animals to find somewhere better, more deserving, more alive for which to make their home.
It wants to die and then be reborn in the rain.
It wants to carve a new watercourse over houses and down streets. It wants to be able to move again, like a snake, ever shifting it's banks. Never the same. It wants to be able to rage, to be calm, to be everything in between.
It wants to feel life return as it creates new soils with each flooding. To feel trees drink deep of it's waters and then share it with the sky. To watch the young nursing in their hidden places. To carry the old to their final resting place.
It wants to be alive.
On writing
Posted 17 years agoIt's funny. But it seems that sometimes story's can take on a life of their own.
I just started writing a piece that I intended to be a hot bit of man on man action. Just two naked guys doing what they do best. Muscles tensing, cocks straining for relief. A brief moment when two bodies become intertwined before an ecstatic release.
Yet all of a sudden I found that I was writing a different kind of story altogether. Sure the sex element is still there, but so is something else. An adventure in the making. A chance encounter leading two warriors headlong into a dangerous adventure. A story of love, of pain, of loss.
Sometimes it seems stories want to be told through us. So we should let them.
Woof!
I just started writing a piece that I intended to be a hot bit of man on man action. Just two naked guys doing what they do best. Muscles tensing, cocks straining for relief. A brief moment when two bodies become intertwined before an ecstatic release.
Yet all of a sudden I found that I was writing a different kind of story altogether. Sure the sex element is still there, but so is something else. An adventure in the making. A chance encounter leading two warriors headlong into a dangerous adventure. A story of love, of pain, of loss.
Sometimes it seems stories want to be told through us. So we should let them.
Woof!
