This is it.. the LAST Phase of P90X.. As far as I know, I’ve made it further than anyone in any of my social circles with the exception of 1 dude whose name I can’t attach to a face, but apparently he finished the whole program. I’m feeling admittedly exhausted and I needed a lot of drive to get through this week.

Starting weight: 177lbs
After week 9: 157lbs.

Here’s how the week went.

The Workouts:

Day 57:
Chest & Back, Ab Ripper X

Today was my first day back into P90X off of my Recovery Week. In comparison to the first recovery week one month ago, this was a fucking vacation. I was able to relax, gain some clarity, and keep up my focus on my diet. I went into todays workout with a little bit of a cocky attitude. I had been here before, and the workout was familiar. But knowing this was my second last time doing this workout before this project was done, I was very motivated to push myself.

My goal for today was to do all of the pull-ups free form, without any assistance. If I needed to jump down off of the bar, I would. But after breaks I would continue. I also was focused on using weight that would challenge me. I purchased a set of screw on dumbbell weights yesterday and was excited to be able to up my resistance.

One thing that I can say about having purchased the new weights is that it definitely required more time between sets using weights. Having to change the plates was a bit frustrating, but for the price comparison, it makes total sense.

I really pushed myself today, going for more at every turn, and I am very happy with my results. I did a total of 273 push-ups, 45 free form pull-ups and I upped my weight in every weighted exercise. I was really, really tired and got this random feeling of exhaustion and mental breakdown partway through the workout. It was really strange, but I felt entirely depleted both emotionally and physically. But I kept on..

Next up was Ab Ripper X, and I was not planning to take any rest time after Chest & Back to get to it.

Something really foolish told me that this would be a relative breeze. Maybe having done well in it for the last Phase put me in a place where I was confident in my ability to complete it with ease. This was not the case. I needed a lot of breaks, and was in a lot of physical discomfort for many of the exercises. I took so many breaks during Fifer Scissors that I’d guess I completed about 15 reps tops. Pulse Ups were brutal, Hip Rock & Raise was difficult, and even doing the Leg Climb was way harder than the last time I did this workout. The biggest shock for me was the Cross Legged Sit Ups. Having gone from doing the straight leg variation and being able to do the cross legged version, I was sure these wouldn’t be so hard. But holy fuck they were tough to get through. What frustrated me the most about this was that it showed how much relative strength I had lost in my stomach in only a week. True or not? If my stomach was getting stronger, wouldn’t these moves continue to feel routine? Is a week enough time to lose this much strength? I don’t know. I finished Ab Ripper X very strong, completing the whole Mason Twist sequence and I was feeling super jacked when it was all over, but something had me feeling unsure again about my strength.

Maybe its a result of having come off of a recovery week. Maybe its because I just did a workout I hadn’t done in a month. Or maybe I’m just not getting much stronger and I just look a lot better. I guess we’ll find out in a few more weeks.

Stay tuned…

Day 58:
Plyometrics

Getting into today’s workout, I knew not to be brave about the whole thing. If there’s any guarantee in this program, it’s that Plyometrics, at any athletic level, is gonna beat you up. So I was mentally prepared for this to happen.

I got into the workout with confidence through the lunge sequence and the squats, but when the actual tough stuff started coming in, it really started to beat me up. I had to do modified moves a couple of times and felt so gassed during some exercises that I could feel my quads wanting to cave in. When I thought about the whole situation, it occurred to me that it had been 2 weeks since I had last done this workout, so it made sense for it to be difficult. But damn, these guys got this muscle confusion thing down to a science.

One thing I can tell you is that it’s not difficult in the way that it was in the beginning. By any means. There are times when I’m doing some jumps and my fingers hit my ceiling, so I know I can’t be that out of shape. It’s just that my body hasn’t had the chance to grow accustomed to this workout in the same way as it has with Yoga or Kenpo because there are breaks when I don’t do Plyo.

I was a little disappointed in my performance today, but that’s if I compare it to what I’ve been able to do in the past. Overall I did very well, but I’m gonna need to get back to my old form if I plan on feeling a good level of accomplishment by the end of this Phase.

Day 59:
Shoulders & Arms, Ab Ripper X

I’m always really stoked about this workout. Something about it makes me feel like I’ve put in a lot of work and have something to show. That’s sort of the thing with these resistance workouts in the program. You only really do 2 in the week for your upper body, so when you do them it’s refreshing in an old school, working out in your room, kinda way. You feel ripped and you feel tired and you look like you’ve worked your ass off, and that’s the kind of thing dudes sometimes need to feel like their workouts are doing something. Let’s face it, the visible results after doing Yoga X aren’t comparable even though it makes you feel like a trillion bucks.

Anyways.. part of my excitement today was about the fact that I had more weight to play around with and I’d be able to push myself even further. And I did this today. On the exercises that required a set amount of reps, I did as much weight as I could do with a level of discomfort on the last 3-4 reps. On the exercises that didn’t require a set amount of reps, I pushed for a weight that would allow me to struggle through 8-10 reps. My goal now is to gain a little size back and higher weight / lower reps is the key to that.

I’m really happy with my results from today, and I’m thinking that I may need to grab some more weight soon so that I can really push on my last Shoulders & Arms workout. Strangely, as good as I was doing, I got the same feeling I had a couple of days ago with the exhaustion and emotional breakdown. It felt like I was so tired that I crumbled to my knees, with my hands on my face and I needed to cry. It was really strange. My body is really, really, really tired from these workouts, and not having more than 1 day rest is seeming to wear on my mental and emotional just as much as it’s working on my physical. It’s really tough. And I’m not sure about how these next 4 weeks are gonna be.

Next was Ab Ripper X, and since Monday was a bullshit run through it, I was determined but feeling shaky.

Something that I forgot was that after doing leg workouts like Plyo or Legs & Back, doing A.R.X. is really hard. Because you’re required to hold your legs up and do pulse ups, etc, the strength and endurance in your legs is really important. And today I was reminded of that.

Once again I struggled through this workout. Bicycles was tough, but I actually made it all the way through Crunchy Frog (something that doesn’t usually happen). Hip Rock & Raise was okay, but I had a LOT of trouble with Pulse-Ups. Fifer Scissors, as usual, was difficult as shit, I did the straight leg version of the Straight Leg/Cross Leg Sit-Ups, I got through V-Up Roll Ups, struggled bad through Oblique V-Ups, and made it through the Leg Climb and Mason Twist no problem.

This is really getting frustrating. You would think by now that I’d have a good enough handle on this workout to do it with ease, but for some reason I can’t. I felt really, really exhausted and on a couple of occasions today, felt like I was gonna throw up. I’m working really hard but I feel like I need something to help me get passed this last month. It’s getting very difficult.

Day 60:
Yoga X

Today marks the 60 Day point in my P90X project. Whoopty freakin Do. I did my workout really late because I had meetings today, so I didn’t get started until about 10pm.

Honestly, today’s Yoga X DVD was BORING AS FUCCCCCKKKKKKKK!!! Holy shit. I noticed right from the jump that I wasn’t sweating or laboring as early as I’ve been used to and I was unsure if this was because I wasn’t working myself hard enough, if it was because there was a cool breeze coming in through my window, or if it was because I’m really getting used to this DVD. Then by the time I got to arguably the hardest part of the workout where you reach your arm underneath your leg while in a deep side lunge and clasp your other hand behind your back while looking up, and it felt like it went by super fast, I knew that I was just bored and used to it.

I mean, you guys have seen my past posts about this workout. I love it. But today just really shocked me. I found myself thinking about Ideall Fall/Winter 09 and Spring/Summer ‘10 products and randomly coming up with graphics and design techniques. I was just not into this at all. I pushed really hard during Yoga Belly 7, which was nice, but still, nothing excited me about today’s workout.

I noticed that my leg was still messed up from my last Yoga workout where I strained my calf, so I skipped through the sequence after Warrior 3, and also through the Standing Leg Extensions. I didn’t want to injure myself this close to the end.

So much for feeling relief during Yoga. My mind just wasn’t in that space today..

Day 61:
Legs & Back, Ab Ripper X

I fucking hate this Legs & Back routine. Today I went for sushi with Stace and I think I have an allergy to shrimp because I started getting really woozy and ended up crashing for 3 hours at around 6. I got up, still really tired and knew I had to do this god forsaken workout and I was not happy.

My goal today was do all the pull-ups freeform. That’s my goal for the rest of this Phase actually. No more assistance from the stool. Just straight pull-ups.

This workout starts with Chair Lunges – which I hate – and today’s feeling of hatred didn’t change. It’s uncomfortable and I keep my foot on a wood table that just creeks and squeaks when I move, so it’s also annoying. I mean, I got through them okay, but it’s just a shitty way for your workout to start.

I ended up really pushing myself today in form and in controlling my movements and I noticed that my legs were very Jello-ish on a few of the moves. I even lost my balance a couple of times. lol. It’s weird, when you have your work sheets to tell you what you’ve done and what you’ve been able to do in the past, it’s easier to progress and push yourself to do more the next time around. But doing more just keeps you in that state of discomfort and controlled struggling. Today was a perfect example of that. I was really like a baby goat out there. lol. But it felt good. I struggled bad through the wall sits, not making it through the whole thing and falling to the ground at one point. I got up as soon as I could and continued through, but I dropped again. It was a serious, serious struggle. The Single Leg Wall Squats were the same thing. I was all over the place and in real pain. I felt really disappointed in myself and angry that I couldn’t do it. Not a good feeling. On the back side of things… my pull-up count today was 84, which I’m pretty happy with, but I want to be able to do 100 for this full workout. That’s what I’m gunning for before this is all over.

At the end of the Legs & Back DVD I had to take a seat because I was absolutely gassed. I found myself really short of breath and gasping for air for about 15 seconds. I drank a lot of water and was trying to calm down, but again, I was getting that feeling of wanting to cry and breakdown. I can’t explain it.. It’s just a level of complete exhaustion where it feels like my body is begging for rest. It’s pretty unreal. But I’ll talk more about that in the closing thoughts.

Next it was on to the ever dreaded Ab Ripper X. This fucking workout has been pissing me off all fucking week, so as usual, I was trying to outdo myself on it.

Once again, this is sounding like a skipping record, but I had trouble through Bicycles, Crunchy Frog, Pulse Ups, Fifer Scissors, & Oblique V-Ups. But I got through everything else okay. Mason Twist has actually gotten surprisingly easier over the last couple of workouts, but that doesn’t mean shit when I struggle through 5 of the 11 moves.

I’m pissed. And tired. And just want this all to be done.

Day 62:
Kenpo X

There was quite a bit to get done today. It was my niece’s birthday and I was really wanting to see my family, it was my brother Gavin’s birthday and we had plans to have dinner and drinks this evening, and it was the Caribana parade, so I knew traffic was gonna be hectic. Knowing all of this, I decided to do my workout in the morning and get it out of the way before running around.

As I’ve said quite frequently in the past, Kenpo is always a relief. It’s a good way to let off some stress and Tony Horton isn’t lying in the intro when he says that before you know it the workout is done. It goes by very, very quickly and I always enjoy my Kenpo day.

Today I felt myself getting pretty rickety. I wasn’t tired. I was doing all the jogging, skipping, jumping jacks and x-jumps during the breaks, I was performing all the moves with intensity and focus, my breathing was fine and my endurance was up, but I just felt rickety. On some kicks my balance was wavering. During the Prayer Twist in the warm-up, I was nearly toppling. And my legs felt weak. My assumption was that it was a result of 2 things: Plyometrics on Tuesday and Legs & Back from yesterday. I had kind of forgotten about the genius way these workouts are set up to keep you pushing yourself to your absolute limit, and today I got a cruel reminder.

Once the kicks started to come into the workout, I realized that my right leg really hasn’t totally recovered from the Yoga accident that happened last week. While throwing the Ball Kicks, my lower hamstring down to the top of my calf was feeling really, really strained and I needed to drop the intensity as well as the height of the kicks to comfortably move on. I considered turning the DVD off, but I’m not one to succumb to injury until it’s too late, so I continued with a lot of concern on that right leg.

I got through the rest of the DVD just fine, but again, I noticed through some of the drag/punch sequences that my form and balance was a little shaky. Again, I think this has a lot to do with the 2 leg related workouts from the week, but it wasn’t very encouraging throughout Kenpo.

When the DVD was done I felt like a million bucks. It’s just a good way to end a week of working hard and pushing yourself. I’ll see how my legs feel tomorrow, but as of right now, they’re not in a good place.

Day 63:
Rest or X Stretch

It’s 11:14pm and I haven’t done the X Stretch DVD. I know I should and I may just end up doing it before I workout tomorrow because my knees started to really hurt me last night while I was out for my brother Gavin’s birthday. Tonight they’re both really bothering me and I can’t even put my feet up on my coffee table without bad discomfort in both knees. I’m gonna ice them later on because this is not a good time for me to fall out of this thing because of injury. Thankfully tomorrow is an upper body workout, but if my legs still feel like this by the time Plyo comes around on Tuesday, I may need to reconsider doing Cardio X insteady. We’ll see.

The Diet:

Man, this “The Diet” section is getting dumb boring. You guys know wassup. I eat a lot of egg whites for breakfast and have added shredded turkey, 2 chicken dogs and 2 pieces of whole grain bad with nonfat butter to my 1st meal of the day. My post workout shake consists of 8 ounces of low fat Vanilla Soy Milk, a banana, mango nectar, a handful of strawberry slices, ice cubes and whey protein. I’ve been eating homemade jerk chicken breast – arguably the fattiest food I serve myself. I have salads with low calorie Italian dressing, eat tuna straight out of the can, and snack occasionally on soy nuts, but most often on sliced turkey and chicken with mustard.

Here’s the worst thing about this week – I bought these little chocolate squares from Le Gourmand in Toronto so my girlfriend could try them with me. My homegirl Zaki told me that they were great, so I thought I’d pick them up. It says that 1 serving is 9 of these chocolate thins, and they are fucking addictive!! I ate 3 at a time on at least 5 occasions this week. Not good, I know. No excuses.

Other than that, it’s been the same shit. Same shit. Same shit. No changes here.

Closing Thoughts:

It was a rough, rough week for me. On 3 occasions, while working out, I found my mind and body so exhausted that I collapsed to my hands and knees close to tears. It has been fucked. There’s a lot going on in terms of planning for my next steps creatively, and as excited as I am, I feel that I need this damn project to be over before I can take full control of my wants out of my life. My determination towards this BS of My Life shit has ironically become the bane of my day to day living and I schedule my whole day around getting my workouts in. I don’t want to fail myself here, and I need to get through this, but I’m feeling very frustrated and it’s deterring my thoughts about this whole P90X shit. I don’t feel stronger although I feel healthier. It’s like there has been a decline with my relative strength according to my weight. I mean, on paper this doesn’t make sense because I have proven that I am stronger by being able to perform more reps or push more weight, do more push-ups and get through more pull-ups, but my day to day strength doesn’t seem changed. I don’t know, maybe it’s just a mental thing because I’m a lot more slender than I was before. Who knows..

I haven’t felt this sick of any project that I’ve put myself through, ever. The Sober 165 lasted 75 days I believe? And the Beer Weight Experiment was only 30 days. To think that I have done 63 days of this project and still have 4 more weeks to go is a lot to deal with especially when you’re so focused on your next steps. I really feel that my overall emotional spiraling has a lot to do with how much time I’ve invested in this project. It’s insane. People really don’t understand how much I put into doing this and it’s become a very awkward struggle.

I’ll be back next week, hopefully with new spirits. Trust me, after this week, I’m gonna need them.

…

I think my closing thoughts about this week are best summed up in my Day 60 Results post. Read the entry HERE.

Welcome To The Legends League.

Read The BS of My Life / P90X:
Intro
Week 1
Week 2
Week 3
Week 4
Day 30 Results
Week 5
Week 6
Week 7
Week 8
Day 60 Results

06.18.08

On the day I most greatly anticipated myself being hung over, I find myself on the streetcar coming home from work, tired and very much ready to punch something that’ll surely bleed. Along with my want to drink again comes the fear of what spiraling slide I’ll find myself lodged into next should I take on the risk of trying to become a social and socially responsible drinker. I look at what my body looks and feels like now and I’m worried about returning to a place where I was welcome, but I definitely was not comfortable living in.

The last time I was this weight I was working out 2 times a day and involving myself with enough physical activity to tire a jack rabbit. This time around all I had to do was blog everyday and take a couple of photos. So they say easy money goes fast. Well I need to listen and store some of what I’ve learned during The Beer Weight Experiment in the bank before I find my wallet on E and my self confidence close by.

I admit that when this all started I was afraid of going through the same symptoms of withdrawal that I did when I went sober in 04. Thankfully, since I wasn’t drinking nearly as often, the ripping my hair out and scratching myself to scars was replaced with being a little moody and complaining about relatively trivial things. You would think that not drinking for one month would be easy enough. It wasn’t. And now I’m learning that dreading the first time back in a bar is just as equally nerve wracking a trial to play the accused at.

THE SUPPORT

The support from many of The Legends League’s readers has been tremendous over this past month. From south africa to italy, chicago, brooklyn, toronto, the bay area, the netherlands, australia and montreal, the regular visits to the page and the frequent emails to me personally have been incredibly helpful. I am humbled by your support and amazed at the humanness of your messages. Fans blow air, but support holds you up when you need it most. My sincerest, and most heartfelt thanks to you all.

LOS

Many of you who don’t know me personally have no clue who I refer to when I speak about my homey Los (Solrac), who by his own will and on his own account, completed the BWE with me silently. This dude has been a big brother to me for 12 years now, and impressed me over and over again during our month of “SolBryity”. Without his stories of turning down random opportunities to get drunk with strangers at local bars or party with Kanye in VIPs, I don’t know how sane I wouldve been able to stay knowing I was alone in this. My hats off to that dude. And yall know I don’t ever take my hat off for shit.

PROS vs. CONS

During the BWE, I found myself waist deep in battling the pros and cons of laying off the bottle and airing out on the web. And while I was prepared to deal with struggles, I wasn’t prepared to deal with some of the struggles I faced.

On one hand, having an audience makes you far more commited to sticking with your goals. In my case I had viewers, but in another persons scenario they may have a partner or a friend who’s down to quit drinking with them. (Being aware of who you may let down is sometimes a very big blessing). On the other hand, having an audience creates a crowd that has access to all of your vulnerabilities. I was as giving and truthful with my writing as I’ve ever been during the BWE. I never spoke in tangled metaphors, and didn’t use poetic verses to convey my messages. I gave my all in writing as clearly and openly as possible, all for the sake of sharing, and in hopes that some of what I had been able to say during this month of clear-mindedness may connect to one or some of you. Evidently much of it has. Being open and honest with a trusted friend or partner is important when it comes to conquering your vices and admitting to your struggles, and I can say that if I hadn’t provided myself with an outlet for my emotions during the BWE, I would have really emotionally broken down.

When I weighed in on the first day I thought I would drop 10 lbs by the end of it. After all, I lost 40 in about a month the last time I went sober. But this go round I was already in reasonable shape. (Don’t hate. “Oval” counts as a shape, motherfucker). I had a lot of people predicting how much I would lose. People guessed more weight would come off of my neck and face than on the scale, some said I’d lose 15 lbs, while others weren’t quite sure as to why I was even doing this. While I knew I would lose some weight, I wasn’t prepared for the public spectacle I was about to make myself. It was embarassingly difficult to continue to post photos and weights, and many mornings I would wake up dreading the scale. .

Although it was a lot to deal with, I knew that if I stuck by my commitment there would be definite, almost inactive change. The hardest part of sledding down a hill is climbing the slope at the start. Knowing this, I tried my best to stay away from my routine activities. I stopped going to the Beaconsfield randomly for dinner, or for a pint after work. I hung out at the back of the stage at Shuffle rather than roaming the crowd, and I stayed in on Fridays to catch up on work or play a video game or two. Socially, this became pretty boring, but after the first week or two I noticed I was far more productive, my energy levels were higher, I got more sleep, and I was saving a hell of a lot of money. All of this while, yes, losing weight effortlessly. The decline in social activity really meant nothing. So I missed a few parties that I’d been to 20 times before. So I didn’t hang out at the listening party. I can listen to a CD without a party, that’s for sure. And who really cares about turning down an offer for a drink every now and then? I started to remember that the friends that I had weren’t drinking buddies, they were buddies I have that I go for drinks with. Everyone else, is just around for company. (I learned this once before when I stopped smoking weed). Consider that. If you were to quit smoking, would the dude you share a morning smoke with in your office even come by to say hi anymore? Yeah, think about it.

UPS and DOWNS

The low points during the BWE were mostly related to stress management. I found that when I got stressed out by bad business associate moves or financial issues and bills, I immediately wanted a drink. I had to rethink this response. A plant that hasn’t grown needs water and sunlight, not its branches pulled. I had been too used to dealing with my problems in the wrong manner and it was very, very difficult to go through regular, human stresses and not respond like an alcoholic.

The high points were almost all related to Los. He messaged me one night telling me that a random girl on the streetcar had asked him to go for drinks at her friends bar with some of their friends, on some, “Shiiit, we can do this every weekend” type shit. He declined for the sake of staying away from the bottle. Another afternoon I went to go check him at work and he told me he had passes for the Kanye “Glow in the Dark” show and some V.I.P. thing with at Circa, here in Toronto. He sold his ticket for $20, saying, “Hey, its the price of a haircut”. His commitment was again, a huge help and source of hilarity when I needed it most.

The most obvious upside of this whole experiment was my physical change. So here come the results.

THE HARD RESULTS

My starting weight was: 170.6 lbs. While this is not odd for my height and frame, I was not in the shape that I wanted to be in.

My mental goal was: 165 lbs. This is my ideal “fighting weight” in my opinion. I felt that if I could drop to this weight, I could rebuild myself back up through exercise.

The most noticable physical change was: definitely in my face, my skin and in my stomach. My clothes fit me a lot better and I feel more comfortable with my overall appearance. I didn’t realize how out of shape I was getting until I started losing size around my belly.

The greatest difference in pounds was: 9.3 lbs in 1 week. I weighed myself one evening and the scale hit 176. A week later I weighed in at 166.7. I know that your body weight fluctuates throughout the day, but seeing it with my own eyes was pretty amazing.

My final weight was: 166.2 lbs. Although I missed my target weight, losing poundage in dead beer weight makes a big difference. A pound of fat takes up more mass than a pound of muscle, so the numbers are quite deceiving, but the physical changes are evident. If I had to put myself through this all again, I definitely would, and I actually would highly recommend it. As consumers I think we become numbed to our spending habits. We are used to exchanging tender for goods. But as consumers of substances we tend to forget that what we are providing our bodies with is essentially a poison. The addiction to these poisons is very soothing and difficult to escape, but our bodies deteriorate inside out from the consumption of them. And we cannot see the effects so we ignore the facts. The Beer Weight Experiment allowed me to see what my addiction to consumption was not only doing to my wallet, but also what the reverse effects were doing to my body. Considering the results, I can say that in a month I was able to shed 4.4 lbs of presumed “Beer Weight”. What would the results have been if I was more prone to drinking liquor? What would my overall health be like if I just decided to quit drinking altogether?

What I got out of the BWE was more than just the confidence in my own will to not drink. I gained a sense of self that allowed me to reflect on many of my life experiences that otherwise were drowned through the bottom of a bottle or mazed within metaphors in poems. I have learned more closely the power of the support of peers, and also how alive many of us still are. Through eliminating one of my biggest vices I was given the opportunity to realize the greatest road block and deterrent to success we all have – the faith in ourselves to succeed at what we are otherwise expected to not even attempt.

Thank you for your support ya’LL. We’ll see what comes next…

The Beer Weight Experiment:
Final Weight: 166.2 lbs.
Emotionally: Exhausted.
Appearance: As good as it’s been all month.
Level Of Temptation To Cheat: 0 out of 10. From here on out, it’s not “cheating”.
Cheat Beers: 0

Today marked the official end to The Beer Weight Experiment – Thirty One days of sobriety for the sake of finding out how much of my physical makeup was comprised of my biggest vice, beer. It’s finally over… or possibly over too soon.

There wasn’t an elaborate Last Day fiasco, nor will there be one tomorrow. All will stay the same… at least for now.

Truthfully, I’m a little upset. The reasons are numerous. But overall, I can’t complain about having hit a pound away from my target weight without having to lift a finger or eat grass everyday.

I’m very grateful for everyone’s support. The BWE Official Wrap Up will be up tomorrow.

Much love ya’LL.
be.

DAY THIRTYONE RESULTS:
Day Thirtyone Weight: 166.2 lbs.
Emotionally: Uncertain.
Appearance: I’m at the lowest weight I’ve been for the entire BWE, and I don’t think I look half bad.
Level Of Temptation To Cheat: 0 out of 10.
Cheat Beers: 0

By the time I was 17 my daughter was about to be born and I would question whether or not she was mine. By 22 I would smash a glass over my girlfriends face after being punched twice over issues of insecurity, ideas of jealousy, and the thought again, of being left alone. 3 hours later I was in an ambulance with my left wrist gaping open and a request not to be taken to the hospital my daughter was born in. They had no choice, so we went.

I was stitched a few hours later by a doctor who calmly said, “Hmm. A little higher, a little harder”.

When a child is placed in an environment long enough, he’s bound to begin to adapt to it. Either that or he’ll rebel entirely at the first site of rejection. The idea here is to act like you hate the girl you have a crush on in case she doesn’t like you, that way you can play it off as if you didn’t care in the first place. Sometimes the scenario calls for “your crush” to be replaced with grades, or getting a job, or speaking without using slang, or not selling drugs anymore, or anything that, should you try and fail, your ego would be damaged far more than your reputation.

The problem with my environment was that it was comprised of too many unstable and uncommitted elements to adapt enough to any of them. My father and I rarely spoke. He beat me more than he spoke to me. He gave me math problems instead of speaking with me in the car. This is what stands out the most in our relationship. I think sometimes that it may have been far easier for him to have left us and for me to learn how to hate someone who didn’t take care of their responsibilities than to be taught that you must love your family unconditionally and come home to someone who did the kinds of things he did to me. At 12 years old, 5 years of this treatment was enough to go through. At 27 years old, 2 decades of trying to unlearn it became quite discouraging.

My second elementary school never removed me from classes for bad behaviour. They put me in a cubicle away from the other kids and I was allowed to draw pictures of Def Squad logos and Sticky Fingaz from Onyx. They cared more about me being inside than me being in school and learning. I smiled often. I joked quite frequently. But I was more amused than I was happy, and I don’t remember much, if any of the curriculum.

There was a 2 week period after the incident with my girlfriend, where they put me on an in school suspension. I was placed in a storage room next to the principal’s office and was given no recess, allowed no interaction with any other children, and was only allowed out of the room to go to the bathroom and take medication. Nearing the end of the 2 weeks I was given permission by my principal, who incidentally was the father of a girl my (biological) sister would befriend in high school, to shoot around in the gym for 20 minutes a couple of times. In contrast to the dimlit room with a caged window, playing ball alone was quite the release.

For much of my life, I was never given definitive rejection. There was never a time when I felt entirely sent away. I was less a toss out than a set aside, and at the time it felt somewhat comfortable. What I have learned over the years though, is that this comfort with uncertainty has allowed a level of paranoia towards my loved ones to increase. Why trust the words when they are followed by tainted actions? But then why despise the actions when you’re picked up and sent home with your abuser? The lines between action and acting became very blurred, and I struggled to gain perspective. They must love me. They must love me.

“Men shouldn’t be jealous, that’s a female trait”.

My relationships with girls have always been chock full of uncertainty. There’s something about being raised by doctors and shrinks, councilors and psychologists, that makes you okay with sharing information, but never quite sure what trust means. I’ve always been questioned about my willingness to speak about my life situations and always revert back to saying, “well, the shit happened, its not like I’m lying”. This, for me isn’t the hard part of relationships. Being open is something I’ve learned to do fairly easily. My issue is not feeling as though I’m being lied to, will potentially be lied to, or left momentarily for dead. It seems men always feel the need to maintain an iron shell and a painless face even when their sacks are stomped by six inch stilettos. I, in contrast, have been raised to shred an iron armor in exchange for being further torn to shreds, and then shedding a drop or two. My perception of love is not tainted. My reception from the familiar perception of “loved ones” is.

In 2004, I was arrested for the last time on a few assault charges. Before getting sentenced, my mother was asked to give a character testimony for me. When asked if my violent nature was provoked by any childhood abuse, she responded by saying, “No. He was never abused”. Until this day she denies it, and until this day I regret having thrown out the disclosure papers that had her interview record.

What was I to think of my mother, the one who is to love you unconditionally? And what was I to think of my father, who was to show me what being a man is all about?

This father’s day my daughter told me that she was afraid to get in trouble, and that’s why she doesn’t do the things that some of her classmates do. I told her that I don’t want her to ever fear getting in trouble, that she should know the difference between right and wrong and choose her good judgment as the reason to not do anything troublesome. After Children’s Aid got involved in my house, I lost the idea of fear of punishment, and in losing it, realized I had never learned to respect my father. I only respected his anger, and it only diminished my concept of acting like a loved one, versus being active in loving.

…part 3 to follow.

DAY THIRTY RESULTS:
Day Thirty Weight: 166.6 lbs.
Emotionally: This Father’s Day was the best I’ve ever had. Thanks baby.
Appearance: Feeling good about it actually. But I can’t wait until I can exercise.
Level Of Temptation To Cheat: 0 out of 10.
Cheat Beers: 0

Today was the celebration of the birthdays of two of The Remix Projects finest participants, my dudes, William Nguyen and Adiel Papa.

I wasn’t able to make it due to responsibilities at home that seem quite trivial. Things like doing the laundry and cleaning my room, organizing my piles of tax receipts and throwing out all of my compiled garbage and recycling can only happen on Saturdays. It’s my only free day in a 60+ hour week, and when you haven’t done these things for 3 weeks and are going to be out of town for the following 2 weeks, 1 day of not doing household chores can become 2 months of no underwear. Smell me?

I’ve got nothing but love for you two fellas, and you already know how I feel about my absence today. I would have been stressed out if I showed up, and hence the message: “I’d rather be a great thought than a mediocre presence”.

Love at you fellas.
be.

DAY TWENTYNINE RESULTS:
Day Twentynine Weight: 167.7 lbs.
Emotionally: stressed out.. my apartment makes me maniacal.
Appearance: This morning I bought of pair of pants that I planned to wear to the party tonight. The size was 33 x 30. (I’m not a tall dude). I got home and they were too BIG?!!! What the EF!? So I’ll be going back sometime to get a size 32!!!! And my homey Kevin said my skin has gotten better since the BWE. Thanks Kev.
Level Of Temptation To Cheat: 0 out of 10.
Cheat Beers: 0

When I got removed from my elementary school in 93 for behavioural issues and being a threat to other students, there was a period of time when it didn’t feel like I was under any structure at all. My parents sent me off to my aunties house and I upped and left after one night, walking for 5 hours to my girls house in an M65 jacket with a bandana around my face in the dead of october and sleeping on the pavement in her backyard while she dropped food out of her window for me.

I was 12 years old.

They tried to send me to my other aunties house soon after and I remember playing 8bit nintendo in the basement when I got a call from my mother saying I was going to be sent to a center where doctors could observe me for 3 days. I agreed to it, and on the first day after being seen off by my parents, I was grabbed by the wrists, walked up a set of stairs and told to strip naked and shower in front of 2 grown men. “Just keep the curtain open, you’ll do fine”. I was given velcro shoes and someone elses clothes for the first night, underwear and all, and those 3 days turned into 2 weeks of not seeing the sun, not being allowed to touch another person, stand at the table while cutlery was out, or be on the jack without a staff member listening in on our call. This was general procedure from what it seemed, and in some ways it made sense to me. (This is where I would meet Aaron Mathis, an 8 year old who has forever changed my life, and for that I am grateful). I was released on Christmas Eve, 1993.

When the new year came, they weren’t sure where to put me. I knew kids in many of the elementary schools in the etobicoke area, which to them wasn’t a good thing. But I also had many enemies. They sent me to a school split between upper middle class kipling and eglington ’sons of doctors’ and the kids from east mall flats government housing and the 5 and 7 Capri buildings who would come in by school bus. The dynamic was a funny one that I see a greater divide in now that I’m older. The news has recently headlined the closing gap of this divide with the word “Outrage”. I wouldn’t be so quick to blame the wolf.

During my first bit at this new school I was still dating my girlfriend from about a year prior. She was around for me when my dad choked me out unconscious, and heard everything about him and his choice of leather belts, wooden sticks, and creative ways to put me through grueling means to disciplinary change. Arms out like a crucifix with books in my hands. That’s what these shoulders are made from, girl, trust me. Her father, god rest his soul, would also later beat her til she bled from her ears much like 14 division would do to me 12 years later, and we would sit through mass at the local church, 12 and 13 years old, trying to figure out what to do. She, much like many of my girlfriends, would stay with me through the worst of times. I in turn would choke her against a brick wall for asking why Childrens Aid and the police had been picking my family apart. Her father was never told. They feared what he might do to me.

There was a period during me being kicked out of school where there was a school dance that I obviously couldn’t attend. I remember being stuck in my room, the same room I spent 4 months in on house arrest in 04. I remember going crazy thinking my 13 year old girlfriend was cheating on me. When she got home she called me and said the dance was fun and that she had danced with one of my best friends at the time. I freaked out and broke the phone I was on against the wall in my room. I tore the cord out of the jack and whipped it like a nunchuck against everything I could see. I totally lost control. And I ended up inside the closet in my room in tears. Those closet doors saw the first of my writings. 10 years later they were removed.

My next relationship was far less emotionally attached since the girl seemed far less willing to let me explore the limits of her physical innocence. She was very much an under the shirt, over the bra type of girl, and at 12 years old, I can say I found that very frustrating but quite respectable and normal for our age. Outside of hiding me in her basement after beating a kid up at keele station and once again at kipling station and running from the transit cops, she was fortunate enough to have never witnessed my controlling, paranoid and jealous behaviour. I once raced her little brother down Centennial Hill and fell halfway down, rolling and barreling like a bowling pin. He loved it, and because of that I didn’t mind it so much either.

“You told me that you loved me, and you’d never go away, bullshit…”

By the time I hit high school, I still hadn’t really experienced relationships how they are said to be in nuclear families, The Simpsons and Leave It To Beaver. When you get beat with sticks and then told that sometimes a branch needs to be tied in order to straighten out the whole tree, you start to feel like a broken twig. The communication is off. You are told you are loved and this is why they are sending you away, and then sent to more places of abuse and mistreatment. You’re placed in a room where flashlights are shone on you by overnight staff and you wake up to try to peak through the blinds to catch a glimpse of snowfall as it hits the street, stories below. And you are alone. You are with 15 other kids who are all also very much alone. And you musnt touch hands, let alone hold them. And then you are 14 and don’t know shit about feeling young and blissful. You are 15 and don’t ever believe those who tell you they love you because they are bound to either send you on your way, or leave you. Trust is something that is not earned. It barely even exists. And it, like honesty and sacred ways of humanness, becomes a far cry more than a reality.

…part 2 to follow.

DAY TWENTYEIGHT RESULTS:
Day Twentyeight Weight: 167.2 lbs.
Emotionally: read the post.
Appearance: My waist seems far more slim than it was when this all started.
Level Of Temptation To Cheat: 2 out of 10.
Cheat Beers: 0

Yesterday I was M.I.A. from The Beer Weight Experiment, and you might be asking yourself, “Wha happen?”. Well, like many other nights, I was up very late writing a post and by the time I was finished I realized my camera had been on the whole time. When I woke up yesterday morning to take my BWE flicks, I was able to take the 2 shots of my face, but as I went to take the shot of my gut, the battery died!! Hence the photo of my protruding belly and the thumbs down which I just took about 5 minutes ago. Sorry guys, I had no alternative.

On a good note, I got an email from a dude named Ben saying:

“…you may be interested to know how I found your blog (just this morning)…”

Attached was a link to CNN.com’s “Living” section that I would follow and see a link to my blog on the bottom of the page! Needless to say I was very happy and shocked that someone linked me over there. I’m not sure who was paying attention, but obviously there are a few of ya’ll checking in. For this I am grateful. Please believe it.

The email closed with Ben adding:

“I read your latest post and then went back and read everything from day one! I fully support what you are doing, and send my encouragement to keep at it…”

Thank you sir. Foreally. The support that I’ve been feeling from ya’ll is amazing, and I will never neglect it. You all have my humblest, humblest thanks.

The next entry will prove to be quite the read. So be patient.
Much love.

be.

DAY TWENTYSEVEN RESULTS:
Day Twentysix Weight: 166.8 lbs.
Emotionally: Upbeat in the day, down tempo in the night.. you’ll find out soon.
Appearance: I’ve been feeling a lot better lately about my appearance. It might have something to do with the weather, it may have a lot to do with this great hat I bought a few months ago! lol.
Level Of Temptation To Cheat: 0 out of 10.
Cheat Beers: 0

It’s 3:29 AM here in Toronto. I’m listening to Norah Jones, “Feels Like Home” and I feel more awake than I have in a few weeks. The atmosphere in my kitchen is a lot like the atmosphere in my room at my old apartment. I’m sure nobody can hear me right now, and I’m quite certain that there are only a handful of you that are listening once I hit the publish button on this latest insert. Pardon me while I switch the kitchen light off and flick my desk lamp to give in to the ambiance. (…Ah. That’s better. Moving right along).

..

I spoke with someone at the office the other day about how difficult it is to break up with someone whom you have lived with and shared love with. He said something that really brought me back to when I broke up with my daughter’s mom. He said, “It didn’t really hit me that this was going to be the hardest thing I would have to do until we started divvying up the music. Like, who takes the Billy Holiday? You know? Who takes the music we played when we first took our son home from the hospital?”.

As the silent mornings, 5 hours at the marketing agency, silent afternoon streetcar ride, 6-7 hours at the youth program, silent night streetcar ride, 2 hours of work at home routine starts to ware and ware on me, I’m noticing myself struggling to listen to music. I’m noticing myself more likely to keep everything quiet in my home. I keep the television off. I don’t ever use my iTunes. I don’t like hearing people in the lot behind my apartment. I don’t want to hear anyone in the hallway. I’m likely looking through my peephole if I do hear someone out there. I jump at every sound I hear. I miss being able to control when I am bothered and by what I am interrupted by, and I miss not feeling like everything I hear is bound to be a question of what I can do for someone else. And because I miss these things, I have put myself in a predominantly silent shelter. It’s piercing.

Over the last week I have tried to change this routine. I wake up in the morning and let Breakfast Television play while I run around like a chicken with it’s head still on. It plays until I look at my stove clock and realize I’ve spent so much time getting ready that my head is on the floor and I’m frantically trying to find which pair of shoes has my orthotics in them. I bring my iPod with me to work again, usually listening to Silversun Pickups, Death Cab, Jack Johnson, MF Doom, or anyone whose lyrics give me reason to be happy that people have voices. Sometimes I revert back to Buhloone Mindstate, or Donuts, or the self titled Slum Village album, that, while not a lot of people’s favorite SV album, shows how severe Elzhi can make things for a bullshit rapper near you. I’ve tried to bring myself slowly back into the world of sounds that are pleasant and appealing rather than sounds that are pestering or seeking approval for my latest design.

What’s interesting about our relationship to music is no different than being an anglophone in the gut of Paris, Italy, or a small village in Peru. We are involving ourselves with a mental dialog that doesn’t include opposition or conflicting opinion. We are surrounded by flocks of people whom we cannot communicate with comfortably. We are foreign and frustrated by how close we are to one another, but how far away we are from understanding each other. But then there is this landscape, this environment, this ambiance that captivates us and speaks to our need for reflection. The ocean doesn’t say anything directly at us, but it speaks to so many of our thoughts. And in response to this relation of sounds and emotions we nod our head, we close our eyes, we cry, we dance, we hold one another, and in moments of sheer bliss, we keep our shades on in the club and pour Grey Goose down the throats of groupies. Yes. I said it. The throats of groupies. I’m sure Norah Jones can relate.

The thing with having spoken to so many psychologists and psychiatrists growing up is that I am used to these non opinionated dialogs. I am used to speaking freely about what is on my mind and not worrying about the response. There’s just an understanding that what is coming out of my mouth is the honest truth. And I will not be shot down for it. This is why it’s recommended that many people speak with shrinks. It’s nice to know that you can air things out to someone who is supposed to be speaking beside you and not against you. And here is the inverse of our relationship with our music. The difference is that the music we enjoy under particular circumstances is the music that reflects an artists ability to speak to an emotion or scenario that an individual has experienced. Our attachment to our dialog between listener and song is that we don’t have to speak our minds, it is being so well spoken to already that we understand that while we may walk in a country that does not accept us wholly, while we roam the streets of a community that cares not for our opinion, while we struggle to make it through our 9-5’s, 10-10’s, 1-3’s, or dead time in East Detention, we are clearly not alone in our struggles to be accepted for who we are in a fashion that is without bias. Music provides us with this acceptance.

..

It’s now 5:04AM. I took some time while writing this to clean my house a bit and light a few candles for my wife, who was just coming home from work. Norah Jones has played through, as has Yesterday’s New Quintet’s, “Stevie”. And I’m back to silence. There’s something about my thoughts on foreign land being a metaphor for our regular lives and landscapes acting as our soundtracks that now, under silence’s watch, has got me ready to go back to bed – When it comes time for me to find my way home, I still haven’t found anyone who understands me enough to point me in the right direction.

DAY TWENTYSIX RESULTS:
Day Twentysix Weight: 168.7 lbs.
Emotionally: I’ve forgotten the sound of my voice when it’s just there for conversation.
Appearance: This morning I looked crazy skinny. It actually shocked me.
Level Of Temptation To Cheat: 8 out of 10.
Cheat Beers: 0

As the cats and raccoons do their nightly scrapping in the parking lot behind me, I’m thinking that with only 6 days left in the BWE the real issue isn’t ‘not drinking’, it’s finding a way to do it moderately. The issue is how am I going to go back to drinking in a fashion that keeps me away from binging, keeps me from over spending at the bar, and keeps my mind out of the funnel that pours somewhere bottomless.

For years me and Los have been trying to do something like this. We’ve promised ourselves over and over again that we would cut down or that we would stop. We’d say, “I’m done with drinking after..(insert random event here).”. There would always be an ‘after’ to wait for before we would quit. Things like long weekends, birthdays, parties, or just the fact that the weather was nice, would be excuse enough for us to not slow down our binges and marathon fiascoes.

When this is all over, the likelihood of myself and Los getting smashed is pretty high. We’ll probably outdo ourselves and turn into stumbling, mumbling fools. We’ll likely have terrible hangovers the following day, shoot up out of our beds and make sure we got home safe with our wallets still kicking around and our teeth still in our mouths. I remember the days of waking up and seeing blood on my knuckles from fights or punching random things in the night. I remember sleeping behind a store near the old CP Used here in Toronto in G-Star denim, a Club Monaco bomber and a wool Lacoste sweater because I didn’t want to be in the god forsaken house I grew up in. I remember waking up naked on the couch in my moms living room with 2 empty 26ers (fifths for my Non-Canadian readers), of Bacardi and my mom just shaking her head as she walked out Monday morning for work. And worst of all, I remember loving the feeling of all of these things.

When you’re like me, there’s a lot to run from that alcohol, meds, and fist fights will get you away from. Unfortunately alcohol is the only thing out of those that I can really indulge in publicly without getting arrested. It’s warm to me. It’s natural and I’ve known it well enough since 12 years old. It hasn’t done me wrong, but it sure has steered me into wrong’s backyard many, many times.

I hope that after this is all through I can regain some control of my life outside of cold turkey quits and spicy turkey breakfast wraps from Sobey’s before work. There’s no conversation that any of ya’ll can have with me that’s going to make the probabilities of my downward slip any more or less likely. This one’s up to me.

I spent some time in AA a few years back and I learned something while I sat in on these groups:

How much I drink does not dictate whether or not I’m an alcoholic. If I don’t touch a drop for 15 years and I join the Catholic Church I am not miraculously healed of my alcoholism. It is and always will be a part of me, whether I decide to overrule the request for a Last Day celebration and stay on fruit drinks, or I buy the bar out at Revival and end up arms slung around 2 friends who throw me in a cab without money.

I will always be an alcoholic because I will always have an issue with alcohol. The real challenge here is whether I make the decision to let it consume me once more or I choose to take pride in this time spent refocusing and detoxing and maintain control over what has played a huge negative roll in my life for so many years.

Wish my clarity. Luck has no say in the experiment from here on out.

DAY TWENTYFIVE RESULTS:
Day Twentyfive Weight: 167.4 lbs.
Emotionally: I’m anticipating the BWE being over already.
Appearance: My face feels a bit meatier today. Weird. Everything else is exactly the same.
Level Of Temptation To Cheat: 6 out of 10.
Cheat Beers: 0

I like it hot. Trust me.

And if you’re ‘pausing’ that, then you’re obviously a dude who has homoerotic thoughts that you’re clearly feeling uncomfortable about. So relax, take a breath, and think it through, you’ll be fine, child.

For the majority of the Canadian year we suffer through rain, snow or grey skies. My mom once told me that Canada only has 2 seasons – winter, and construction. We fuck up our roads so bad trying to clear all the snow that we end up with pot holes the size of graves by the time the weather’s nice enough to drive on the shit. I bet at least 4 cyclists have lost their lives or disappeared into thin air because of the fucking pot holes we leave ourselves from the plows, but we gotta do something about it right? Something other than complain about how we can’t wait until it’s hot again.

For those of you who know me, or have found some way to be at my gates in the past 2 years, you’ll know my old spot was NOT very desirable. Too many things were shady over there so I moved, and now that I’ve gotten comfortable with the new base I’m realizing that some shit over here ain’t totally what I’m about, outside of the random crack head and hooker around the way or the weirdo winos in the back of the parking lot.

The main peeve I’ve got about my apartment is this – no heat in the winter, no AC in the summer. It’s exactly like my room at my mom’s old house! I got home today from work hoping to be able to sit back and relax for a minute before the BWE posting, but soon after I got in the door I was overwhelmed with a mugginess like I was wearing a snowsuit in a kiln. My place is hoooooooot right about now. So hot in fact, that I wouldn’t be surprised if the notes taped to my wall are all over my desk by now. Wait, that was stupid. I’m at my desk and I can see that they’re not on my desk. They’re still very securely fastened. Fuck it. It is hot.

There’s only a couple of things that I like doing in this heat, and one of them isn’t complaining about it. I think the best thing I’ve been doing to deal with this so far is remembering February. Until that does nothing for me, I’m open to any suggestions as to how to keep cool in this sauna I’ve recently acquired.

Stay refreshed and hydrated my people..
Peace.

By the way, I think my body has stopped rewarding me for the BWE. 2 Fridays ago I weighed in at 176 lbs before bed. This passed weekend I hit the record low of 166.7 lbs. That’s close to 10 lbs difference. Now I just keep teetertottering between 167 and 172, and my belly is all the same. We’ll see.. 1 more week.

DAY TWENTYFOUR RESULTS:
Day Twentyfour Weight: 168.7 lbs.
Emotionally: I’m fine thanks, yourself?
Appearance: The stomach is about the same. Not much change other than in the face and arms.
Level Of Temptation To Cheat: 0 out of 10.
Cheat Beers: 0