Ramblings of this first week

Well, looks like that 2014 plan didn’t exactly work out did it?

Well keeping that massive failure aside, lets just move on shall we?


So I have a theory about my life. Things generally only last 3 months and then somehow gets massively fucked up. Now I’m not talking relationship wise, so far that hasn’t been too bad. But other stuff. Stuff like say, exercise. Back in 2013, right at the beginning, I was heavily into MMA (namely the UFC) and found out that Mark Hominic and Sam Stout had a gym in London. Can you believe that? Not just one, but TWO professional UFC fighters who train out of my small city. So I got invested in it, I mean everyone has to start somewhere.

And what a 3 months it was. I felt infinitely more confident, stronger, and just better overall (albeit sore as hell for the first month). Then March came. Whoofuckingwhoo. Apparently my insurance company had fucked my payment schedule up, and I owed $600 in outstanding insurance. What the actual shit. I asked for every month to just take out what I owed, and be done with it. But due to an error (made on THEIR end) it was actually set up to withdraw ever 3 months instead of every month. So as livid as I was with them, I also sort of needed to drive. Seeing as at the time I lived in Lucan aka nowhere. This was eventually settled with me paying DOUBLE my insurance rate for 3 months to catch up on the 3 months I missed.

Now this isn’t ENTIRELY the insurance companies fault. Yes, they messed up. But I could have been checking my bank statements better and should have noticed that the money didn’t actually come out. So hindsight is always 20/20. What were we talking about again? Pigeons? Oh right. 3 months.

So the following 3 months of double payments unfortunately got me off track with my MMA involvement. And let me tell you that even to THIS DAY, in APRIL of 2015 that I wish I had started back up again. And to give a brief summary of why I cannot, TL;DR – Money, I has none.

That’s my first example. My next came in August of 2013. Woke up one morning, beautiful day without a cloud in the sky. Walk into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, come back and see that I have a text message. Cool beans, its from Mom! Open it and read that my great grandmother had passed away. Oh. Well that certainly wasn’t how I planned to start that month. It was a moment of brief sadness, but ultimately followed by relief. She was 96 years old and easily one of the toughest women I’d ever met. Hell, at 92 she fought off orderlies who under my grandma’s orders were there to take her to a retirement home. She was SO intent on staying that she actually fought off 2 male and one female orderly. Successfully I may add. Two years later at 94, she was diagnosed with a blood infection, a bladder infection and pneumonia.


You read that right. At the same time. All of those conditions which would normally take down someone in their NINETIES on their own, and she has 3 of them. And didn’t lose any sleep over it either, just went into the hospital and was fine within two weeks.

So as sad as it was to lose a family member, I was happy that she was at peace. I had far off relatives pass before but it didn’t really affect me that much. This was the first one that did. But then two weeks after her funeral, my grandpa who I was living with was admitted to the hospital one night after suspected dehydration. We noticed he was losing some weight. Thought nothing of it, just a reduced appetite. Get some fluids in him and we’re good to go right? Naw’ bro. One week later we’re back in the hospital. Appetite never returned. Full body scan + tests later and welp. Cancer. I won’t say which kind but it was bad. We had a brief moment of hope in that this specific cancer was operable. But my grandpa had already lost so much weight that the anesthesia itself would post a 50% chance of death. He made the decision not to operate. Essentially he knew his fate. Which leads me into the following 3 months. August to November 2013. At this point I am 100% completely off track with exercise. It’s a random mix of partying and unhealthy eating. September I attempted to get back into the swing of things. Went to the gym a bit but got a little over-zealous with my lifting. My all time best for a deadlift was 205lbs. Just getting back into it and finding 135 (AKA zero) too light, I jumped up to 175. Bad idea. Something in my back gave way and for the next 4 days I couldn’t lift anything or breath right. I personally believe it was a really bad muscle cramp around my serratus anterior/lats/rhomboids. Either way, the mixture of unhealthy foods, lack of exercise and partying took its toll on me and I was exhausted doing simple things. After a close at work my back would be screaming and I felt like an old man. My waistline started to expand and for a while I moved up to a 36, but it wasn’t because of muscle.  This put a fear in my head of going back to the weights as I didn’t want to hurt myself further. Then towards the end of November, on the 24th, it snowed in London. Oh boy did it snow. I had been scheduled to open that day, and it was coming down hard even at 6am. 2ft had accumulated since I arrived at 5:30am to give you an idea. A fellow partner (I work at Starbucks)  was stuck in the snow and I volunteered to push him out. We had a bit of an encounter with a rude snowplow but eventually got things rolling. He parked, I went back inside to warm up and go on my break and get a hot chocolate. Took a look at my phone (It’s 7am roughly around this point) and my mom texts me saying “Hi Brian. Michael has passed away this morning. Thought you should know”. I was stunned. I didn’t know what to do or say. I was let go early and got the next 3 days off of work. This sort of set my thoughts in motion about life, how I’m living etc. and what I want to do.

Huzzah It’s 2014! It was a little weird for me personally to have a Christmas without my Papa there. Just didn’t feel…whole. But I mean this is what moving on, acceptance and healing is all about. You have to face the bad first to get to the greener pastures. There are a few more incidents that lasted 3 months through 2014, but I will save those for another time.

So here we are in 2015. I’m just at the end of the first 3 months. And I lifted consistently for all of those 3 months. Feel better, bigger than I’ve ever been. But here I sit on WordPress, completely unmotivated. Knowing I’ll lose my gainz if I don’t get off my ass. As I sat here and wrote all of this out, my conclusion can only come to this. During these 3 month periods, it’s essentially my exam time for life. 3 Months of positive stuff that I do for myself and I feel like life looks at me and say “Alright, this guy has been doing well. Time for a test!”. Whether it’s positive or negative, I feel like I’m being tested and graded on my reactions to these events in my life. And the grade I get determines if good or bad things come of it. You can think this way of thinking is silly but it’s how I’m thinking and taking it.

Here’s hoping I pass my next exam!