Search This Blog

Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Alternative Reality 523

Yesterday at the gym, while I was slowly, carefully, practically serenely working out with the weights, I noticed this kid – must’ve been in his early 20s. Why’d he catch my eye? He was, from a stock-still pose, jumping up onto a large box.

The hell was this all about?

Plyometrics you say? ‘the Hell is that?
Plyometrics
noun
exercise involving repeated rapid stretching and contracting of muscles (as by jumping and rebounding) to increase muscle power
Coco dreams of winters spent in Jamaica. REALLY!
Gotta say, dude looked impressive as all fucking Hell. Superhero-esque even but what bennies come from doing this specific shit?

Carl Valle sez this:
For years, I have used box jumps judiciously with athletes and find them a not very valuable option. It is not that it does not have any value, but the obsession people have with box jumps does not seem to make sense if you look at the big picture. Jumping and landing on a box has very little transfer to performance, and with any exercise, I see more and more abuse of the movement (source)
Yeah but it looks SO damn cool!

What this, naturally, led me to was this – today’s alternative reality. The Amazing Bob is alive and as healthy and strong as that box jumping kid I saw at the Y. In my scripted reality, TAB doesn’t have cancer, ARDS, busted disks in his spine…not even a delicate tum-tum. Nope, my man is in brill shape. So much so that he still plays ball, still pitches his crazy-ass, brill junk.

In this reality, I'm healthy too. I’ve got hearing AND fab balance. No Nf2 for me, mes amis! TAB and I still have our endless convos about everything under and beyond the sun. I can still hear his beautiful, deep, midnight jazz station DJ voice as he tells me about….whatever! The man could read the Engine Builder's Handbook and make it sound totes dreamy.

We spend winters down on the beach in Montego Bay. Why there? I liked the tune. Actually, in real life, TAB and I had talked about spending the winter on the beach in Jamaica. We figured him, me and Coco could sit on our cabin porch, reading matter in hand, spark up a doobie, watch a different set of waves float in and talk our usual silly talk, all in warm, sunny 77º weather (versus Boston’s snowy 20º days).

On the way back to Valhalla, TAB and I will check into Fort Meyers to take in a few of the Soxies Spring Training games. No, I’m not a fan but, Hell’s bells, I’d go anywhere with TAB. PLUS, he could explain all the plays to me and, once again, his voice, his way of describing things would make it all endlessly fascinating.

Can we please make this my real reality now?! Hey, as long as I'm creating a Fantasy World – the Festering Orange Id Pile isn't president, Republicans do NOT control the House and Senate AND Granny Starver Ryan and Murderous Turtle McConnell were challenged and LOST in their last reelection bid.

Yeah, that's the ticket. I feel MUCH better now!

No comments:

Post a Comment