Drunk

Eating lunch with a friend today felt a little weird. I think maybe it was the absence of alcohol. Does anyone else realize that the majority of times we see other people nowadays are when we're drunk, or about to be?

"Push"

Being a PT is a lot more involved of a job than I originally imagined it to be. There's no quick getting in and out.. at least not if you want to be a good one.

I quickly found that in addition to playing the trainer role, I also have to fill the roles of: conscience, teacher, nutritionist, psychologist, organizer/planner and motivator.

From my perspective, the teacher role is the most important and truly effective. "Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day, but teach him to fish and he will eat for a lifetime." If you can teach someone to exercise and diet effectively and correctly, then they'll be able to make changes in their lives independently. They'll be able to build on their progress indefinitely. I think that's the #1 problem with the fad diets and workouts (you'd be surprised at some of the newfangled workouts people are pushing nowadays); there's no teaching element to illustrate why they are working. The process is more like "Dang, this workout 360XYZ was working great last month, and now I'm getting nothing out of it!" If they had learned about it, then they would know exactly why it was becoming less effective and how to modify it to work again. But then again, that may or may not be on purpose.

From the client perspective, I think the motivator role is the most important... probably because it is the most salient. I can imagine that having someone watching you the whole time, paying for PT and not wanting to let someone down are pretty powerful motivators.

There are verbal motivators that work differently for everyone, but one that I've found that's pretty universal is "Push yourself!" Without fail, I can say that and they will suddenly give a renewed 110% effort at whatever they're doing. A few more reps, 10 more seconds, 6 more jabs. The reaction is almost as if I just challenged their very identity - their sense of determination, discipline and all those related traits. I don't think anyone thinks themselves below average in those areas, so there we go: A key to good motivation is challenging something that people identify with so they aren't only motivated to prove it to you, but to themselves as well.

Stories

"Everyone's got their own tales."

You know that stereotype that old people like to drone on about their younger days without end? Sometimes they've actually got interesting stuff to say. I've been a lot more accepting of it as a result of my recent optometrist visit in San Diego. Turns out there is an optometrist's office right inside that glasses store next to Chipotle.

I was greeted by a lively old optometrist with huge eyebrows and we made the requisite small-talk as I looked through those huge lens-changers. He noticed that I was in good shape and asked me if I worked out. So we talked about that for a while, and it turns out that he did some amateur bodybuilding competitions in the 50's, had a powerlifting background and used to train with this man: Sergio Oliva, who was Arnold's immediate predecessor at the top of bodybuilding. He even whipped out a picture of the two of them together from the 60's posing in trunks. He told me about some of the ways they used to train, which are probably only interesting to me and Richard.

Next, when I told him I was Chinese, he asked if I knew the name Tang Lan Hwa. His pronounciation was pretty bad, but it was a familiar name. Tang Lang Hwa is a famous Chinese singer/actress along the lines of Teresa Teng and Faye Wong, definitely a name that your parents will recognize. Turns out that he saw her quite frequently because his wife, also Chinese, was one of her best friends. They met while Tang Lan Hwa was on tour and staying at a hotel. His wife was determined to meet her, so she went to the hotel, asked for her as if she was her friend and just went up to her room. Voila, BFFs.

Then he told me about living in Chicago, how San Diego was in earlier years, the crazy patients he had as an optometrist and his visits to China. I remarked that it sounded like he had had a pretty amazing and interesting life, but he replied with something that I thought was kind of profound, "Nah... Everyone's got their own tales."

We rarely realize the moments of greatest magnitude in our lives as they are happening, so I wonder... What will end up being my tales?

EDIT: One more thing 'Ol Jack said that really stayed with me... "To get what you want in this life, you gotta have balls."

Cars

I say this in the least creepy and voyeuristic way possible: I like to watch people in their cars. Mostly at stoplights. Not only does it help pass the time, it alleviates my road rage because I can just laugh at the dickhead that just cut me off. Most people seem to neglect that all the windows in their cars, not only the front and back windshields, are... well, clear.

Let's break down the most common...
-Zoning out and staring straight ahead into space
-Looking at self in rearview mirror (mostly women)
-Singing and bobbing head to music
-Talking on the phone without a headset while looking around for cops
-Picking nose covertly.. or some not so covertly
-Spilling water on face from water bottle (just one old lady, her face was priceless)

Scars

The lack of sunlight during fall/winter accentuates my natural paleness, which correspondingly accentuate my stretch marks. They're located mostly on my arms, back and chest as a result of weight lifting, so while they are a little unsightly, I wear them with some degree of pride. They got me thinking about two notable scars I have.

1. Bald spot on the back of my head. I was at McDonald's when I was 3 and had just gotten a happy meal. My parents didn't often take me out to McDonald's, much less buy me toys, so it was quite a day for me. I dropped my toy on the ground and was swooping down to pick it up when I slipped off the chair and went head-first into the bolt that was holding the table in place. I vaguely remember seeing a french fry on the ground and thinking, "Isn't anyone going to eat that?" After that point, I just remember a lot of bleeding and crying... and amidst it all, I never got that stupid toy back. (Why do all kids simply love McDonald's? I remember wanting it for three meals a day back then. Are there some addictive properties of eating chicken nuggets that aren't made of chicken? Is it that creepy pedophile Ronald? The hashbrowns are awesome, though.)

2. Scar on the bottom of my left pec. Don't run with scissors.

Lassie

So what if Timmy fell down the old well?


Dog drags injured friend off of highway

Quotes

Some quotes from the past week...

Duct tape and WD40 can fix 99% of problems in life. If it is supposed to move and it does not - WD40. If it moves and should not - Duct tape.

Whether you believe you can or can't, you are right.
- Henry Ford

Your best bet is to act like a duck, looking calm and composed on the surface but pedaling furiously under the water.
- Steven Gilbert (Does he know how funny of a visual he created? It just makes me think of a duck quack-groaning under the strain)

From one of my clients who is a lawyer: A month before law school starts is the point at which your life ceases for the next 14 months. Just accept it.

From the same guy: Yeah, I think maybe we'll have a kid sometime. As long as he doesn't get in the way.

And not a quote yet kind of quoteworthy, today I got asked if I was married.

Race

On Sunday, I lined up at a starting line for the first time since sophomore year of high school. My last race back then was actually pretty epic, as my 4x400 relay team miraculously qualified for the CCS semis on account of everyone running out of our minds. I think I was actually the slowest at about 52.8s on my leg, and our time was in the 3:31 region.

I got semi-coerced into running the Annual Christmas Relays in SF at Lake Merced by my boss. One of the guys on his team of 4 fell sick during the week, so he asked me on Wednesday if I would fill in. I got the call at about 3:00 PM, set out for 3.5 mile run at about 3:30 and was dying by 3:40. I don't know how much it really paid off, seeing as I was sore right up until the morning of the race, but it felt good to know that I was still capable of running.

So Sunday morning rolled around, and we head off to SF at 7:30 AM for a 9:00 race start time. The course was a lap around the lake itself, 7 KM or 4.6 miles each runner. I took the first leg and finished in about 33 minutes which is about a 7:30 mile pace. And of course, it started raining about 1 mile in. At this point, I would like to thank anonymous old man, who I drafted (running right behind them, which decreases the amount of wind resistance and effort) and paced off of for 4 miles. He looked like he was about 60 years old, and I just kept thinking to myself, "There's no way in hell this guy is going to beat me." I can still see his muscular, veiny calves in my head. The other guys on my team went about 42, 32 and 30 minutes for their legs.

I can barely walk today, but it was definitely worth it and a lot more fun than I expected. The fact that it was a relay incorporated my best memories from high school track, and going with a big group of people from our gym reminded me of cross country, where everyone would cheer each other on as soon as they were done with their own races.

On a funny note, I think my team had to be THE most randomly composed team out there.
-22 year old Chinese personal trainer that's going to law school
-29 year old Indian restauranteur that owns this place: http://www.yelp.com/biz/rangoli-india-restaurant-san-jose
-38 year old Korean gym owner
-52 year old white golf pro at Deep Cliff (also the fastest guy on our team, though maybe my boss wasn't trying super hard)

We must have looked like one of those college advertisements that makes sure to feature someone of every race.

Skillz

In the spirit of 'nots'... One thing I realize I'm not is a great dancer. I can move to a beat and not look totally out of place, but I'm no Michael Flatley, Mikhail Baryshnikov, or even Ronald Yuen. I accept it and don't really care because I'm going to have fun regardless.

But what triggered this epiphany? Watching Turk (Donald Faison) from Scrubs and not being able to do ANY of what he does.. at least not in the 5 minutes I allowed myself in the privacy of my own room and mirror.

Observe...

Nots

EDIT: IT IS BETTER TO KNOW WHAT YOU ARE NOT THAN WHAT YOU ARE.


I think I've come up with a good policy for evaluating and defining myself.

Instead of defining myself as a series of traits and qualities that I am, I think it's more accurate and productive to define myself as a series of 'nots.' Things I'm not, traits I don't possess, things I dislike.

I think the best example to clarify this with is relationships. My experiences have definitely showed me things I don't want in terms of circumstances, traits and quirks. Things that I know I wouldn't be able to stand or work around, deal-breakers perhaps. These are always easy to isolate and identify because they can stand alone and not be affected by other circumstances, so you can express your 'nots' with a constant accuracy. I try to steer clear of smokers, don't like long distance, and am not a big phone person; easy. Things I do like/want, however, aren't always so easily separated. I like showing affection and pet names; not very specific and always dependent on other factors.

Everyone searches for things that define us uniquely as individuals with passions, and I think the 'not' traits help towards that goal more. It is more descriptive to say that someone isn't X, Y and Z instead of saying that they only are X.

I guess the way I see me ultimately finding myself is through a gigantic process of elimination. I don't like hot weather? I don't like warm weather? I must like the cold. Repeat for all circumstances.

And now, a monkey enjoying a hot bath.

Relationships

Click to enlarge... I don't think there is a single person, male or female, that this doesn't hit a bit too close to home for. CRINGE.

Band

I've always had a musical outlet in my life. In fact, it's a big part of how I define myself. Piano, trombone (yes...), guitar, singing... one of the above has always been able to manifest itself somehow. But I dropped band in junior high, piano lessons stopped in high school and it's hard to be in a college a cappella group when you're out of college.

Aside from my passing urges to buy a bass, that kind of leaves the guitar for now, and so one of my resolutions in my year of freedom (YOF - in reference to the period of time before law school where I have no real obligations) is to improve substantially at guitar. Wes Montgomery here I come! And since I don't have the money for my beloved Les Paul, I'm determined to do it on my Ovation acoustic-electric.

It can get sort of boring, just learning, practicing and playing on your own, so I hope for a return of Sarah and the Well-Hungs this year! We had quite a few practices and jam sessions in the summer, even got offered a gig, but things happen and people get busy.

James on solo guitar, me on rhythm, Sarah on drums and Jon on yelling gibberish.

Bathroom

I thought I saw a mushroom in the toilet bowl at home today. I was pretty disgusted, but the worst part is that I wasn't even completely surprised. It turned out to be a detergent releaser that my brother had bought, which was pretty surprising for a few reasons. I've been embroiled in an extremely passive-aggressive bathroom cleaning war with my brother for the past few years, which stems from the fact that we're both too lazy to completely clean the bathroom that we share. So the fact that he's done something to benefit the both of us is puzzling... Either he's trying to usher in an era of truce or he's passively-aggressively prodding me to respond in kind.

Highlights:
-We have a towel rack next to the shower which breaks about every 2 years due to not being anchored to a stud in the wall. Last time it broke in February and he accused me of breaking it, even though I was in San Diego for the preceding months. It was broken until about July, when I finally just fixed it with drywall and paint.
-Whenever he cleans the counter/mirror, he only wipes off his side.
-The florescent light bulbs have been out/incredibly dim and flickering for the past 3 weeks, and neither of us have changed them... or even mentioned them. Which is funny because we both shower at night, and half the time I either need to re-shampoo halfway through or rinse off halfway through because I have enough foam to imitate Santa. (Though I do like that when I go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, I'm not blinded by the light.)
-Last summer, I ran an experiment on the toilet paper in the bathroom. I took 2 rolls and hid one under the sink - I used that one. I put the other roll in it's normal place on the dispenser for my brother to use: I kept running out of toilet paper when I needed it and wanted to compare the rates of usage. The results showed a rate of 2.5 rolls for my brother to 1 for me... which explained things. I understand being cautious to avoid the dreaded fingerpoke-through, but c'mon.

Infarction

"Weave bacon"... not a phrase you hear everyday. I don't know about you, but I would devour this thing whole.
7 easy steps to a heart attack!

Jobs

When I was younger I wanted to be an astronaut. I know it's a pretty generic dream, and I'm not sure how other people arrive at it, but I got there initially from my brother's influence; then I ran with it. Given the choice, I always read sci-fi books and consequently Asimov and Feynman became some of my favorite authors as a kid. My favorite merit badge as a Boy Scout was Astronomy, where my instructor took us into the mountains and woke us up at 3 AM to point out various constellations. I always wanted to go to Space Camp and spin around one in one of those human gyroscope machines. One of my old swimming teachers held his lessons in a pool right next to Moffett Field and Hangar One. I like(d) Star Trek.

It's still my ultimate dream job, even after I realized I could get motion sick even on a canoe. Hey, as long as we're dreaming, we'll just go ahead and remove my queasiness.

Another dream job that wouldn't quite work out is being a food critic. Who wouldn't like getting paid to eat and complain? But I have sort of a weak stomach, can't handle any degree of spice and am allergic to peanuts and a wide range of fruits... so there would be surprisingly many occupational hazards involved in that.

And of course being a supermodel photographer is out of the question because the models wouldn't be able to concentrate around me...

A great one that I've heard a couple of times is being some sort of host for the Travel Channel. Surely any of us could do better than Tara Reid, her horrendous boobs and IQ rivaling an eggplant's. I wouldn't necessarily want to be on TV, I would just want to be sent around the world and experience new things and cultures on someone else's tab.

But if it's a TV show, here are some working titles:
-Wild on with Pei
-Don't Offend the Natives
-Where in the World is Pei Kuo?
-What's Native For "Bathroom?"
-You do WHAT Here? (And in every episode I would say this while looking incredulously at the camera)
-Don't Ask, Just Eat It.

Origins

I used to get asked a lot how I got my start in singing, and the answer is so trite that it always makes me laugh/cringe to myself a little bit. Yes, a girl.

It was about May in 7th grade and I was fresh off the heartbreak of my first girlfriend (SARAH, WHY!?!?)... Okay, maybe 'fresh' isn't too accurate. We only lasted from about November to January, but that's a long time for a junior high relationship! (I have this theory that any pre-high school relationship, and most high school ones, should be evaluated with dog years/months/weeks/whatever in regard to their significance.) Anyway, I knew that she liked singing and was going to audition to be in the school choir next year, so it seemed like a good idea at the time to audition as well and possibly have a class with her. It was a classic case of "hoes over bros," as I was potentially abandoning the whole trombone section of the school band for this girl.

I decided on the spur of the moment, and not knowing any other song by heart, I gave a stirring rendition of "A Whole New World" for my first audition ever and spent the rest of the night anxious and restless. Unbeknownst to me, because the choir was short on guys, all I had to do was pretty much just show up and not be tonedeaf.. so I got into the choir.

A couple weeks went by in the summer without seeing her at school everyday and I got over her pretty quickly, but I stayed signed up. A few more choirs, a couple of a cappella groups and some open mics and gigs later and here we are.


After 10 years, I can sing just like this!

Pleasures

Life's little pleasures

-Wearing new socks
-Having a nice exchange with a stranger
-Stretching and feeling a pleasant soreness
-The sound of fingers sliding on guitar strings
-A bear hug
-The smell of a new pair of shoes
-Listening to the rain hit the roof and windows while you're going to sleep
-Hitting all green lights while driving
-A productive q-tip
-Being able to pick out Orion, Cassieopeia and Draco on clear nights
-Helping someone
-Waking up an hour before my alarm and realizing I can sleep a while longer
-Waking up in the morning with a huge bass range
-Smelling fresh laundry on your pillow and pillow case
-Blowing a can of compressed air and watching a huge amount of dust fly away
-Peeling a hard-boiled egg in one piece
-Being able to find good song immediately on the radio

Brainfog

In light of my insane wake up times, I've noticed that my language skills definitely take a beating in the mornings. Most popular flubs include:

1. "How are you doing?" + "How's it going?" It's like I can't make up my mind on which to say, and both come out, which results in a garbled "How irt going?" The "are" comes out really short and the "going" comes out as "goo-ing."

2. "That's great!" + "That's good!" which comes out as "That's grood!" "Grood set... form is lookin' grood."

3a. Counting difficulties. Often, I'll count reps or time out loud. The trouble area is right around 11-14, where I suspect it might have something to do with the transition from the teens. For some reason, it just doesn't register in my head, and I'll just kind of grunt to fill the counts while I find the right number. "15, 14, 13, huh, huh, huh...9?, 8."

3b. I'll zone out and just lose complete count. That's why I prefer to not do stuff in front of mirrors where they can see me, so I can just do my take my early morning stares at my own leisure. I'm getting really good at guessing what # they are at, but it doesn't matter.. turns out that people stop counting for themselves if I do it sometimes.

4. I blank on the names of machines and exercises. As I go from exercise to exercise, I like to talk about what's in store for them, and in the mornings sometimes it's just reduced to pointing. "We'll go to the uh... that machine right after we do a set of these.. one legged... deadlifts. Oh, the lat pulldown machine, I mean."

5. I forget to get the weights or equipment that we need for the exercise. We'll be on the mat about to do some ab exercise with medicine balls, and I'll take my place beside them and realize the medicine balls aren't even there. "Oh.. holdon a second."

Of course.. not all of these happen everyday..