There are two types of athletes in my universe: those who play team sports, and those who don't rely on others to succeed or fail. Jaron and I were the latter. Thank goodness the statute of limitations on coach beat downs have expired, because for most of my athletic career the only competitor I really raced was the stopwatch. "We live and we die by time, and we must not commit the sin of turning our back on time."
Don't get me wrong, I love training with others. The shared struggle of competitive training. Mingling in the common ground of human endurance. Complaining that we did more before six a.m. than most Americans did in a lifetime. All great things. And it helped me through many a long, grueling work out. But when it came to racing... relay events were the closest thing I ever wanted to get to a team effort. Working out for twenty-two weeks to light up the clock and shave off a few seconds toward personal glory did me just right. The blunt skulls can keep their shared purpose.
So it makes completely no sense why Jaron and I have dropped our standards and are going second class to become teammates. Our hypocrisy knows no limits. We are teaming up to combine our weight loss results to lose 40 pounds by April 1st.
WARNING! Pending cliche... There is no "I" in "TEAM". A mantra of high school coaches and bush-league sales managers stretching back to the early 1960's. Jaron and I are no different. Our results directly impact the overall success of the goal. But in no way would the green ribbon hordes ever allow for negative impact. It's one thing to lose a game -- it's a totally different thing to have points taken away and your family's good name drug through the mud. Jaron and I are on a positive loss (7.7 lbs in two weeks), which we celebrate in the same vein as our blogging... in spite of the audience's validation. However, we accept the possibility of sliding backwards. I'm not suggesting we will ever go into negative numbers and cause a complete melt down of Body by Jaron. What I am saying, we accept Jaron's weight lifting could net gain a few pounds while my fat boy past has the real possibility of sneaking in and returning a few previously deleted pounds.
I too, have always been self reliant in my training. Having to carry the load of a teammate has never interested me. That said, Ole JT is a mighty fine teammate. I've accepted the notion that a shared struggle can be mutually beneficial. In the weeks that I have neglected my duties as a commenter on the blog, I have started to worry about the Jarvis pick up. He's a wild card, that one. The 40 pounds is looking shaky. I cannot physically do more than about 27 on my own, which would be remarkable if I pull it off. Leaving 13 for ole boy. He's never let me down in this process, so I am holding out hope. I am transitioning us from a muscle building phase to a straight fat loss program. Best I can measure with inferior equipment, I have put on 5-6 pounds of muscle in this last phase, making my goal 5-6 pounds heavier than when we came up with this cockamamie challenge. I have begun carb cycling, which blog devotees may recall gave Ole JT the figurative DT's and night terrors back in 2012. But damn is it effective! Booze consumption is nominal, which may cause me the actual DT's. I'd cut it out all together, but I'm afraid if I stop all at once, the cumulative hangover will literally kill me! I'll leave the reporting of numbers to Jarvis and the next post, but for my part, I am making progress, and only marginally off the pace I need to hit my 27. The final two weeks will be pivotal. We will pull out all the stops with circuit training and cardio intervals leading up the the reconning of April Fool's Day. The big four oh. Shoot me now...
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