Throwdown at Monterey

Last night my wife and I took part in a throw down of sorts with CrossFit Salinas Valley hosted by CrossFit Monterey. Three WODs followed by a good time with BBQ and adult beverages.

WOD one was a 3RM back squat. I laid up a light 235. THat was pretty cheesy of me, I know. My back squats need to get more attention and more weight.

WOD two was a two man effort of sand bag hill sprints and 5 185 lb cleans, my partner wasn't able to RX it, so we went at 165. Cleans were the chink in his armor, and he only finished the first round of three at 160, the others were 145 and 135. He showed a lot of heart throwing himself under a very heavy weight and we had a good time.

WOD three was a four man fire team event. 100 reps of four out of five elements of Fight Gone Bad, for time. One person exercises at a time. WE rocketed through it a a team. I tried to finish up as many reps of as many things as I could, as usual wallball was my archnemesis.

Tomorrow I'll be calling Casey R. from CF Fort Meade for Another Crossfitter's POV, part II. Check it out.

Path to Black belt

Today I started on the final steps towards my black belt as a Marine Corps Martial Arts Instructor. Marines at NPS plan classes around each quarter. It gives you the opportunity to go through from grey belt to black belt if you pursue the next belt each quarter the entire time you are here.

Although I'm not sure I feel good about this type of pursuit of belts, I do know I am happy to get back to training again. We'll meet once a week for a four hour session of sustainment teaching and integration of techniques.

It has been since spring of 2009 since I taught a MCMAP class, but it was like getting back on a bike.

This quarter I will be worried more about reviewing my brown belt and lower techniques. Next quarter I will commit to learning and graduating as a black belt MCMAP Instructor.

I do know it's about damn time.

Another week into the fire...

So you want to get a funded education? Better be ready for lots of classroom hours, studying... and boredom.

Yeah, boredom. It happens. The 'routine is the enemy', that was one of the lines that caught my eye so long ago when I first read "World Class Fitness in 100 Words" by Greg Glassman. I've done a linear strength progression for about 6 weeks, and unsurprisingly I am not as enthusiastic about it now as when I started.

So I start finding ways around the program.

Man, I'm tired today, shouldn't do the presses at the end....
Front squats, damn--I gotta take a dump...
Back squats? are you shitting me?

There's been no end to it, after week four (or maybe it was mid week four) I wasn't that enamored with getting under the barbell. The routine became the enemy instead of becoming my friend as I'd hoped it would.

So, another review is in order, and some variety.

Today I did a 7am WOD:
15 minute AMRAP
10 KTEs
10 Presses 115 (dropped to 95 after rd 1)
10 Air Squats

I managed 5 rds, plus 10 plus 6.
It felt very good to be off the routine.

Oly Lifting program re-eval

Tday, between Info Science for DoD and Algebra/Trig review:

W/U:500m row, pass throughs, wide grip deadhang pull ups, ring dips, box step up/squat combo
Snatch: 95,105,115,125,135,140,145,150,155,160FLx2
C&J:135x2,165,175,185 then had to jet due to aforementioned algebra.

Time just isn't there to work up to a max snatch and a max c&j between classes.
Got to re-evaluate and get back into a routine.

On another note, applied to formally become a military affiliate of CF Inc.

How great I am.

Just a quick Happy Birthday to my Dad, Rich Hoffner. Retired Cheltenham P.D. Detective, former Coast Guard Petty Officer and all around great American. Through his hard work and character he taught me many lessons, even when I didn't want to hear them, even when he didn't know he was teaching them.

Happy Birthday Dad, I love you.

A week in review

Week six of the Olympic Weightlifting days.

Started off with the first days of lifting in our new garage gym, pictures to follow. Jacob, Mariah and Nathan from CF Monterey joined Tiffany and me for a few hours of lifting followed by a simple BBQ.  Tiffany made some amazing guacamole and bbq sauce from scratch, check that and her other creations out at www.thecavegirldish.com.

July 4th: Snatch max was 160 (new personal best), worked up to 190 on C&J.  It was one of those days where that just felt really heavy, maybe from all the misses on the snatch (hit all of my last 4 lifts on third attempts.)

July 6th: AM Snatch volume, warmed up and worked up to 10 singles at 130. This was a first, as I haven't PRed my snatch in awhile and it felt really good.  Landing tight, pulling just enough, I may not be extending fully though.
PM WOD: 3 rds of 2 dumbell split cleans (alt legs), 4 db push press, 8 db push jerks, 16 double unders RXed in 8:10 with 55lb dumbells.

July 7th: Clean and Jerk volume, warmed up, worked up and did 10 singles at 165.  This was a bit over what I should be hitting on a volume day.  Haven't PRed in a while on C&J so I upped it to BW, only 5lbs but I thought it may help.  Had a few reps Tiff said weren't fully extending, power cleaning more or less.  Need focus and practice as well as fast hips getting under the bar.

July 8th: Maxed both SN and CJ.  Snatch, worked up to 145 successfully, failed 155 repeatedly.  C&J, worked up to 195 successfully, failed 205 four times.
Wish I had some video of that to anayze, I'll think of that next time.

Overall the weightlifting is fun enough

Many things happening in many days

Been about two weeks since my last post.  So much time, so few pounds added to my snatch.  Actually, I've added another 5 lbs to my snatch, current PR is 160, up 20 lbs since getting here which isn't too shabby.

So as to my many posts, there haven't really been many. 

We moved into a new house and I created a kick-ass garage gym.  Two care garage with about 9 foot ceilings, enough for snatches and presses for anyone my height easily.  Cement floor (so far) to support dropping of weight.

Right now it's as set up as I planned for this point, but there will be more progress later.  A little bit of flooring or a lifting platform would help, and place to hang rings and maybe a rope are in order.  Time will tell.

Checked in today.

Why does it all fall to $h#t?!?!

One would imagine that the intent and focus I described in my last post would indicate how nothing would stand between me and my goals.  Nothing except I conspiracy of time and all elements of life.  Today is the last day of the most extended period of leave of my entire 17 year Marine Corps career.  This long period of 'inactivity' has provided me some of the most dedicated training time I've ever known as a CrossFitter, which is ironic considering I've hardly done any CrossFit in this time.  All the weightlifting has been a great experience though, don't get me wrong.


Now, will I be able to push the gains I've got going in this regard?
Will I make my aforementioned goals in ~10 days time?

Rather than lose ground or plateau due to the return to a regular work schedule it is time to reign in my other pursuits, and use the time more wisely. The next few days will determine the next two years in many ways and I will not allow myself to lose sight of any of the goals I've set. 

Patience and white noise

There's a very clear reason people follow linear progressions for strength training--they work.

For several weeks I've followed an Olympic Weightlifting progression with very good results in both the snatch and clean & jerk numbers. After just this three weeks I am experiencing firsthand the 'drive' that is essential to create powerful weightlifters. Overall I do know that I want the health and fitness benefits conveyed from the time spend jumping and landing with the barbell. And I see that linear progression training for strength and power may not actually be such a bad idea... in moderation. There also seems to be more benefit to progressive, unrelenting pursuit of known and knowable goals than I previously believed.

Coming into this I was hopeful yet skeptical.  Nevertheless I set some very high goals (BW snatch and 225 C&J) for myself to attain by 4th of July weekend. The first three weeks have shown a gain of 15lbs in the snatch and 10lbs in the clean and jerk.  Will I make the goals? I'll do the work, we'll see about the weight. But there's more to weightlifting than just the weight.

30 days and 30 nights

Yesterday I spoke to my wife about this little web presence. Rather, my total lack of commitment to this web presence. There's a definite pattern. Man blogs, man slacks off on blogging, man returns to blog to blog about slacking on blogging.

We've moved again, this time to a very anti-climatic Central California Coast. Summer here is like, well, it's like fall anywhere else we've been, and winter in some parts of the south. Add to that a month long stay in a hotel before our house is ready and so far it hasn't made for the best change of climate from sunny SoCal.

At least the traffic is... well, there isn't any. At least there's that.

There it goes again.

Just when I thought I'd get back on the blog train to happyville.... BOOM. Another period devoid of writing anything. What's a Crossfitting, paleo eating, happily married Marine Officer to do? I guess my expectations are unrealistic. This little thing of mine is supposed to be a labor saving labor of love. A workout logbook to prevent me from keeping a workout logbook. But whenever I reassert my intent to resume writing I once again backslide into silence.

Lots of walking.
The dogs have appreciated it and I've made the time now that I'm at home with all the post deployed leave. After reading De Vany's new book I took to the idea of tking ramblin walks. Since the pooches need the exercise and i enjoy the contemplative time we take half hour walks and I'm tryig to condition them to even longer walks.

Reading.
I cracked the books and finished The Paleolithic Solution by Robb Wolf and The New Evolution Diet by Art De Vany. Now I'm reading Lights Out: Sleep, Sugar and Survival by T.S. Wiley. Reading may not be a WOD but it's been refreshing the roots of the tree if you'll allow me the romantic allusion. I'd be better off getting my head caged right than getting into my squat cage.

Love and Marriage.
I heard a trite but true turn of a phrase: happy wife, happy life. This isn't about me and my tranquility though. My life has been incredible blessed by a wonderful woman. So whatever we can do together, we do. This simple life hack has created more peace of mind, has assisted my transition back to 'real life' and led to more incredible memories for both of us.

Next?
We move, live, work, run, lift, love and eat. More barbells, fear, joy and bacon. Who knows if I can actually get through a linear back squat program or ever press 200 lbs.

But I will keep doing work.

Need to dial it in.

How much does a program matter?

I'd like to go back to throwing down at anything without ryhme or reason. To my dismay I've had more than a little trouble getting my head in he game without a plan. It's been a month since I left Afghanistan and CF LNK. Without the very static routine over there I have not been able to fix my sights on a program. Cut loose and goin off CFOC 'programming' I do not feel like I'm getting my best work done.

This will have to change.

Today I rearranged the garage gym. Didn't really work out but I did set up a sound system.

Immediate Goal: Do squats tomorrow morning.

Midterm Goal: Write a 30 day program.

100 OHS for time

95lbs OHS, 100 reps with ten burpees every time you came out of the OHS.
I did 25, 10, 15, 20, 15, & 15. So I added 50 burpees.
10:16 rx'd

Oly Fridays and two a days

I started a CF LNK Team training blog. It may wind up just being my blog, but who knows.

http://cflnktrainsforthegames.blogspot.com

Kind of simple really.

Yesterday we went to the gym twice.
WOD#1.
5 rounds, for time
15 med ball cleans
15 wall balls, 10 ft target
20#ball
9:06

In the evening we went and did an Oly Lifting day, working on the hang clean for heavy singles, then the full squat clean.
I missed a new 5# PR, and ended up only finishing 5# shy of my previous PR at 185. I lot of work on getting fast in the middle. I need to follow up and stay active in pursueing my Oly Lift goals. Yesterday was my first serious attempt at Oly Lifting since December.

No more excuse making. Every day. Pursue excellence.

Home.

It's very good to be here.

"DT"
DNF in round four with 2 push jerks to go.
Rx'ed.

Shoulder tweaked on rep 4. Put the bar down, stripped the weight and walked away.

This can be very challenging to do. But sometimes you have to be able to walk away from the bar.

Do work & have fun

Watching UFC 128 in Manas, Kyrgyzstan.

Last night/this AM I did hit rhe gym. Something about watching all these servicemembers who DIDN'T serve a year in Afghanistan be allowed two beers a night while we aren't makes me want to go throw heavy shit around. Nothing quite like treating returning veterans like toddlers based on the actions of one.

At least the fights are on here.

Last night:
Warm ups: L pull ups, dB cleans, toes to bar, turkish get ups, double unders.
WOD:
hang power cleans 3,3,3,3,3 115 to 185
Good mornings & knees to elbows: 3 sets of 10 135-155
Behind the neck push jerk: 3,3,3,3,3 135-175
Cooldown:
6 laps of the gym farmers walk w/2x 24kg KB
5 rds: 20 double unders, 10 back ext, 10 ghd sit ups
Worked with a small med ball, push press/throw & catch as high as I could for awhile on each hand
Worked some box jumps and single leg box jumps
Finisher:
6,5,4,3,2,1 rep rds of ring dips, L pull ups & 32kg Kb swings

"A Message to Garcia"

I've quoted this for years...

A MESSAGE TO GARCIA
written by Elbert Hubbard
February 22, 1899


In all this Cuban business there is one man stands out on the horizon of my memory like Mars at perihelion. When war broke out between Spain and the United States, it was very necessary to communicate quickly with the leader of the Insurgents. Garcia was somewhere in the mountain fastnesses of Cuba – no one knew where. No mail or telegraph could reach him. The President must secure his co-operation, and quickly.


What to do!


Someone said to the President, “There’s a fellow by the name of Rowan will find Garcia for you, if anybody can.”


Rowan was sent for and given a letter to be delivered to Garcia. How “the fellow by name of Rowan” took the letter, sealed it up in an oil-skin pouch, strapped it over his heart, in four days landed by night off the coast of Cuba from an open boat, disappeared into the jungle, and in three weeks came out on the other side of the island, having traversed a hostile country on foot, and having delivered his letter to Garcia, are things I have no special desire now to tell in detail.


The point I wish to make is this: McKinley gave Rowan a letter to be delivered to Garcia; Rowan took the letter and did not ask, “Where is he at?” By the Eternal! There is a man whose form should be cast in deathless bronze and the statue placed in every college in the land. It is not book-learning young men need, nor instruction about this or that, but a stiffening of the vertebrae which will cause them to be loyal to a trust, to act promptly, concentrate their energies; do the thing – “carry a message to Garcia!”


General Garcia is dead now, but there are other Garcias.


No man, who has endeavored to carry out an enterprise where many hands were needed, but has been well-nigh appalled at times by the imbecility of the average man – the inability or unwillingness to concentrate on a thing and do it. Slipshod assistance, foolish inattention, dowdy indifferece, and half-hearted work seem to be the rule; and no man succeeds, unless by hook or crook, or threat, he forces or bribes other men to assist him; or mayhap, God in His goodness performs a miracle, and sends him an Angel of Light for an assistant. You, reader, put this matter to a test: You are sitting now in your office -six clerks are within your call. Summon any one and make this request: “Please look in the encyclopedia and make a brief memorandum for me concerning the life of Corregio.”


Will the clerk quietly say, “Yes, sir,” and go do the task?

On your life, he will not. He will look at you out of a fishy eye, and ask one or more of the following questions:

Who was he?

Which encyclopedia?

Where is the encyclopedia?

Was I hired for that?

Don’t you mean Bismarck?

What’s the matter with Charlie doing it?

Is he dead?

Is there any hurry?

Shan’t I bring you the book and let you look it up yourself?

What do you want to know for?


And I will lay you ten to one that after you have answered the questions, and explained how to find the information, and why you want it, the clerk will go off and get one of the other clerks to help him find Garcia – and then come back and tell you there is no such man. Of course I may lose my bet, but according to the Law of Average, I will not.


Now if you are wise you will not bother to explain to your “assistant” that Corregio is indexed under the C’s, not in the K’s, but you will smile sweetly and say, “Never mind,” and go look it up yourself.


And this incapacity for independent action, this moral stupidity, this infirmity of the will, this unwillingness to cheerfully catch hold and lift, are the things that put pure socialism so far into the future. If men will not act for themselves, what will they do when the benefit of their effort is for all? A first mate with knotted club seems necessary; and the dread of getting “the bounce” Saturday night holds many a worker in his place.


Advertise for a stenographer, and nine times out of ten who apply can neither spell nor punctuate – and do not think it necessary to.

Can such a one write a letter to Garcia?

“You see that bookkeeper,” said the foreman to me in a large factory.

“Yes, what about him?”

“Well, he’s a fine accountant, but if I’d send him to town on an errand, he might accomplish the errand all right, and, on the other hand, might stop at four saloons on the way, and when he got to Main Street, would forget what he had been sent for.”


Can such a man be entrusted to carry a message to Garcia?


We have recently been hearing much maudlin sympathy expressed for the “down-trodden denizen of the sweat shop” and the “homeless wanderer searching for honest employment,” and with it all often go many hard words for the men in power.


Nothing is said about the employer who grows old before his time in a vain attempt to get frowsy ne’er-do-wells to do intelligent work; and his long patient striving with “help” that does nothing but loaf when his back is turned. In every store and factory there is a constant weeding-out process going on. The employer is constantly sending away “help” that have shown their incapacity to further the interests of the business, and others are being taken on. No matter how good times are, this sorting continues, only if times are hard and work is scarce, this sorting is done finer – but out and forever out, the incompetent and unworthy go. It is the survival of the fittest. self-interest prompts every employer to keep the best-those who can carry a message to Garcia.


I know one man of really brilliant parts who has not the ability to manage a business of his own, and yet who is absolutely worthless to anyone else, because he carries with him constantly the insane suspicion that his employer is oppressing, or intending to oppress, him. He can not give orders, and he will not receive them. Should a message be given him to take to Garcia, his answer would probably be, “Take it yourself.


Tonight this man walks the streets looking for work, the wind whistling through his threadbare coat. No one who knows him dare employ him, for he is a regular firebrand of discontent. He is impervious to reason, and the only thing that can impress him is the toe of a thick-soled No. 9 boot.


Of course I know that one so morally deformed is no less to be pitied than a physical cripple; but in your pitying, let us drop a tear, too, for the men who are striving to carry on a great enterprise, whose working hours are not limited by the whistle, and whose hair is fast turning white through the struggle to hold the line in dowdy indifference, slipshod imbecility, and the heartless ingratitude which, but for their enterprise, would be both hungry and homeless.


Have I put the matter too strongly? Possibly I have; but when all the world has gone a-slumming I wish to speak a word of sympathy for the man who succeeds – the man who, against great odds, has directed the efforts of others, and, having succeeded, finds there’s nothing in it: nothing but bare board and clothes.


I have carried a dinner-pail and worked for a day’s wages, and I have also been an employer of labor, and I know there is something to be said on both sides. There is no excellence, per se, in poverty; rags are no recommendation; and all employers are not rapacious and high-handed, any more than all poor men are virtuous.


My heart goes out to the man who does his work when the “boss” is away, as well as when he is home. And the man who, when given a letter for Garcia, quietly takes the missive, without asking any idiotic questions, and with no lurking intention of chucking it into the nearest sewer, or of doing aught else but deliver it, never gets “laid off,” nor has to go on strike for higher wages. Civilization is one long anxious search for just such individuals. Anything such a man asks will be granted; his kind is so rare that no employer can afford to let him go. He is wanted every city, town, and village – in every office, shop, store and factory. The world cries out for such; he is needed, and needed badly – the man who can carry a message to Garcia.
_____

Clowns to left, jokers to the right...

Here I am. Stuck in the middle of Kabul again...

I've got to get control of things again, but where do you begin? My days have been as busy as a crack smoking hamster for eleven months now. One would think that I could keep track of as little a thing as my daily WOD. But without going to far down the path toward self pity, I've had other shit on my mind.

So, what now Johnboy?

Now I get ahold of things, I start blogging my WODs, my goals, my failures all for the world to see. Stuck in Kabul waiting for another middle if the night flight seems like just as good anplace to start as anywhere.

Sunday warmly first day up here. We'd spent the night before and half the day winding our way from Leatherneck to Kandahar. Aftermall the sleeping on floors, dragging my pack from here to there and sitting in jump seats I just needed to stretch myself out.
WOD: random shizzz
500m row, then six rounds of six exercises, ended with another 500m rowmto cooldown
Exercises: pull ups, dips, good mornings, hip extensions, gHD sit ups, hang power clean & push press.

Monday was the first and only full day of the conference. The sky got gray and bleak. Aftermanother sedentary day I found my way to the gym again.
1000m row followed by 2 rounds if the CF warm up.
Strength/power: 5x5 burpee/squat clean/thrusters with a pair of 35lb dumbells.
WOD: 12-6-3 rep rounds, for time, 115lb OHS & KTEs. Done in 3:15
Feeling a bit froggy I did 5x5 L-pull ups, ten sets if two HSPU and then 3x3 weighted dips, maxed and pR'ed at 100lbs x3.

Tuesday the conference ended early in the day. Despite a light rain and a desire to sleep I pulled it together for a frankly session.
Warmed up w/2x CF warm up
For the WOD I took a page from Westside barbell and did a dynamic effort day on deadlifts. Form was sumo stance and grip was narrow and alternating, for just a touch of variety I used 25lb steel plates to make the pull from the floor that much longer.
The goal was max speed on each lift, hitting 2 on the minute for 12 rounds.
I finished, and again in the manner if Westside, did 100x85lb good mornings so as to try out the assistance work theory they use to such success.

Now I wait to get out of dodge, and hope that the snow fallingoutside does not brew up into a storm that keeps us here. I've got days to go and work left to do. Another night here won't do me any good.

As to the blog,'let's hope I can keep posting without excuse. I've got some more goals to hit, excuses won't get them done.

Paleo Deployment Menu

Up and moving in the cold dark morning, mumbling and grumbling to the shower trailer—eeeiiiich no hot water again—I shave my mug, put on the uniform, grab my weapon and head to work. Sometimes I get to use Skype to talk to the loving cave girl back home, sometimes not. So begins another day of the 375 all told that I’ll spend on the main forward operating base of the First Marine Expeditionary Force (Forward) in Afghanistan.

Ever since Ogg first whacked Nogg on the back of a head with a rock, or sharpened a stick and poked him in the guts man has had to go forth and do battle with his fellow man—or provide a peacekeeping force to keep Nogg from killing some cave kids. Either way it was much different back then. Our caveman ancestors wouldn’t have waged war like this. I don’t think any of our ancestors would have recognized what they call the “food” which gets me through my day either. Each day I struggle to be a Paleo eater and get through another day. There’s little choice. It’s a combat zone. So what do I do? That’s what this little blurb is about.

{insert read more tab}

I’m at work for about an hour before I go hit breakfast, which is my most Paleo meal of the day. The big FOB I am on has a short order line for omlettes and eggs to order. It’s a blessing I didn’t have in my first few deployments. Although you’ve got to get your yolks cooked through you should just be thankful for the fresh eggs, unless you’re really militant about getting eggs over easy. Even thought I have no way of knowing if they’re organic or Omega-3 enriched these eggs don’t resemble US store bought eggs; the yolks are bright orange and the look incredibly rich. “Four eggs over”, I say it so much that my ‘Egg Guy’ sees me coming and doesn’t even wait for me to ask, he just pours out four and I move on to the fast lane to get a plate and meats. I go for the pork and beef sausage when they have it or turkey bacon if they don’t. Sue me, but I get those with a few pieces of pork bacon on the side. Fill the plate with cucumbers and carrots liberally drizzled with olive oil and black coffee and that’s the first meal of the day.

Having mentioned I’m an over privileged FOB dweller I won’t bore you with the many chores and tasks making up the daily grind. Just suffice to say I’m in and out of meetings, huddles, board, working groups and staff actions all day. Don’t ask me the difference between any of those by the way—I don’t know. But I know that right before my 1200 daily staff meeting it is snack time. Snack time means a convenient meal replacement bar of some kind, also a kindness from home and the loving cave girl I’m missing so much. Power Crunch, Detour bars, Paleo Krunch bars, these have all had their place in snack time, but snack time is a must. Paleo?—probably not, but I’ll take the gluten hit and sugar bombs as a cost of doing business.

Directly after the meeting I sprint like kids leaving schools for the summertime break directly out to the CrossFit Leatherneck affiliate area to do a mid-day WOD. Snack time puts enough gas in the tank to get me through it. Right after the WOD I’m back at my desk nom-noming my way through a Primal Pac or a Paleo Kit, loving the grass fed deliciousness and usually adding a banana or some other fresher fruit which I’ve brought back to work after breakfast.

Good eating can rely heavily on being a creature of habit, and luckily we’ve got the same dinner menu, week in-week out:

• Sunday—steaks being barbequed all afternoon for dinner making a meat-cloud that you could follow from anywhere on base to the chow hall. Add cabbage, spinach or lettuce some shredded peppers and drizzle with olive oil to please the palate.

• Monday, not a good night—pasta bar. I stick to the peripheries, maybe grab two burger patties or lunchmeat and make my salad and move on.

• Tuesday is Oriental bar, though why they try to feed us rugs I have no idea. Same thing there, avoid the rice and heavy sauces I go to the short order and get a meat source sans cheese and make my salad once again.

• Wednesday is seafood night, so if I see food, I eat it, in this case there’s usually seafood neuberg loaded with shrimp crab and indistinguishable fishiness. It has a cream based sauce and I'm sure it's loaded with gluten but it’s delish so I get a good deal of it. I also make concessions for the ‘bang-bang’ shrimp or “BANG!BANG!” as we yell when asking for it is fired shrimp covered in spicy sauce. I don’t want to know what’s in it and I know I’ll crave it from a long time once I’m gone.

• Thursday is a slice of heaven we know as ‘fake mongolian’. Once upon a time they allowed us to do real Mongolian BBQ but the lines would go out the door as each person got to pile up cabbage, rice, beef, and chicken and then spice/sauce it themselves. It was deployed Paleo food from the gods. But the lines were too much for the masses and the complaints poured in—despite its being worth the wait. Now we get premade meat and veggies available in beef, chicken, seafood and pork. I usually get all four selections without rice, which always amazes our Nepali chow hall crew. Eat big to lift big is what I tell them, but I don’t think they get me. Namaste, my chow hall friends, and check out 70sbig.com!

• Friday, of all things to rub in that we are not in the US of A, is wing night. There we go again with a burger or turkey salad bar delight and if I’m feeling froggy it’s meat for dessert with a bowl full of spicy wings to make my night—even without the beer I’d like to go with them.

• Our week ends or repeats itself (depending on who you ask) with Saturday and Indian Bar, aka Curry night. I find it insulting that we call it Indian Bar since our chow hall workers are mainly from Nepal, but they make the most wonderful curry so I really couldn’t care what they call it. Admittedly they also make lacha parotha, a fried doughy flat bread to soak up the curry goodness. I look forward to the curry all week here.

It’s all I can do to eat enough meat and vegetables, nuts seeds and fruit to keep all the bad stuff away. The military industrial machine brings us sodas and juices, cookies, cakes, pies and ice cream most days and nights of the week. Many of us fall prey to the bright and shiny sugar filled happiness offered by these plated parasites all too often. Even though I do my best to eat as close to the Paleo guidelines as possible there are just so many the concessions made due to food quality available and so many pitfalls pushed into my face day in day out of the deployment that it’s hard to even stay on the 80/20 path these days.

Since I’m not stuck in a combat outpost eating tray rations and MREs I really don’t have a thing to complain about, but I digress. With 59 days to go all I’ve got to do is focus. And in the words of Jules from the end of the movie Pulp Fiction, “I’m trying, Ringo, I’m trying real hard…”