Bongani's Boot Camp

Sadils has joined a boot camp and not wanting to be out done I decided to join a bunch of mates and go on Monday. Sadils had to work last minute so I went alone. I made my medical aid card visible to all just in case.

Bongani the instructor is built like a sprinter and has the size of melons. 

I was blown away by this guys friendliness, destroying all stereotypes of what trainers are like. As a warm up we walked around a field. We Walked. For a warrior like myself, really. Time to show all the mere mortals what I'm made of. he he he. We stepped it up a bit with some running drills. Running drills, really, that's all I talk about is running. Really. Mere mortals, hope you all watching because this is how a warrior trains. To continue with the warm ups we did some type of skipping which for those that know me you will know I have the co-ordination of a blind penut trying to escape its shell. Then again I am a warrior not a bladdy balarina, we'll let this one slide. 

Warm up complete, good I'm ready to show these mortals I can handle anything.

Think of cones set up 10m apart. Run to the first, pump your arms, second squats, third lunges, fourth burpees, fifth plank.

"15 minutes, GO!" Bongani goes from smiling fire fighter by day to stern fitness coach in a matter of seconds.

Holy (four letter word I may not publish due to the fact my Grandmother reads this blog) this is tough! I'm sure Bongani is shouting words of encouragement but all I hear is my lungs failing, heart straining under the new limits its reaching. I look across to Cands and Row, they all look fresh and have smiles on their faces. Really? I take a deep breath and act cool. All in a days work for a warrior like me. Ja right. 

Did I mention we had to do sprints after completing each circuit. Yinna.

I soon fade into the mist of pain and 15 minutes later I'm barely alive but feeling good.

It's the funny thing about exercise. You can push until you vomit and feel great afterwards, drinking is backwards.

After putting all my vital organs back down my throat I see all the mortals chatting as if nothing happened. Shit, maybe I'm delusional. Like the Luxenbourg wrestling champion who only made the Olympic team 'cos he beat his sister having to take on the Russian champion who beat half the Soviet Union and single handedly stopped the Cold War by wrestling both sides nukes back into their silo's. 

Maybe I have illusions of greatness as I haven't gone out there and competed. Spending too much time sorting my Hunger Games quick escape pack out (the dirty mags are still in their plastics so don't tell Sadie I'm in the garage looking at naughty pictures).

Wait, that's Bullshit, I rock

Something of everything

I had a good morning this morning. I went out with some British students who are doing a two week stint in "Africa". They basically just doing charity work and seeing how we do things. One of the projects they are doing is putting up a fence in a rural township. This fence is for a pre-primary school that was damaged from rain. Now when we think school we think big buildings, apples on desks, pesky teachers and sports grounds. Sadly not in this case. This is a prefab box no bigger than a shipping container. The "box" is in a families yard. Now that it has been destroyed another lady in the community has stepped in and has donated land in her own yard for the new school building. The only problem is there is no fence to keep the kids in. That's where we stepped in.

It was really nice to get out and watch people do good. There where 16 students half male half female. It was so cool to watch the enthusiasm knowing they where doing good clearing a fence line, but not knowing how to use a spade. Felt good to pass on some of the knowledge of the Snowbeast.

Back to the fitness regime. 

On Monday I went to Hiltons place for some boxing. We didn't get to klap each other but hit bags instead.

I always thought if push comes to shove i could teach that laaitie a lesson, but after seeing him smash a bag I'm glad he's my brother. He's a forced ally. Sneaky. It looks pretty easy. Just smash the bag and go mental. Unfortunately not. Not only do you punch a bag, you have to focus on form as if you hit wrong say cheers to your wrist.

Being a warrior I thought I had this but it is a crazy intensity work out. 

I felt really good the next morning and realised I am lucky the Hunger Games hasn't started yet. As muck as I think I am a warrior, I'm really ill prepared. All I have is a fast exit bag and a couple dirty mags. I'm more like a dooms day prepper minus the cases of baked beans, Why they choose beans I don't know. Living in a bunker you better not light a match or I can guarantee you'll all be crisper than a piece of bacon in a second.

Now my workouts are as distracted as my blog posts. I just realised I went from boxing to farting in a confined area in a couple of lines. I need help.

On the other hand Poodle reckons I'm the bomb. She crawled up to me in bed this morning and I put my hand down to scratch her. I felt a knot on her shoulder so I massaged it. She stood up and sat next to me as if to say, "carry on, What you looking at fatty". I started to massage again and she suddenly lost control of herself and was leaning into it to the extent I had to support her head as it was dropping all over the place.

When I was done she happily followed me around like best mates and even showed emotion as I left for work. MAN UP POODLE! Shit man, I can't go charging into the Hunger Games with a doting Poodle charging after me. Stick to the plan, you there to lure Bow and Arrow Chick into striking distance of the elusive Snowbeast then you free to go. Find a home in the wild and hunt in packs, although any animal will buckle over laughing if they saw a pack of Toy Poodles running at them. Be like being attacked in Toys R Us by the Teddies.

Hope you all have a lekker week.

Dads blog will be updated today ( www.mikefrostmtb.blogspot.com)

I also wrote an article on where to start in the art of cocktail making for www.lekkerdining.weebly.com

Reminising and a big party

My folks arrived safely back into S.A after a trek through Zimbabwe. So stoked 'cos I get to spend a weekend in Winterton. I miss the fresh air and open spaces. I feel constricted and suppressed in a city. A city is no place for a warrior, especially this one.

I once again have this urge to go out and "fetch" dinner from the wild. Like as kids we would trek up to good family friends' berg cottage and spend the weekend fly fishing for trout. We used to go up with the Greens once a month.

That is how us Humans should live. Wake up just before sunrise, one of the parents would make coffee and we'd sit outside on the verandah watching the first signs of the morning sun silhouetting the Drakensberg in a reddish pink.

Slowly the valley begins receive it's first light and the three dams at the bottom reflect the pink sky. Being twelve years old it feels great when us MEN grab our rods and head down the valley silently to stalk our prey. By mid morning we would have caught a couple Rainbow Trout and kept just enough for breakfast, releasing the rest.

It would be the job of  us younger "men" to clean the fish and throw the bits back into the water to feed the fish for next time.

The folks would stuff the empty belly with butter, onions, lemon slices and herbs and we would chuck the fish on a braai and let it cook. Now that is a breakfast for a champion in the making.

I'm either getting fit or old. Saturday night something weird possessed us and we hit the town, HARD. Wow, all I remember is constantly having a drink in my hand and somebody kept wanting to talk to me that I didn't want to talk to. The rest of the time I was being awesome.

All fun and games, but when I woke up the next morning it felt as if somebody was playing a game of tennis in my head. I was super "dizzy" when I stood up and nauseous. Yoh, I haven't hung like this ever. My eyes hurt, I was even stiff from dancing so hard. What a waste of a day. I woke up for an hour and went straight back to bed just because I couldn't take the pain of hanging. Note to self, don't get fit and go party. Shit goes downhill fast.

So much so my runs have left me smelling like a brewery.

That been said we are not going clubbing again. It's no joke I have not felt this unwarriorish in years. 

Lesson learnt, I'll running harder this week.

Oh crap, talking about this week I might have told Kelly I would join her and her friends at a boot camp. Eff, this could pose a problem. I'm still weak from Saturday night. What if i puke in front of a chick. I can't do that. I'd look weak and no longer be an alpha male. That will not happen. I think the only reason Sadie digs me is because I am an alpha male. 

We have a problem, I'm gonna stop writing and start Googling the safety issues regarding swallowing cement. That should harden me up long enough so I don't throw up. We'll worry about the rest in the morning.

Some cool reading

www.lekkerdining.weebly.com - A dinner club we started, Cands ( may I say Cands or must it be Candice?) started. Cool recipes coming

www.mikefrostmtb.blogspot.com - Dads Blog, covering his trip to Zim at the moment

www.hiltonfrost.blogspot.com - Hilts Blog - he came 3rd elite at KZN Champs this weekend.

Maybe I'm a Master Chef in hiding

I always thought I was a kick ass chef, thought I could rustle up a three course meal with a can of bully beef, beans and eggs. It was actually three meals as a student, not a three course meal. These where usually made as we got home from clubbing. Breakfast and a beer, watching the sun rise, life was easy then.

My cooking experience started late. As a boarder and a son to an amazing cook, there was never any need to cook. Only when I moved to Ixopo and the next year onto a farm by myself did I ever really have to cook for myself. I didn't do too badly and most of my experiments tasted bladdy good. 

First week I'm dating the Sadils I decide to cook her a meal. We head off to an open air market in a dodgey area of town. I buy a fish which had its head and insides removed in front of us, some tomatoes, "real gravy soaker" potatoes and some onions.

My idea was to layer potatoes at the bottom, place the fish on top and stuff it with tomatoes and onions. The potatoes should go soft and absorb all the juices and melted butter. Worked out beautifully. I tasted and plated up to my very new girlfriend. She started and slowed down very fast while I was quickly acting tidy. Wowee can Sadie talk I remember thinking. I didn't notice she wasn't eating - the sly fox.

I had a mouthful and eff! The fish was off. Honestly, it tasted like a piece of meat that had been dragged at the bottom of the Ganges River in India. I Panicked, WTF, new girlfriend and this tastes like shit. I quickly took the plate from her and went redder than my tomatoes. Thank the Pope for cities and fast foods. She ended up with a burger and chips, Bruce you romantic beast.

Watching Masterchef on PVR last night I realised man alive, maybe I'm not so hot. They gave these people a chicken, CAPERS, bone marrow, bread crumbs, some white cheese, asparagus, something I dont remember and just said "Ypur one hour starts now, cook." Yinna! They had to use Everything! I would freeze. Capers only belong on a pizza, marrow needs to be roasted and asparagus needs to be blanched and eaten with mayo. To eat them any other way is like ordering a British Racing Green Ferrari. 

I would reckon getting a couple of palookas like myself together and getting them to cook up a storm would be a helluva show. People with no clue throwing stuff together. I see the Judges life cover premiums going up. End up calling it Starvation Games, nobody will want to touch the food.

Any ways, back to the fitness thing. The running is going well, I'm running shorter distances but at a higher intensity ( basically I wobble quicker) as it gets dark towards the end of my run fast.

Sadie is running twice a day and Poodle doesn't like me too much so she spends her day chilling with Sadie. It's probably 'cos Sadie doesn't stuff socks in her mouth and place her in the wash basket. Dam traitor. If you gonna hang with a warrior expect the unexpected.

Hope you all have a great week.

50th Blog Post

Crap, have you seen the time. I have a blog post due in 2hr45min. Been pounding out Goverment tender quotes all morning and my brain is mush.

Last week I was preparing to tackle Sadie (for legal purposes I mean tackle her in a competitive non violent way) in a run.

Well, we've done one together and a few alone. To report back there was no winner. 

We started the run with a walk to warm up. Sadie got it in her mind she was an olympic power walker and I spent the first 500m trying to swallow my heart. Horrific feeling I tell you. The jog felt good and I got a good rythym. My slightly longer legs make me a little quicker and I had fun running next to her changing speeds just do make her cross. Mission successful. Klap over the head to prove it. Just before half way I decided to tease Sadie a bit, telling her she's slow and poodle could out run her. I didn't stop. Sadie got fed up and said "Catch me if you can" and BOOM, she was gone. Full on canter down Dulwitch road and up the other side. I caught up to what I thought was her because at that stage I could see stuff all. My vision had gone, my heart was in my throat and my lungs where busy collapsing. We ran side by side trying to secretly kill each other. I think our bodies synched because all of a sudden we where both walking. In unison we both glanced sideways at each other and started to Olympic power walk. I don't really know what happened from there. Stuff that was I losing to a chick and by the look on Sadies face she now reads my blog and knows somewhere on the property there are dirty magazines lurking about. Weirdest thing ever happened. We seemed to have worked out all the aggression and ended up encouraging each other. United in one goal. To get fit and funky. Shit, that's soppy!

So it's Sadies birthday tomorrow. I guess I'll buy her a cool book. That way she won't watch T.V and I can jol Xbox while she reads. That's what being a warrior is about. Being Smart.

A tradition is you have a family supper together so now I have to think of a cool meal to cook her. I don't see this as a challenge at all. I love cooking. I actually started a food blog a day before this one. I just enjoyed this one a bit more and haven't had the time to update the food blog.

If you want to send her a Happy Birthday message you can mail me bruce.supertutors@gmail.com (read that as please do so I don't get a klap over the ears) and I'll pass it on.

Something interesting. My dad has started up a blog. Yip, it's a family affair now. Just waiting for mom to start.

Dads blog is www.mikefrostmtb.blogspot.com He is currently in Zimbabwe doing a ride for Wild dog awareness. As important as saving the Rhinos are it has taken the spotlight off a lot of other endangered animals like the Wild dog. This ride isn't a sponsor me so I can go on holiday ride. My folks and the other members are paying their own way and whatever is raised is donated to the Wild dogs.

As he gets wifi he will e-mail or update his blog.

Have a great week friends. Writing this has put me in a good mood and that's why I love blogging.

Made it on time, what a warrior.

Have to Beat Sadie and buying dirty mags

Has anybody seen the date? We halfway through the year already, or somewhere around there.

Sadie and I are going for an afternoon jog this afternoon. I am NOT taking the bladdy pooches. It's too cold to stop every 5m for billy to spray whatever is fixed to the ground. Today especially they are ban. I haven't ran with Sadie in a while and I have a sneaky suspicion she is stronger than me. I think on the sly she has been training. Waiting for the day I ask her to join me on a run. Waiting to show me whose boss again and I can't lose to a chick, especially my chick. It just hammers my confidence. I can just imagine mornings in our house. Sadie: "Babe, please make me some coffee". Me: "Arguah arguah - Sleeping, tis cold". Sadie " Coffee or I'll beat you......... AGAIN". Nought, this is not happening. I will win today even if I die when I finish, I'll die a winner. 

Sport is the only way you can beat your chick.................... Legally (I pray Sadie doesn't read my blog)

Away from shallow victories and onto serious threats. Hunger Games and their timing.

So centuries ago, the Mayans made a plan that December 21 2012 the world will end and the Alpha males will fight it out to see who is superior. This superior being will carry the human race forward. Populating the world with his genetically superior genes. In a nutshell it's like Facebook friend culling, you keep the friends who post pool party pics and delete the ones who are only there to see how cool you pretend your life is on Facebook. 

So those who didn't wish me happy birthday last year, be warned, the Snowbeast is angry ;)

I am worried that the organisers of the Hunger Games can't keep time, we 6 months late. I mean Justin Bieber was 2 hours late for a UK concert and was fined thousands of Pounds and had reports written that he was going off the rails.

Poor guy, When I was thirteen I didn't even own a watch.

My Hunger Games box is growing, it now has the two dirty mags I need to distract bow and arrow chicks stalker. It was awkward  as hell buying them. I went to the mall and decided this will be the last place in hell I will buy these from. You surrounded by decent people doing their own thing and the minute you touch them the mall goes quiet, everything goes in slow motion and everybody stares at you like you walking around with a dead raccoon in your hands. So I went to a place of ill repute. I charged in and placed my cash on the table and blurted out. "Two dirty mags please". The salesman pointed towards racks and racks of these things. The choice was mind blowing. So to skip the details I picked up two with people on the cover who look similar to Bow and Arrow chick. If I'm going to drive a wedge in this mans side I'm going to make sure it hurts...... A LOT.

My mind is now scarred. I have left the mags in their plastic sheets just in case Sadils finds them. I'll have more of a leg to stand on if they sealed - I hope.

Cheers 

Dirty mags and Kids

Right, so exams are over and it's time to start blogging again.

Much better than exams in my humble opinion.

Back to the immanent threat of The Hunger Games. Chatting to a mate I have one problem. What if they throw me into the gauntlet with kids like Rue from the Hunger Games? Yinna, I'm a warrior but not a murderer. Maybe I'll take some chloroform with me. Like the old pick up line, (presenting a hankie from your pocket) "excuse me miss, does this smell like chloroform to you". It's a knock out. 

So the kids will get chloroformed and removed to a safe place. Maybe I'll chain them to the kitchen and when I get back to my cave after a successful day of hunger gaming the little tykes will have a meal prepared form me. Dam straight, that is how a snowbeast rolls. BOOM!!

Wait, what if the little shits conspire to kill me and poison my food. Crap, I didn't think of that. I might have to cut their tongues out and remove any limbs they don't need. 

Whoah, maybe a little excessive considering I am trying not to hurt a little kiddie.

I'll come back to this thought, I hope I have time to sort it out before a face bow and arrow chick and her little side kick.

As for her lover, He seems a little desperate. Chasing her around like a lost puppy. I think what nobody realises is he's secretly trying to see where she's showering. Thinking with the wrong head mate! I'll throw some dirty mags out and bop him on the head as he picks them up. Problem solved. 

Where do i get these mags and how? If Sadils sees my card statement or finds whats really in my Hunger Games stash she might send me to a quack to sort my Alpha male brain out. 

Imagine walking into the garage and finding a back pack with a bushman bow and arrow, two butcher knives her Granddad used to own, matches, a tent and a bunch of dirty mags. Yinna, I'll get the frying pan.......... AGAIN.

The Poodle reckons we mates now. It's partially 'cos Charmaine  gave her a haircut and Sadie is insisting on tying a triangular scarf on her so she looks country and western. Poor thing, comes with it's tail between it's legs and looks at me like I'm the only normal thing in the household. I'll take her on my side, for one reason. Chicks dig Poodles. I'll set her free around bow and arrow chick and when she bends over to pick the bladdy thing up, BAM, she gets it. 

Hope you all have a great day......