Another Step on the Quest for 4 Wheels

I deadlifted again Tuesday, and just barely... BARELY didn't make 5 reps at 180kg. The temptation to count the last rep and decalre victory is high, but the bar was ripping out of my hand so I couldn't achieve full lockout.

Having smallish hands really hurts my grip strength, I think I might actually have to start working on it specifically. I feel right now this is the major limiting point in my deadlifts.

Here is the video:

If I Make It Out Alive

Update: The rental office was closed and I didn't have any equipment to play. I should get another chance to play soon though.

I just accepted an invite to go play bandy tonight. It is a Scandinavian sport similar to ice hockey, but played on a giant rink with no boards.

I'll take pictures and post about the little adventure. If I survive. Meanwhile, enjoy this youtube clip!

Sledding, Singing, and Slipping

Winter is upon us. I know this because I slipped and fell on my ass yesterday. A woman was walking right next to me, and her hand flew to her mouth with a gasp. Apparently I hit the ground pretty hard, anyone reading this knows how much and how well I fall so obviously I am fine. The sidewalks are absolutely caked in ice at all times, I don't think they've heard of road salt in this country.

I briefly mentioned I was going sledding in Korken the other day before I went. Let me just say it is some of the most fun I have ever had in my life. Flying down a luge track on metal skis is exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time. This is the kind of thing they'd NEVER have in the states due to liability. There are sheer drops, trees, and fences all down the 3 kilometer track. Yes you heard that right, the sled track is 3 KILOMETERS long. Surprising no one that knows me, I went kamikazee down the track: falling off the side several times, completely breaking a fence, smashing into a tree stop and going over it face first, and finally cascading into a jutting rock flying off the sled tumbling end over end. I love spectacular crashes, it is how I'd like to go out at 102.

This fun filled evening nearly didn't occur when we arrived to find the sled rental office closed. Luckily there was more than one way to get ahold of those little metal speed demons. For a while there we thought we might all have to take turns on Maria's sled, which was quite fancy, it even came with a steering wheel. Too much control though, how are you supposed to wipe out in style if you have the ability to actually guide the sled. BORING! A fifteen or so minute hike later and we had our sleds.

After the 2nd or third run we stopped off the side of the track for some snow gløgg. Martin built a fire so we all gathered around warming up, and melting snow to mix the drink. It is basically a form of mulled wine we made from a syrup mix, snow, and a little vodka. This inevitably brought up discussions of going on a friday not rather than a Wednsday, building camp site, a huge fire, and getting completely shit faced. What I am curious about is just how badly I would hurt myself sledding wasted.

The night wrapped up after a couple more trips down. The sleds returned we hopped the train home. This is when the freezing started to set in. We were all cold and wet. Carola took her socks off and her feet were completely white. Chris ended up sitting on the for warmth, the fart jokes quickly followed. I, stupidly, wore jeans and sneakers, both of which were soaking wet. Sitting on the train, not moving around meant that my body wasn't producing any heat, this is when the shivering started. It was ridiculous, I felt like I was sitting on a belt sander. Finally I had to get up and start walking around. I am fortunate hypothermia didn't set in. Lesson for the future... wear waterproof pants.


Friday night was Elisabeth's Julekonsert, a christmas time chorus concert that took place in the church of a mental institution. That last part is especially badass. I met Julie there, and was slightly late. I swear this time it wasn't my fault, I had to wait almost half an hour for the 19 bus. I also found out I prefer chorus in Norwegian and Latin, when you don't understand the words you appreciate the human voice as an instrument more. The singing was fantastic, congratulations on a wonderful show Elisabeth!

I had an iPod scare. I was at the gym when it suddenly stopped working. Luckily a simple reset fixed it without any problems. I would have been very upset if it was compeltely broken. My Mother gave me that iPod.

So Close, Yet So Far

Quick update today about lifting.

I went for a PR(Personal Record) of 180 KG (397 pounds) for 5 reps today. 180kg has been my deadlift goal, and is a number I was hoping to hit by the end of the year. It looks like I should be able to lift it soon even though I only got 3 up.

180kg is important because it marks a 4th "wheel", or 4 of the large plates on either side of the bar (8 total). Also I put on another 2.5kg somehow and am tipping the scales at 106.5kg(235lbs) now. That means I've gained close to 40 pounds in only 3 months without going up even a single belt loop.

Below is a video of the failure.

Give Me the Gold

I'll blog more, I promise. I am a little surprised by the number of people that have scolded me for not posting anything in two months. But this marks a paradigm shift in my blogging, no longer am I only going to post only about important happenings in my life, but now you will be able to read about much, much more.

I have decided to write about all the little piddling crap that no one actually cares about but me, especially lifting. I spend a good bulk of my time and energy training, reading about training, and thinking about training. Other than work (which I can’t really talk about) the biggest happening in my life is lifting. I have avoided posting about it because it seems sort of narcissistic and self congratulatory, but so is a blog, so I am just going with it.

I also spend way, way too much time on the internet. As a result I find lots of funny stuff, especially images and videos. I also want to share those with everyone, so be prepared for assaults from the depths of the internet. As a showing of good faith I offer the following video:



I have no idea if it is real or not, but it sure is damn funny.

As a quick update about something actually happening, this evening I am going sledding in Korketrekkeren (Korken). It is the old Luge track from the 1955 Winter Olympics and is supposed to be about the most badass sledding slope this side of the North Atlantic. The best part is that you take the tube to the top, sled down, and then ride back up! No hiking!



I finally got a new camera to replace my broken one, so I will grab snapshots and maybe a video or two. I will do my best to capture someone wiping out.

I hope this spectacular post makes up for my many weeks of neglect (it doesn’t).

The Night of a Thousand Rains

I am at a point in my life where should I know I suck horribly at following directions. I always listen to some vague description about an area I don't actually know and say to myself, "Meh, I'll find it".

I get invited to a housewarming party. Yay I think, I like people and parties, this will be fun. I take a peak at a map of the area and receive some directions from my gracious hostess. I ask what she needs and I am to bring Soda and Juice.

No problem, I know exactly where the bus stop near her place is, and she tells me it is only about 200 meters from the house. This will be easy. The first ominous sign is that upon stepping out my front door the sky opens up and it begins absolutely POURING. I trudge wetly through the streets and hit the store to pick up 3 liters of soda and 3 liters of juice. For some reason Coke in Norge comes in 1 1/2 liter bottles.

I hop on the bus and get off at the right stop. Alright, now Carola told me to backtrack about 50 meters from the bus stop and turn, then go up the hill. I backtrack about 50 meters, then turn to go down the street and... no hill. Wtf? Shit, why didn't I print the damn map, I must be some sort of idiot. Oh well, he hill must be close, I'll keep looking.

I start walking, and walking AND WALKING. Damn I think, now it is getting hot. But if I open my jacket I'll get soaked. Finally, sweating, I can't stand it and open the jacket. The whole time I just keep moving in concentric circles looking for the damn street.

Nothing. I am getting wetter and wetter and the 6 liters of liquid isn't getting lighter. I keep shifting it from hand to hand. I go back to the bus stop 5 or 6 times trying to figure out where I went wrong. I just can't figure it out. By now an hour has gone by and I am sopping wet.

Finally, it dawns on me... maybe she was thinking of the other bus stop. I cross the huge street and walk down to the bus stop for the line going in the other direction, contiue 50 meters past it, turn right to stare up the long hill she was talking about. Happy I finally fucking found a clue that I am going in the right direction I am haunted by the fact that now I am cold, wet, tired and miserable. I debate just giving up and going home to cry into my juice (well, not really the crying part).

I figure I must almost be there, just like another 150 meters away, right? Wrong. I am going to get Carola a meter stick for her birthday or something because she vastly underestimated how far from the bus stop is from her house is.

Without going into too much detail I spend what must have been almost another hour wandering around THIS neighborhood looking for the right street. I start walking up one final street thinking, "If that street at the end isn't Normangatta I am going home."

Luckily, I didn't have to go home. I found the street and then the warm dry house pretty quickly. And one thing especially made the entire ordeal worthwhile. Well, two things. Firstly there was sushi. LOTS of sushi. And because I was so late Everyone had basically already had their fill. I proceeded to devour salmon rolls like they were going out of style. Mmmmm, good stuff.

Secondly, there were a couple Germans at the party and all of the other Europeans were giving them so much shit for being German. I never heard so many Nazi, Hitler, Holocaust, WW2, gas chamber jabs in my entire life. It was insane. I felt bad for them, it wasn't quite fair. I felt especially bad as Carola is German and she was the one that invited me to the party. I decided it was not a good idea to join in on that part of the revelry. As an American I catch a bit of shit, but not nearly so much.

To cap off the evening I ate more Sushi and then caught the bus home. The End.

Are they slimy?

Ah the joys and perils of different languages. My cousin sent me a message on facebook in Norsk:

God kveld. Lenge siden sist! Det er lenge siden sist vi møttes! Det var lenge siden. Luftputefartøyet mitt er fullt av ål

Now, I actually had a VERY rough idea of what that is supposed to say, but just to be certain I wanted to run it through Google for a translation. I got back MOSTLY what I expected, but I think you'll be able to pick out the surprise. Here is the translation verbatim:

Good evening. Long time no see! It is a long time since we last met! It was long ago. My hovercraft is full of eels.