Captain of Crush

I just placed an order for a set of IronMind's Captain of Crush grippers. I ordered the No. 1, 2, 3, and 4. I figure it will be a nice test of my hand strength. I did some finger curls (holding a barbell while standing, I slowly open my grip to allow the bar to roll down to my finder tips and then roll the bar back up, tightening my grip) with 350 lbs on the bar. I kept it light. I read on the gripboard that damaging a tendon in your hand would take months to heal.

I can't afford to take too many risks. I am clearly stronger than I have ever been and stronger than most people even dream of. Not only that, I'm fast on my feet. But I don't know how long this will last. I don't even really know how this is truly affecting my CNS, my internal organs, my lifespan.

I've been training Crossfit-style, but I've been keeping it light. Or at least what feels light to me. I want to incorpoate some self-defense training. However, I'm apprehensive about training with real partners. I've been digging up videos on the net to teach myself. So far I've been focusing on military-style combat like Krav Maga, Haganah, and the SPEAR.

The techniques I've learned are neat and probably effective. Thus far I've found that my background in Goju-Ryu and Judo have been sufficient during my encounters with muggers. No matter how simplistic or ineffective my technique is, I can simply and easily overpower my opponents. I want to be prepared for the day I need to rely on more than just strengh.

AM: DD, Large/Cream&Sugar

No Trace!

I haven't slept much during the past week. I spent many late nights looking for my wife's attackers. It's amazing how they can simply vanish without a trace. They could've fled back to Cuba for all I know. Castro did just tender his resignation this week, though I doubt the island will see any drastic changes for the better anytime soon.

I sit on street curbs waiting to see their car. It's easy enough to simply blend in with the other "borachos" in the area. I can't tell you how many times I've gone from sitting to full sprint, chasing after similar cars. It was cool to discover that not only can I catch up to a car moving at 40 mph, but I can also keep up with it for a good 200 yards. Fortunately, the streets are dark, so my identity is protected.

I do want to see justice brought on these women in the proper way. I plan on calling the police as soon as I determine their location. I picked up an old i560 Motorola at the Flagler flea market. I found out recently that old cellphones can still call 9-1-1 even though it's not connected with a particular service. All it needs is some battery life. This helps me with staying anonymous.

My 9-1-1 cell was especially useful during some public service I accomplished late into the night. The area I've been staking is prone to women employed by the world's oldest profession. In turn, these women tend to attract some of the world's less than ethical men.

I intervened in a few dozen muggings and rapes I saw out in the street. It's easy to move in quickly and disarm the aggressor. I then tie him up with whatever I can find (I lost two pairs of shoe strings doing this), call 9-1-1, and leave him on the street corner for the police. I know, I know, it's straight out of Bruce Wayne's fantasy world. But unlike the caped crusader, many of the victims don't wait around for the police; I assume some of these victims are on some wanted list to begin with. And without a victim, the guys can't be charged for crime.

AM: Dunkin Donuts, Large/Cream & Sugar
PM: Cafecito
PM: Dunkin Donuts, Large/Cream & Sugar

Helpless

Last Friday I wasn't available to help. Of all the times my newfound strength would have come in most handy, I wasn't even around.

She was hurt. She was bleeding. She was bruised. It was just my wife versus three women bent on destruction of all things humane. Not only did they endanger the life of my wife, but also that of our newly discovered 8 week child.

I could've picked up their car and held it overhead long enough for the cops arrive. But the four minutes it took between the 9-1-1 call and officers' arrival was too long for my wife.

How can I make myself more available?

AM: Dunkin Donuts, Large/Black Cinnamon

Who says I can't jump?

Just a short post today.

I ran downstairs to grab some lunch across the street.

As I was walking out of Pollo Tropical, I saw this guy walking ahead of me, ready to cross the street. He was limping a bit, favoring his left leg. He took three steps onto the street when I heard a sportscar peeling around the corner. I knew the sportscar would've hit the guy had I not intevened.

I sprinted towards the guy and threw him up on my right shoulder. There was a white car coming from the opposte direction, so I leapt over it and landed on the sidewalk (it was only a Miata, so it wasn't too difficult to gain enough vert to clear it).

Admist the onslaughter of screeching and braking from each of the cars we just cleared, I set the guy down on the ground and made my way out of sight. My car was on the opposite end of the parking lot. I made my way there and changed into a T-shirt. I waited a few minutes before returning to my office.

Later I sat down for some lunch from the vending machine (I was so looking forward to my Tropi Chop Max).

AM: Dunkin Donuts Medium Roast with Cinnamon

I can help.

My wife and I were at the store last week. It was pouring outside all afternoon. The raindrops were of the heavy sort; each drop made "THUD" sound rather than a soft splash.

When it finally cleared up, we went outside to wipe down the glass. We were at opposite ends of the window, probably about 25 feet between us. I heard just the softest crack from up above. Within just a slip second, I was huddled over my wife while she was crouching down. The back of my shirt was torn and shredded. There was a cloud of dust rising from the ground, flowing away from the cars passing by (the street is only 3 yards from the front of the store). We open our eyes and find large pieces of plaster and stucco all around us. Most of the larger pieces were attached a rusted and bent wire frame. It was a little of over 10 feet long. There was a U-shape bend in the frame, presumably from where it landed on my back. We looked up and saw the stucco facade from the second floor of the building was gone. Where the facade once was we saw rotten, wet wood.

We quickly took several steps away from the building to avoid the path of any further falling debris. My wife then punched me in the arm and asked, "Are you okay."

"Oww!", I replied. "Of course I am. What about you?"

"I'm fine. Are you crazy?!"

"Why'd you punch me?! Crazy? Are you sure you're okay?"

"If you were standing so close to me, why didn't you just pull me away instead of jump on top of me! You could've gotten us killed!"

"Um, you're welcome?"

We hugged each other shortly thereafter. That building truly is a mess and is literally falling apart. My wife checked my back and couldn't find a single scratch or tear in my skin. She thought it was odd since there was blood on my torn shirt.

"Would you believe I was stung by a radioactive mosquitoe while at an abandoned missle silo that caused me to have both super-strength and rapid healing abilities?" I said in a sarcastic tone.

"We are not letting our kids read your old comicbooks, so you might as well sell them already," she said. "This isn't blood on your shirt. It's rust and paint from the wall."

"Oh, right. Rust and paint."

AM: Dunkin Donuts Medium Roast, Cream with Catcus Honey
PM: Cafecito