tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2058144076037612972024-03-19T23:57:52.889-07:00The Physical Therapy of Ken KnoxAn online journal for Hollywood writer Ken Knox to share his experiences working out with a personal trainer for six months.Ken Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00370546187044348094noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205814407603761297.post-35937773141181819842007-10-19T16:28:00.000-07:002007-10-19T17:13:34.774-07:00The End is the Beginning!<a href="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/BeforeAfterWEb.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/BeforeAfterWEb.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a> Well, folks, it's come that time: Time for the unveiling of The New Me! Yes, I have a new body, as you can see from the pics in this (long-delayed) entry.<br /><br />A note about the photo shoot: I was lucky enough to hook up with a photographer who shoots for all kinds of things, one of them being stills and behind-the-scenes pics for the adult industry. His name is Greg Lenzman, and I've known him for a few years. He was gracious enough to volunteer to do the shoot for free, and he took me out to this really cool abandoned pier just off the PCH in Malibu, and it was there that I had one of the best days of my life. I've always had a very hard time taking my shirt off in private, much less in public, so for me to have felt confident enough to pose for this photo shoot was a HUGE deal. It felt GREAT! I was out there for hours in the sun, and I felt so sexy! Greg (aka "Mocha") took some amazing shots. When I saw them later on, I couldn't believe how I looked. "Is that ME!?" I exclaimed. Sure enough, it was. I can't tell you how happy I am with the results.<br /><br />Speaking of results, here they are:<br /><br />STARTING MEASUREMENTS (JANUARY 22):<br /><br />Weight: 169.2 lb.<br />Biceps: 12 ¼ “<br />Chest: 40 “<br />Waist: 40”<br /><br />ENDING MEASUREMENTS (SEPTEMBER 23):<br /><br />Weight: 156 lb.<br />Biceps: 13 ¼ “<br />Chest: 39”*<br />Waist: 34”<br /><br />* The final figure indicates a loss of fat, not muscle. <br /><br />When I saw that I'd lost six inches off my waist, I was ecstatic. And boy, does it show. Just look at those before pics!!! <br /><br /><a href="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/BeforeAfter2Web.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/BeforeAfter2Web.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a> Sadly, my time training in the gym with Ronn has come to an end. After seven and a half months sweating it out at Train, my workout project for Frontiers is finished. And I'm sad. If anyone would have told me back in January that I would be sad to NOT work out, I think I would have laughed at them. As you all know, I was not the biggest fan of the gym culture, especially the L.A. gym scene. But my, how times change. <br /><br />I'm a changed man now in many ways. If you've been following along on the blog, then you've read about how working out with Ronn has helped me to grow and evolve. Not only did I come to appreciate the value of working out regularly, I learned to appreciate the value of something much more important: Myself. I like myself more than I ever have now. I look in the mirror, and while I don't see exactly the body that I want, I generally like what I see, and I understand that I have it in my power to change the things that I don't like. That's an amazing knowledge to be aware of. It seems like such a simple thing--common sense to some. But to those of us who have struggled with body dysmorphia and who have felt intimidated by those more in shape, that is something that is hard for us to learn. <br /><br /><a href="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/BeforeAfter3Web.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/BeforeAfter3Web.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a> But what is beautiful about what I have done for myself is that I no longer feel inadequate and un-attractive. I am now simply aware of my body's limitations, and instead of feeling bad about the things that I cannot change, I accept and embrace those things as part of what makes me Ken. I am a little self-conscious about my rib cage being so low and prominent, but I just know that I have to work all that much harder on my chest and on my shoulders and arms to bring balance and symmetry to my body. OK. I know I will never have a full head of hair again, but I now see that I am a very attractive man just the same. Working out has helped me to realize that I simply can't be everybody's type--just as not everybody is mine. I no longer take rejection so personally. If they can't see me for the beautiful person that I am, then who really has the problem here? {Haha.}<br /><br /><a href="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/BeforeAfter4Web.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/BeforeAfter4Web.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a> Actually, there's so much more to it than feeling attractive and hot and desirable. The superficial reasons for working out are only half of why I did it in the first place. The bigger reward is that I was able to accomplish something that I had previously thought myself incapable of doing. Before when I worked out, I would lose my enthusiasm quickly. But this time around, I remained enthusiastic through all of it. Of course, this is all due to having a trainer to help push and guide me through the process. Through it all, Ronn became not only my trainer and my teacher, but also my mentor, my therapist, my big brother and my best friend. I knew from the first time we met that we were going to hit it off famously, and we did. I simply couldn't have achieved all that I did without him.<br /><br />But now it's time for me to take what I've learned from Ronn and go out on my own, and I'm very excited to begin this next chapter of taking care of myself. I injured my wrist during the last few weeks of training, and I've been taking a break from weights since then to give it time to heal. It was a huge shock going from working out five nights a week to not working out at all, and I still find myself restless, but I make sure I hike in Runyon Canyon on the weekends just to keep active, and as soon as my doctor gives me the OK to head back into the gym, I am so there. Ronn has put together a great program for me to follow on my own, and I can't wait to see what else I can accomplish with my body. It's onward and upward for me! <br /><br /><a href="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/BeforeAfter5Web.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/BeforeAfter5Web.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>I will post on this blog periodically to keep you updated on how I'm doing, of course. I can't guarantee I'll do it often, but I will keep posting text and pics so you can follow along in my journey. Thanx for all your support along the way. It's been a huge help!<br /><br />Talk to you soon!<br /><br />XOXO,<br />KenKen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00370546187044348094noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205814407603761297.post-81077887240635548262007-08-22T12:10:00.000-07:002008-12-09T22:47:15.995-08:00Winding Down...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2mbkNdH0Wem3LYGYyzFazUTE_IzGS5LImW-eoIlLbkAvdnOynkGIsTKzeJtoReRDuo5tusRPXgfNg1TMAzhjGw2_KSQy5CsCyx2gTGGlhrR6CU1Yhg4ZFUsJ-ddvGi04Vo0-dpwCV/s1600-h/IMG_5031.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2mbkNdH0Wem3LYGYyzFazUTE_IzGS5LImW-eoIlLbkAvdnOynkGIsTKzeJtoReRDuo5tusRPXgfNg1TMAzhjGw2_KSQy5CsCyx2gTGGlhrR6CU1Yhg4ZFUsJ-ddvGi04Vo0-dpwCV/s320/IMG_5031.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105711530302139474" border="0" /></a>Wow, I can't believe how long it's been since I posted here. (Yes, I know I'm always saying that. I suck!) I also can't believe how quickly it's all gone. Seven months ago on January 22, I started this whole thing as a project for Frontiers magazine, and it's become something else entirely. (I kinda always knew it would, though.) It's become a project in personal reaffirmation and in facing my fears and becoming the man I always knew I could be. And I'm almost there.<br /><br />In terms of what's been going on in the gym, it's been a little intense lately. Ronn began packing on the weight more and more, challenging me to step up to the plate and put my newly developed muscles to the test. Lots of bench presses, shoulder flies, bicep curls, tricep pulldowns and leg presses. Anything and everything. There's even been some boxing! Some of it has been excruciating! (Have you ever heard a grown man whimper? It's NOT pretty!) But when I leave the gym at night all sweaty (I love being sweaty after a hot workout!) and am driving home, I feel elated and pumped.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsblm_pTrvPFZzMsTGJRdtLINN9z3lK0A5UMuotqDt4hUf9EeRnFp2HWWqApiTPs431bx2cSndTC5lemfRAW0Grkq3yP3inEXssbr_oiIvljq0er6bqv5_66V-F5Ugn97pmDgTzSSu/s1600-h/IMG_5039.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsblm_pTrvPFZzMsTGJRdtLINN9z3lK0A5UMuotqDt4hUf9EeRnFp2HWWqApiTPs431bx2cSndTC5lemfRAW0Grkq3yP3inEXssbr_oiIvljq0er6bqv5_66V-F5Ugn97pmDgTzSSu/s320/IMG_5039.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105714068627811506" border="0" /></a>I can't believe the changes I've been seeing in my body. They were subtle at first, but lately, things have been "falling into place" in a more noticeable way. The muscles in my shouders, biceps and chest are more pronounced, more developed, and my upper legs and butt? Well, let's just say that sometimes when I try on sexy underwear and look at myself in the mirror, I can't help but want to jump the bones of the man looking back at me. Haha. (I've been working on a story about underwear for Unzipped magazine, so I've been getting tons of free samples in the mail from folks like Ginch Gonch, Aussie Bum and Andrew Christian. All this hot stuff that I always wanted to wear, but never thought I could pull off--until now! Woof!)<br /><br />I'm still sticking to my diet as well. And it's no longer anything I even think about. It's just become part of my life now, eating this way. In fact, I've actually come to really like the food I'm eating, to the point where I find myself craving it all the time. Oatmeal for breakfast, a chicken breast salad with apples, raisins, onions and walnuts for lunch, and chicken breast and/or tofu and brown rice for dinner. I never get tired of it. I have certain little cheats. Like, after every workout, I drive straight to this awesome frozen yogurt place called Yogotango and I have a small plain yogurt with bananas, strawberries and granola. But I read that if you spike your insulin directly following a workout, you can actually increase your metabolism, which leads to quicker weight loss. Funnily enough, I've noticed a more dramatic loss in my tummy since I started eating the yogurt regularly. So it's a cheat I feel good about. (Besides, it's only 130 calories per serving, and it's low in fat.) And I did break down and have a few of the new Chipotle BBQ Snack Wraps from McDonald's, but only on my cheat day. But I'm still losing weight, so I'm not sweating it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsIn_xqlf4vTTlX9X9Duo6jgcijdfzoMQ9X5JKYczznQayFEH4cbmUOUpUXa06a2gqLH7nmJGY0wboHSJpaVVu_e-AY139Isbf2N3d-RXhlqjSusULlD4-VG7GBMhBgJA7SxmMkTHg/s1600-h/Patio7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsIn_xqlf4vTTlX9X9Duo6jgcijdfzoMQ9X5JKYczznQayFEH4cbmUOUpUXa06a2gqLH7nmJGY0wboHSJpaVVu_e-AY139Isbf2N3d-RXhlqjSusULlD4-VG7GBMhBgJA7SxmMkTHg/s320/Patio7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105712320576121986" border="0" /></a>As my body changes more and more and I start to feel FAN-FRICKING-TASTIC about myself, I realize what an amazing thing I've done for myself. I don't know that I've necessarily reached the goal I wanted to (I want to get a little bit bigger in my upper body before I go and do this thing totally on my own, so I'm looking into options in order to keep training with Ronn at least three nights a week), but I did reach at least one goal: I conquered my fear of the gym, and now feel as if I fully belong there. I'm not quite an athlete, but I am legitimately athletic, and that's something I'd always wanted to be. Perhaps I'll go and joing the gay rugby team in L.A. now! (The boys are HOT!)<br /><br />Anyway, even though my official after pics aren't being taken until somewhere around Aug. 28, I did take a few advance shots this past weekend on my newly made-over patio (yet another phase of my own personal "Extreme Makeover" session), and I thought I would post a couple of them here so you could have a "sneak peek" at "the new Ken."<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVtVmxSqEb6TJPOrguudaJLc0oWBmhZrc7KNor5h-E4I1y-lzKvqtfkNTS13ZgzcjgOjZH2puELN0b_ccavSkQucEQHEx-Dm_m5LIyBw6C4sVjoJuUT6c-mJ6GKT_qNfhf2INh_n8E/s1600-h/Mirror3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVtVmxSqEb6TJPOrguudaJLc0oWBmhZrc7KNor5h-E4I1y-lzKvqtfkNTS13ZgzcjgOjZH2puELN0b_ccavSkQucEQHEx-Dm_m5LIyBw6C4sVjoJuUT6c-mJ6GKT_qNfhf2INh_n8E/s200/Mirror3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105712767252720786" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU9lXP-1OA4YXSJyP4-OveIv8aH5cZbrd8Fr-6bnD7seYiixyVlfxA9vBkb337EScBizCNCu9PTqJ1qtiGgYpK4tHDSSKP4JNgIvE0mLoaUMbZ1DB0h7JvPRG3T24Ep44bZFSSif51/s1600-h/Chest2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU9lXP-1OA4YXSJyP4-OveIv8aH5cZbrd8Fr-6bnD7seYiixyVlfxA9vBkb337EScBizCNCu9PTqJ1qtiGgYpK4tHDSSKP4JNgIvE0mLoaUMbZ1DB0h7JvPRG3T24Ep44bZFSSif51/s200/Chest2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105713003475922082" border="0" /></a>I'll keep you updated this week.<br /><br />XOXO,<br />KenKen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00370546187044348094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205814407603761297.post-74870704635786078252007-07-30T22:22:00.000-07:002008-12-09T22:47:17.289-08:00Still Pumping Iron<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT1Lyqbgb7kxY1NFbQ54-C-b9Q04UizXqqsvzM5GfatgYsXFnyAaE5fHFWwvQOCwuaYfN_EM6WC63c8B6K3uMEnFEyGc9Lpa08ed9dFOH0ms44fkrcEKPVdjOYaCD6nlZ7tO0MKjiz/s1600-h/IMG_4984.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093238560498213314" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT1Lyqbgb7kxY1NFbQ54-C-b9Q04UizXqqsvzM5GfatgYsXFnyAaE5fHFWwvQOCwuaYfN_EM6WC63c8B6K3uMEnFEyGc9Lpa08ed9dFOH0ms44fkrcEKPVdjOYaCD6nlZ7tO0MKjiz/s320/IMG_4984.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Well, what can I say, folks? Obviously, you know by now that I'm not the best at updating this darned thing. I'm doing a much better job of updating the <a href="http://unzippedblog.net/">blog</a> that I do for work. (Check it out if you want--and if you're into gay porn.) But since that is written at the office during work hours, it's a lot easier than tending to this one, which is usually done following a workout session in my "freelance" hours. And this gym convert is usually too darned tired after one of his strenuous workouts.<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div>Some of you might be thinking: <em>Wait a minute, Ken, wasn't this whole thing supposed to be over by now?</em> And you'd be right. It's been a little over six months since I started working out with Ronn. (The exact starting date was January 22.) But, since I was a wimp with virtually no muscle content at all when I started, the first five months were really just about building a foundation of muscle. At the end of those five months, I looked in the mirror and was happy with what I saw--Wow, check out that definition in my arms!--but I realized that I was nowhere near where I wanted to be in terms of being ready for "after" pics. So, Ronn and I both decided to extend the project by one more month to give us extra time to try to "pump me up." I also added an extra day of weight training (up to <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRIC0lFE9NRdTHYqD3eM0to13JdYrGE1jmc7zscZjbfoSXWDIVUQMevcHJ7ZGazrJFxE3QYPL8dKRwGZBqB4D_9OZyAj_Mknz4gUMBAvb9sg9N_EDNT497KvQQSwsBY23_ZWsBf2Zu/s1600-h/IMG_5018.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093236043647377794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRIC0lFE9NRdTHYqD3eM0to13JdYrGE1jmc7zscZjbfoSXWDIVUQMevcHJ7ZGazrJFxE3QYPL8dKRwGZBqB4D_9OZyAj_Mknz4gUMBAvb9sg9N_EDNT497KvQQSwsBY23_ZWsBf2Zu/s320/IMG_5018.JPG" border="0" /></a>five nights, compared to the four I was originally doing), and went on an extra-modified diet (essentially high protein--nothing but chicken, fish, eggs, brown rice and baked potatoes) to help achieve the bod I want.</div><br /><div>So far, not so bad. This past weekend I weighed myself on the scale at the gym, and was amazed to see that not only had I reached my goal (160 pounds), but had actually surpassed it (I was down to 158)!!! That was pretty thrilling, I must say. Other than weight lost in pounds, I've also lost a good bit of weight in inches. I've certainly noticed dramatic changes in the way that my clothes fit--or rather, don't fit--me. I've got several pair of 32-inch waist jeans that now hang over my butt! I've had to belt them just to keep them from falling down. Woo hoo! (Of course, you know what that means: I have to buy new clothes. Anyone wanna fund my next shopping spree?)</div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtfYNkshZtu7EE7yv9nEKPvHunx1TDnAiSZoQkEoTPbPsL90zQ-pBrrfBpMeiAMtPipSyGgGGmm_kKAtxRwlC1rIhLjZ4Oz6FlY6lqyFzldCRbf6qLsPAK4omktjFK-CyR409OgS-I/s1600-h/IMG_5020.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093237624195342770" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtfYNkshZtu7EE7yv9nEKPvHunx1TDnAiSZoQkEoTPbPsL90zQ-pBrrfBpMeiAMtPipSyGgGGmm_kKAtxRwlC1rIhLjZ4Oz6FlY6lqyFzldCRbf6qLsPAK4omktjFK-CyR409OgS-I/s320/IMG_5020.JPG" border="0" /></a>But where some weight has been lost, other weight has been gained--or rather, redistributed. Where I used to have measly soft arms and sunken torso, I now have lean, firm biceps and the outline of a nice, soon-to-be-formidable chest forming. My legs are pretty ripped from hours of cardio on the eliptical machine, treadmill and the Stairs to Nowhere. My back is getting more solid by the day. And my abs are hardening with each set of 75 crunches/leg raises, etc. There are days where I will look in the mirror and not recognize myself at all. Other days I still see the out-of-shape wimp I used to be, and then stress that I'm not working hard enough and want to race back into the gym so I can make up for it.</div><br /><div>But the truth is, I'm working my tail off, and it's showing. I'm getting more compliments than ever from friends who haven't seen me in a while, and even from those who saw me only a week ago. These last few weeks are going to be some of the most crucial of the entire project, as this is really about building upon the foundation that Ronn and I have created together.<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhusxxpcF85yO8AYuXos-5lHm-4W94o7E0DiO0g3znh1F2O6OG8IGgR2p-PWj0YEin2L7AUJauNXTb7JRqg3TOCHu3AdYN4LRsRY3HCVFzvHhZLcNVsW2TUMP1lUBYbHe7j3xN8lHN_/s1600-h/IMG_5048.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093237134569071010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhusxxpcF85yO8AYuXos-5lHm-4W94o7E0DiO0g3znh1F2O6OG8IGgR2p-PWj0YEin2L7AUJauNXTb7JRqg3TOCHu3AdYN4LRsRY3HCVFzvHhZLcNVsW2TUMP1lUBYbHe7j3xN8lHN_/s320/IMG_5048.JPG" border="0" /></a>I've been asked to show my body a few times, but I'm holding out on any unveiling until the end of the project. That means I've stayed away from pool parties (I'm not really a fan anyway) and haven't updated my pics on my dating-site profiles either. All in good time, my pretties, all in good time. I want the "after" pics to be as dramatically different than the "before" pics as possible, so I'm keeping the bod under wraps until then. Frontiers will publish the final installment in the Sept. 12 issue of the magazine, which means I need to have my story and the pictures turned in by August 26. That leaves just under a month for Ronn and I to rock the sh#t out and get me as close to looking like a swimsuit model as possible. It should be interesting--and pretty painful! </div><br /><div>Stay tuned, folks! I will try to update more often in these last few weeks1</div><br /><div><strong>(Pics by Kevin Cazares)</strong></div></span></div></div></div></div></div>Ken Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00370546187044348094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205814407603761297.post-59207691599441457722007-06-15T15:17:00.000-07:002008-12-09T22:47:17.640-08:00Who's That Pretty [Boy] in the Mirror There?<span style=""><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvZZnGv89ymATSaJgC_ZVQLkbgsHI62dvZYK9qEu4MY53Joyw8nchXUByuStsycjs1gEMgrqw3Z5BCdNrX7AfpenW3qJ3PPZHbSBNpmHLXL2Snbd-Ha4MdWAMrsWIIVAXYa7arU5bZ/s1600-h/IMG_4153.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvZZnGv89ymATSaJgC_ZVQLkbgsHI62dvZYK9qEu4MY53Joyw8nchXUByuStsycjs1gEMgrqw3Z5BCdNrX7AfpenW3qJ3PPZHbSBNpmHLXL2Snbd-Ha4MdWAMrsWIIVAXYa7arU5bZ/s320/IMG_4153.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076436452218236930" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">So now that things are beginning to get down to the wire (we've got just a little over a month left until we are at the official six-month mark), Ronn has begun to really "step things up" in the gym. Not that we were pussying around before or anything, but now he's really begun to pack the weight on.<br /><br />On Tuesday, we started our session off with some lunge walks across the room. 15 deep steps over and 15 deep steps back. With 20-pound weights! OH. MY. GOD. Then we went downstairs to do some squats with me supporting a bar on my shoulders. HOLY. SH#T! For the rest of the night--and all day long Wednesday--I could barely walk. Talk about pain. Sheesh. Then last night (Thursday), it was all about biceps, and Ronn again gave me the heavy weights. There were moments after completing a set of 15 reps where I almost thought I was going to have an emotional outburst. I have to really collect myself in these moments, because sometimes it hurts so much to complete the reps that I have tears stinging my eyes. I may hate Ronn for 30 seconds afterward, but I just hold my tongue and breathe and wipe the sweat off my brow and come back for more.<br /><br />I've been surprising myself, though. As I watch my body change right in front of my eyes ("Damn, Ken, check ou<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwJDtHn-JK9r9Le5ZfqxkSZ0hK_1lnpgh3_cHxnmOXMXK6Qxsn5c7brq48oieepHCNWHzn6ZVoDdjiiVqi9mhYxHg9Raka92RlAJqUHkhKq85tA91wGTQPzFycMhRWFN8LOP50wyaA/s1600-h/IMG_4182.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwJDtHn-JK9r9Le5ZfqxkSZ0hK_1lnpgh3_cHxnmOXMXK6Qxsn5c7brq48oieepHCNWHzn6ZVoDdjiiVqi9mhYxHg9Raka92RlAJqUHkhKq85tA91wGTQPzFycMhRWFN8LOP50wyaA/s320/IMG_4182.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076433295417274338" border="0" /></a>t those biceps!"), I continue to be amazed by the things we can accomplish if we set our minds to it. For me, this experience has given me so much more confidence in myself. For years I kept myself out of the gym because I kept telling myself that I would fail at it. I just didn't think I had what it took to do it and succeed at it. But the more I keep at it, the more I succeed, and the more confident I become. And it's not just because I can look in the mirror and see my arms getting bigger and my stomach getting smaller. It's not that I feel "hotter" or "sexier." What I'm getting out of this experience is so much more than the physical pay-off. Just the liberation that comes from putting your mind to something and accomplishing it profoundly motivational. When I leave the gym, I feel like I can conquer the world.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3703.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3703.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a>The great part, though, is how it's affected nearly every other area of my life, as well. The confidence has spilled over into my relation- ships with my friends, to the way I approach my bosses at work, to the way I am handling my career. I've had "breakthrough moments" in every one of these areas. I speak more freely when my feelings are hurt by friends. I told my bosses I wasn't happy in my job anymore, told them I wanted more money, and--when they ponied up with a very small increase--I gave them my notice and found a new gig that pays better instead. (I start June 25. Yay, me!) I've experienced such feelings of elation and joy as of late, it's actually been a little overwhelming at times. Working out in the gym has led me into a perfect period of clarity in my life. Now that I've conquered one of my biggest fears--and now that I no longer spend my time being down on myself for being out of shape--I can see myself for who I truly am, and I am able to be more proactive in the areas where work still needs to be done. Who ever would have thought that this all could have come from working out?<br /><br />Anyway, there you go. More insight from a gym bunny in training! I'll be sure to check back in with ya soon to keep you updated on what's happening with my body. I'm going to start measuring my body to see how much muscle mass I've gained. That should be fun! Woo hoo! I'm just one pound away from my desired weight (160 pounds, down from 172 when I started), so, like Kate Hudson was said in <span style="font-style: italic;">Almost Famous</span>, "It's all happening!" So stay tuned!<br /><br />(Pics by Kevin Cazares)</span></span>Ken Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00370546187044348094noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205814407603761297.post-63531898666600478182007-05-30T12:43:00.000-07:002008-12-09T22:47:18.142-08:00What I'm Learning at the Gym<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">NOTE: </span>The following entry originally appeared in </span><span>Frontiers</span><span> </span><span style="font-style: italic;">Newsmagazine.</span><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmQCJRObL6HIHkO5Hs1EkaeWM5ruJoFB3NiQ2l3IA97KRG8-wyzW1xCVa6XDiKqBI67KtrZkWG_vLpTw0SgG9ZvKFURwrtcLbhz-0I3X8sxWC4Qjzn02fPLwNAiqW1mVXuYEnv84ii/s1600-h/IMG_4165.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmQCJRObL6HIHkO5Hs1EkaeWM5ruJoFB3NiQ2l3IA97KRG8-wyzW1xCVa6XDiKqBI67KtrZkWG_vLpTw0SgG9ZvKFURwrtcLbhz-0I3X8sxWC4Qjzn02fPLwNAiqW1mVXuYEnv84ii/s320/IMG_4165.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070446721454128050" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="">Four months ago, I set off on a journey to get in touch </span><span style="">with my inner athlete by hooking up with a personal </span><span style="">trainer and hitting the weights. It’s been </span><span style="">an exciting time for me—one filled with all kinds of personal highs and discoveries. In fact, I’m learning all kinds of </span><span style="">interesting things about myself and my body—a</span><span style="">nd especially other people. With three more months to go until Project Makeover comes to a close, I thought I’d offer up a</span><span style=""> few of these interesting discoveries.<br /><br /></span><b style=""><span style=""><span style="font-weight: bold;">Private gyms are truly an insecure gay man’s best friend</span></span></b><span style=""><span style="font-weight: bold;">.</span> </span><span style="">Working out at Train has helped me get over my case of “gym phobia.” I no longer feel like I don’t belong at the gym. </span><span style="">What’s more, I’ve actually grown to become a little addicted to going. Train is like a sanctuary of sorts for me now—a place where it’s OK for things to</span><span style=""> be all about me for an hour or two. It helps that my trainer, Ronn Burns, knows just how to ease my fears and give me the room that I need to excel, but beyond that, I’ve ta</span><span style="">pped into a part of myself that I’d always wanted to reach out to, but just wasn’t sure how. Bonus: There’s none of that silly cruising going on in the locker rooms at Train. </span><b style=""><span style=""><br /></span></b><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0XhUH_G_u_jxv8-yOxRzv-PUF-M9aJIlPiTSpZNSjp8Y1B8q7mTiC1ijd53ZgqqO4ybfNwg2omD2Kvc_TKumerzj976HJUG4TDCkLGezVoYV6RMawniYmrt77U0T3x4Nxe5xR2whq/s1600-h/IMG_4181.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0XhUH_G_u_jxv8-yOxRzv-PUF-M9aJIlPiTSpZNSjp8Y1B8q7mTiC1ijd53ZgqqO4ybfNwg2omD2Kvc_TKumerzj976HJUG4TDCkLGezVoYV6RMawniYmrt77U0T3x4Nxe5xR2whq/s320/IMG_4181.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070443298365193074" border="0" /></a><b style=""><span style="">60 seconds of pre-emptive stretching can save you days of pain. </span></b><span style="">I found out the hard way before I got onto the elliptical machine that failure to stretch can lead to </span><span style="">some pretty serious soreness. Come to think of it, this is a good thing to remember before having particularly athletic sex, as well. Trust me, I know.</span><b style=""><span style=""><br /></span></b><br /><b style=""><span style="">Running or walking in place can be hell with nothing to do. </span></b><span style="">It was fine when I could only do three minutes on the elliptical machine, but once I built myself up to doing 30, 45 and even 60 minutes (Go, me!), it got to be pretty tedious. Thank God for my iPod. Now I can catch up with <i style="">Veronica Mars</i>, <i style="">Lost</i> and <i style="">Battlestar Galactica </i>while getting my cardio in. Does that make me a treadmill po</span><span style="">tato?<o:p></o:p></span><b style=""><span style=""><br /><br />Jumping rope is a <i style="">lot</i> harder than I remember it being. </span></b><span style="">Seriously, trying to coordinate swinging the rope around at just the exact moment that I’m hopping off the ground was <i style="">not</i> easy work. It took a lot of practice at home</span><span style="">—and a lot of patience on Ronn’s part—to get it down. </span><b style=""><span style=""><br /><br /></span></b><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2gxk5MNJ3seH4CXYRJQAg5n4vCFa_twCqvbU73W7V6icfOnW_NlhuYji_xt6lUqiB5hSOPedg58DD_v3SoJ7E3ST0CpNj34jia05tEEe3x_zVZ_GT_Fzf-BlClOvSQPxTmUyvWNu2/s1600-h/IMG_4220.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2gxk5MNJ3seH4CXYRJQAg5n4vCFa_twCqvbU73W7V6icfOnW_NlhuYji_xt6lUqiB5hSOPedg58DD_v3SoJ7E3ST0CpNj34jia05tEEe3x_zVZ_GT_Fzf-BlClOvSQPxTmUyvWNu2/s320/IMG_4220.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070443534588394370" border="0" /></a><b style=""><span style="">Trader Joe’s peanut butter is God’s gift to healthy diets. </span></b><span style="">When Ronn told me I would have to switch to unsalted peanut butter, I grimaced. Now, I eat the stuff by the tablespoon-full as a snack on my cheat day and put it in my morning protein shakes. If there was a Peanut Butter Addicts Anonymous group, I think I’d be its founding member.<o:p></o:p></span><b style=""><span style=""><br /></span></b><br /><b style=""><span style="">Celebrities sweat just like the rest of us. </span></b><span style="">There are a couple TV (and porn) stars who work ou</span><span style="">t at Train. One of them is on one my favorite shows, and we’ve ended up doing cardio next to each other a few times. She always smiles and nods to me. There’s something comforting about knowing that, when it comes to looking good, celebrities have to work just as hard as the rest of us. <o:p></o:p></span><b style=""><span style=""><br /><br /></span></b><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguHyGi8cLJmbp-4CADWeMjoZGyYT31Ijw3DH_AXbGmgM351KUf3ZB1SGRzW3CjFPbxYVnKQBYpsehOYvSdnybyTif0vD3DHuykIXxN-wl8YVrNrYGDz3xDyAcbILQyg1VS8Ehe1joz/s1600-h/IMG_4234.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguHyGi8cLJmbp-4CADWeMjoZGyYT31Ijw3DH_AXbGmgM351KUf3ZB1SGRzW3CjFPbxYVnKQBYpsehOYvSdnybyTif0vD3DHuykIXxN-wl8YVrNrYGDz3xDyAcbILQyg1VS8Ehe1joz/s320/IMG_4234.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070444397876820882" border="0" /></a><b style=""><span style="">High-energy trance music isn’t just for gays anymore. </span></b><span style="">There are these two straight guys who love to work out to really loud trance music. They keep asking the receptionist to turn it up, then they spend the next hour hooting and hollering their way through their session. Which leads me to…<o:p></o:p></span><b style=""><span style=""><br /></span></b><br /><b style=""><span style="">Straight men are even <i style="">more</i> annoying than we thought they were when they’re working out. </span></b><span style="">Look, fellas, I’m really glad that you’re rockin’ twice your body weight on those bench presses, but seriously, do you really need to let everyone in the room know how strong you think you are? A little humility goes a <i style="">long</i> way. Still, it must be said that…<o:p></o:p></span><b style=""><span style=""><br /><br /></span></b><b style=""><span style="">Gay men are just <i style="">way</i> too into themselves.</span></b><b style=""><span style=""> </span></b><span style="">OK, so this is nothing we didn’t already know. But,<b style=""> </b>there’s this one trainer who won’t stop looking at himself in the mirror—even when he’s training his clients. I keep waiting for his reflection to shout out, “Hey, dude! Take a frickin’ picture; it’ll last longer.” I know that’s what <i style="">I</i> want to shout.<o:p></o:p></span><b style=""><span style=""><br /><br /></span></b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL9AB8iEz7ucUPllWsThyIo0QGg6xFBG7U-27qga8WhMbWZ3xPNKWbmO_gBW3ycZ_4wU3Z9idtrtGZFjqt9gvAtPBAIH3uammblyEeeFn0uw7WWclhHe-5NmbxxKPu6xKMvvQgJLb9/s1600-h/IMG_4240.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL9AB8iEz7ucUPllWsThyIo0QGg6xFBG7U-27qga8WhMbWZ3xPNKWbmO_gBW3ycZ_4wU3Z9idtrtGZFjqt9gvAtPBAIH3uammblyEeeFn0uw7WWclhHe-5NmbxxKPu6xKMvvQgJLb9/s320/IMG_4240.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070444943337667490" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><b style=""><span style="">There’s nothing like a shopping spree to reward yourself. </span></b><span style="">As I’ve noticed the changes in my body—smaller tummy, bigger arms and shoulders, diminished chin—I’ve taken to making little pit stops at Target on my way home from the gym and picking up some cool T-shirts and stuff. The best part of all is that when I try </span><span style="">the clothes on, I no longer cringe at my reflection in the mirror. Things are looking good. I see where my body is headed, and I can’t wait to get there. Even so…<o:p></o:p></span><b style=""><span style=""><br /><br /></span></b><b style=""><span style="">Patience is definitely a virtue. </span></b><span style="">As improved as my body looks, I’ve become a little impatient about seeing that tummy go away completely and those shoulders get a bit bigger and rounder. But Ronn says he is very impressed with my progress. “Swimsuit issue, here you come!” he tells me. I don’t know about all that, but it’s obvious there’s a reason I’m keeping this guy around.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:75;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">(Pics by Kevin Cazares)</span><br /></span></span></span>Ken Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00370546187044348094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205814407603761297.post-30381996760737552202007-04-03T13:19:00.000-07:002007-04-03T16:55:44.332-07:00Week 11: Still Going Strong!!!<span style="font-size:85%;">OK, folks, I realize it's been quite some time since I last posted. Sheesh! Where does the time go? Has it really been since <span style="font-style: italic;">February 16</span> that I last posted a new blog entry? I'm a bad blogger. A verrry bad blogger. I should be punished.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3460.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3460.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a>Actually, sometimes it feels like I <span style="font-style: italic;">am</span> being punished by Trainer Ronn, especially after a workout like last night's. But I'm getting ahead of myself...again. Let me catch you up to speed.<br /><br />In the last six weeks, I've kind of blossomed into a little gym bunny. Haha. Well, not quite, but I <span style="font-style: italic;">have</span> become a bona-fide fan of working out. I'm still going to the gym four nights a week and doing one day of cardio on my own, but I've also stepped it up a bit by doing a second day of cardio plus weekly hikes in Runyon Canyon, where I've now managed to hike up the big mountain two weeks in a row. I tried hiking that thing a year ago, and I couldn't even make it a quarter of the way up. Now I've hiked it twice, and each time it's gotten easier for me to do it without resting as much as I thought I would have to. And let me tell you, folks: My ass is all the hotter for it. I've received a few comments, in fact, from folks who have commented on how much nicer my derriere is looking these days. Is that hot or what?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3521.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3521.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a>With all the cardio, you're probably thinking, "Damn, Ken, you must have taken off TONS of weight." Well, I'm happy to report that I have indeed lost some unnecessary and unwanted poundage. In week 7, I was down about 2-and-a-half pounds, and in week 8, I lost an additional 2-and-a-half. I started out at a weight of 170, and was down to 165. The following two weeks I maintained that same weight, and then actually gained a pound the next week. Luckily, I managed to lose that extra pound--and then some--and last night, I was down to 163--and that was even <span style="font-style: italic;">af</span><span style="font-style: italic;">ter</span> I'd taken five days off working out so I could go to another trade show in Phoenix for work (though I did manage to get one day on the treadmill in at the hotel I was staying at). It's great to see the weight loss, because it's a more tangible proof that what I'm doing is paying off for me. Ronn is quick to tell me that he doesn't want me to take off too much weight, though. It's not about losing; it's about redistributing, he says. Which I get. But it sure is nice to watch that tummy of mine continue to disappear.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3682.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3682.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a>The workouts themselves have gotten both easier and harder. While I've gotten used to lifting weights more, Ronn makes sure to keep packing the weight on so that the reps are actually harder on me. Today, in fact, I am sore in my chest for the first time in quite a while, as last night, I lifted 120 pounds--the most I've done so far. Last night was all about chest and back, and tonight I suspect it will be all about shoulders and arms. There's still always one day a week where it's an abs-only day, which is great. Ronn says I have to make sure that I suck my stomach in during the workouts. He says I have a bad habit of actually pushing my tummy out when I lift--which makes those ab muscles harden in the wrong direction. Guess I'm going to have to work harder at that.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3662.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3662.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a>I've managed to come quite a way in terms of my core strength. Standing on the half-ball now is fairly easy, and I've managed to figure out jumping rope, too. And last week I managed to do several push-ups on my own--without Ronn putting a towel under me and helping to pull me up. That was quite a boon to my ego, I must say.<br /><br />Friends continue to tell me that I look thinner and more svelte. I do notice in pictures now that my face appears to have gotten thinner. (Maybe I can avoid having that planned chin-tuck after all! LOL!) My clothes fit differently, too. I have to wear belts now to make sure that my pants don't droop too low. Hmmm, guess it means that it will soon be time for me to buy new clothes. Woo hoo! Shopping!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3698.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3698.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a>We're coming up on the three-month mid-point of my six-month workout routine, and things are going swimmingly. I know for sure that I will continue working out even past the six-month point, as I can't imagine not keeping up with this now that it's become such a big part of my life.<br /><br />Anyway, I will try to post more often in the future, as time allows. Talk soon!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">(Pics by Kevin Cazares)</span></span>Ken Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00370546187044348094noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205814407603761297.post-32783318794472496912007-02-16T16:42:00.000-08:002007-02-20T17:49:14.343-08:00Days 13, 14, 15 & 16: Feeling the Results<span style="font-size:85%;">So the last two nights have been super-great workouts, but I'm getting ahead of myself already. I guess I need to backtrack a little bit and catch you up on <span style="font-style: italic;">last </span>week's progress first! Sheesh, I need more time in my weeks!<br /></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3443.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3443.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">It all started with Monday, day 13, another "off" day for me. Maybe it was just that it was a "13" day (and therefore an unlucky day), but I'm beginning to wonder if perhaps Monday nights are not my best night for having my head in the right place for the gym. Even though I did over an hour of cardio the day before, I was still a little shaky when I got to the gym on Monday and started going through the exercises. It wasn't that I couldn't complete any of them. It's just that I my mind and body didn't seem to be as agile when it came to "being in the moment" mentally and physically. I'm assuming these are the days when other people who aren't obliged to show up at the gym (thank God I have to wor</span><span style="font-size:85%;">k out because of the Frontiers follow-up this spring) might decide to skip it and stay at home. But you know, even on my off days, I'm still a little excited about going to the gym, precisely because I know that I'm doing something good for myself. I suppose that outweighs any "blahness" I feel on any given day.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3466.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3466.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Anyway, the rest of the week went well. I had a film screening on Tuesday and had to interview a rock band on Friday, so Ronn and I had to juggle our schedules to make sure I got all four days in. So I was at Train on Monday, Wednesday, Thursday and then Saturday morning for another full hour of ab work. And, Monday excluded, it was a pretty good week of working out. I was especially pleased with</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> myself on Saturday, as this was not only the first time that I attempted to get back onto one of those half-ball contraptions and stay balanced--which I was able to do all on my own after just a little bit of help from Ronn--but it was also the first day that I was able to do 10 "sit-ups" from a completely lying down (with hands over my head) position. This had been an exercise that I couldn't even complete a single rep of, and to have been able to complete 10 was quite the thrill for me. "I'm so proud of you," Ronn said. I was a little proud of myself as well, especially because my friend Kevin--who takes all the pics you see on this blog--was there to witness both of these "firsts" for me.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;">I did 50 minutes of cardio following Saturday's workout so that I could make up for the day of only-cardio that I would normally have, and experienced yet another "first." I was able to do an entire 30 minutes on the elliptical machine, which had previously made my legs and back hurt after only being on the machine for a few minutes. I even played around with the levels of resistance and the cross-range settings so that I could work out different areas of my body (quads, butt) and with increased resistance. I rocked that machine!<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3553.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3553.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">The one thing I have noticed is the lack of soreness that my body feels when I do some of the exercises on the machines now. Ronn had said that as we broke my muscles down, they would come back bigger and stronger, and would therefore be able to handle more weight without getting as sore. And that seems to be the case. Whether we are working on shoulders and chest or biceps and back, my body is "repairing" itself quicker and quicker, and I am becoming more aware of my increasing strength and agility--though I am still far from being able to do free push-ups or pull-ups. For push-ups, Ronn had to put a towel under my waist so he could help pull me up each time. It's harder for me to support my entire body on my own, but I know that in time I will be able to do this. I look forward to the day when I do 10 of those!<br /><br />Until then, stay tuned!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">(Pics by Kevin Cazares)</span></span>Ken Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00370546187044348094noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205814407603761297.post-60687605544318536232007-02-14T16:59:00.000-08:002007-02-15T16:11:51.521-08:00Days 9, 10, 11 & 12: Hitting a Stride<span style="font-size:85%;">OK, apologies for not posting an entry sooner. No, I haven't fallen off the gym bandwagon. I have been faithfully working out with Ronn for the past week and few days, but the truth of the matter is that I've just been busy as hell. Between my day job, then going straight to the gym, then going home to make dinner and try and squeeze in one or two of my favorites shows--plus all my freelance work on the side--life's been hella-busy as of late. That's a good thing, of course, but it leaves little time to catch up with you folks.<br /><br />But enough of the excuses and on with the blog.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">NOTE: </span>Since it's been a while since I've posted, I've kind of forgotten what exactly happened on each night, so I will do my best to recall...</span><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3219_1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3219_1.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">DAY 9: This was by far one of the toughest sessions yet, probably because I had two days off before I was back in the gym, and I got a little lazy. I skipped my weekend cardio routine on Sunday, and--just as I thought might happen--I ended up paying for it on Monday night. The cardio work on the stair machine (which my friend Kevin has not-so-affectionately dubbe</span><span style="font-size:85%;">d "the stairs to nowhere") was more intense than usual, and it took me a little longer to get back into the gym groove. I think Ronn sensed this as well. The stretching that night was even more painful than usual</span><span style="font-size:85%;">. In fact, Ronn did one stretch to my calves where the pain was so intense I had to pull out of it, and could n</span><span style="font-size:85%;">ot seem to relax. Eventually, we got through that and did some work on my abs, then headed downstairs to work out on some of the machines. Again, I just seemed "off" on this night, and many of the exercises didn't come naturally to me as they had on other nights. There were a few times where I got a little testy, too. It was just one of those nights. I left the gym feeling a little disoriented and not altogether pleased that I had accomplished anything. It was the first time where I felt frustration.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3224.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3224.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Day 10: By contrast, Tuesday night was awesome. My cardio went well (I even mad</span><span style="font-size:85%;">e it up to 10 full minutes on that damned elliptical machine, which had previously been giving me problems in my upper legs), and the stretching exercise upstairs with Ronn was gentle and even a bit tender. We talked and laughed throughout the night, which also included 130 stomach crunches ("I'm amazed!" Ronn exlaimed. "When we started, you had trouble doing 15") and a lot of work on the weights. This is something that I had been missing. Ronn has focused a lot of my workouts on cardio, which has been great for making my sweat (and lose weight; more on that later), but I've been feeling a need to do some lifting to balance it all out. Well, on this night, I got my wish, and then some. It was one of those nights where I really pushed myself to my physical limits, and, as we worked out my arms and chest, </span><span style="font-size:85%;">I could feel the burn, but I loved it. It was one of those nights where you leave the gym exhausted and drained, but totally content for it.<br /><br />Days 11 & 12: After having Wednesday and Thursday of last week off so I could cover a convention for <a href="http://avnonline.com/"><span style="font-style: italic;">AVN Online</span></a>, Ronn and I were back on Friday and Saturday, and they were two more good days. On Friday, it was all about my shoulders and back, while Saturday was a full hour of ab work. Friday wasn't so bad, though I did wake up on Sunday being a bit sore, but Saturday... well, that was quite the session. I had a lot of trouble with abs in the very beginning of this whole project, but I was able to get through an entire hour of ab work without collapsing. Not that I didn't want to at times, but Ronn pushed me through the variety of exercises (including--again--several different kinds of crunches) with flying colors, and I'm proud to say I didn't do too bad a job at it either.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3238_1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://photos.imageevent.com/lalalifer/kensgetfitprogrampics/websize/IMG_3238_1.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">On Sunday, I did 50 minutes of cardio by myself, including 25 minutes on the stairs to nowhere, 15 minutes on the elliptical (another record!) and the rest of the time on the treadmill at a steep incline. Because I was supposed to have gotten a full hour in, my neighbor Angela and I went up to Runyon Canyon and did a mini-hike. I was surprised, however, that even the smaller hike was hell on my legs. They were sore as can be when I got home later that afternoon. I could barely stand up or sit down.<br /><br />However, the one thing I've noticed is that the workouts have gotten a little "easier." Ronn has pretty much inducted all of my body parts into the workouts, so I'm finding that, as I'm introduced the new machines and exercises, it's becoming a little easier for me to understand the routine that much quicker. I guess I'm hitting my stride.<br /><br />I'm already two workouts into this week, and have another tonight, so tomorrow I will update the blog with those write-ups. I'm looking forward to tonight's workout, too. It just keeps getting better.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">(Pics by Kevin Cazares)</span></span>Ken Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00370546187044348094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205814407603761297.post-12123713780318369592007-02-04T17:35:00.000-08:002008-12-09T22:47:19.188-08:00Days 7 & 8: "My Hardest Working Client"<span style="font-size:85%;">I got a text message from Trainer Ronn yesterday. I'd sent him one after getting out of the shower and realizing that my belly had, in fact, gotten noticeably smaller than it was two weeks ago when I started this whole project. I was able to fit into a shirt that had previously been way too tight around my middle section, and this little development made me so happy that I had to share the news with Ronn. So I texted him to say "Dude, I've lost weight!" or something to that effect. Ronn's response was typically effusive in its praise: "XOXO. Thanks for letting me know. Cannot wait to see you on Monday for another hard session! You are my hardest working client."</span><br /><div><div><div><div><div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNCiV3UYSl4LDOfpIdFQ6U_BQarEkCM5aPqMwJIewPTuA905czX4rNF1drmMNGb9if7P37GEidJaFJZRAaba-KC92aTxOXxk-OmuL3WucAx5WA4nT4YOz_nUr7O_nUdSk1nn-NrMLY/s1600-h/IMG_3213.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5027871199975839314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNCiV3UYSl4LDOfpIdFQ6U_BQarEkCM5aPqMwJIewPTuA905czX4rNF1drmMNGb9if7P37GEidJaFJZRAaba-KC92aTxOXxk-OmuL3WucAx5WA4nT4YOz_nUr7O_nUdSk1nn-NrMLY/s320/IMG_3213.JPG" border="0" /></a>This message--and the physical proof in the pudding of my minorly diminished belly--was just what I needed, too. On Thursday night, my sixth actual day of working out in the gym with Ronn, I was a little disappointed to discover that I'd actually gained a pound instead of taking any off. I was a bit perplexed about this. Ronn noticed it as well, and made sure to point out to me that the new weight might very well have been new muscle mass. Just hearing Ronn put it into perspective made me feel better. He's that good. But as I told him later, "You know, it doesn't really matter what the scale says. I <em>feel </em>better about myself and my body, so even if the scale says one thing, I have to trust what I'm feeling inside and how I feel when I see my body in the mirror now." </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">Sure enough, looking in the mirror after a workout is not the same experience as it used to be after I got out of the shower. I see my body in a whole new light these days. It's not just an awkward, out-of-shape mass of flesh anymore. It's a work-in-progress, to be sure, but I see what it is becoming. I finally see the potential in what I can turn it into. I feel like a sculptor who has been chipping away and away at a bulk of non-formed clay and is finally starting to see his vision take place. I see the body I want for myself, and I know that I am on the way to achieving that body. And it makes me happy.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">And so it followed that my workouts with Ronn this week were both productive and fulfilling.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5027872428336486018" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJLNLL6GSvfYhswqGpJMoJVTUS_UgBzvczWGI7EvccSwOfJRaFQVe51odG0kzaOxjxo4924PaQ2VTm47EfRkqwd1uiSMh5a5Gkmykd3eIdyHd2o1Y6sw0vrExZ8snbzJgoFbGbhvQ_/s320/IMG_3245.JPG" border="0" />Thursday night was heavy on cardio again. Ronn had me do more leg lunge walks across the floor, followed by several sets of jumping jacks and whatnot. There was a lot of ab stuff as well -- more stomach crunches in a variety of fashions -- but the highlight of the evening was when Ronn grabbed several sets of dumbbells in varying sizes and placed them all on the floor in front of the steps that go upstairs and told me that I had to carry each set up the stairs while taking every other step. At first, it wasn't so hard. I started with the smallest weight, of course, and was able to get to the top and hand them off to Ronn without breaking much of a sweat. But as the weights got heavier -- and I got more tired -- the exercise became harder and harder. By the time I reached the top with the last set of weights --which weighed 25 pounds each -- I was dead. Of course, Ronn wasn't done with me. "Now take them all back down taking one step at a time on your way down and every other step on your way back up," he said. This wasn't as bad as carrying the weights up, but it still wasn't all that fun. And just as I reached the bottom with the final set of weights and looked up to Ronn for direction, he said, "First of all, I love you, and second of all, bring them all back up to me." </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">"I hate you," I joked, taking a big swig of water before starting back up the steps with the smallest set of weights.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">When the exercise was done (I'm happy to report that, yes, I was able to complete the whole thing without fail), the session was over as well. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqRNaxukOwrIUMbZ21gSmdVO2JIk04n0-dB5bESnQWL5tz_ENNRAH5qJ7V3ncbwXu4hrqalEzkSBmNb7ZYReD10ImZ4E0b-HbgPjAV0zrdgKNdbAQ003Lzr2yLEw96e_ET94RB7ewF/s1600-h/IMG_3261.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5027871844220933746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqRNaxukOwrIUMbZ21gSmdVO2JIk04n0-dB5bESnQWL5tz_ENNRAH5qJ7V3ncbwXu4hrqalEzkSBmNb7ZYReD10ImZ4E0b-HbgPjAV0zrdgKNdbAQ003Lzr2yLEw96e_ET94RB7ewF/s320/IMG_3261.JPG" border="0" /></a>Friday night was equally as strenuous, and, with my legs still a bit sore from the previous night's efforts, completing some of the more leg- and butt-focused exercises was a bit hard. While I was on the treadmill, Ronn came over to see how I was doing. He then upped the speed and had me run in place, which I did for about a minute before he said, "I'd like to see you begin to incorporate jogging into your cardio now." OK, no sweat. "I love the way you take everything I give you," he said. Other men have said this to me in the past, of course (har! har!), but not quite with the same resonance that it has when Ronn says it.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">Upstairs, Ronn put me on all fours and had me keep my knee high up in the air while kicking out in various directions (to the side, to the back) before then sticking my leg straight out to the side and moving my foot in 5 circles forward, followed by 5 circles backward. This nearly killed me. It wasn't until Ronn put his hand out as a guide that I was able to see the circle he wanted and complete the exercise. But the second set of this same exercise was not nearly as "easy." I almost failed, and even though Ronn's goading of "Don't stop now! You want this! Give it to me, boy!" helped me to finish the exercise, I was actually angry with him for about 10 seconds after it was over. I was exhausted, and my butt muscles were screaming out in agony. I couldn't look at him for about 15 seconds while I gathered myself again. Then all was fine.</span><br /><br /></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxwE4ACCjileMXNnBp1zeoJRXx24_ZfWj9t9__XM1ghHMvKmxV0aWN1gjm1Zg24u-Z3ac158v-vbCmwC7wNCJ0e7dqew-5AyPhM-SPHxqjHSeFw6WfLFcXHfycRl-k5-A1yssk75E7/s1600-h/IMG_3275.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5027873703941772962" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxwE4ACCjileMXNnBp1zeoJRXx24_ZfWj9t9__XM1ghHMvKmxV0aWN1gjm1Zg24u-Z3ac158v-vbCmwC7wNCJ0e7dqew-5AyPhM-SPHxqjHSeFw6WfLFcXHfycRl-k5-A1yssk75E7/s320/IMG_3275.JPG" border="0" /></a>It was a hard night all around. Ronn wanted me to do 100 jumps while jumping rope, something I have never been able to master because of my lack of coordination and balance. (Ronn tells me I need to stop saying that I don't have good balance and coordination, but I've been struggling with it for my entire life, so it's hard to let go of it.) Ronn wanted me to do 100 single jumps, but I was only able to complete five before the rope would catch on my foot and I would have to stop. This became extremely frustrating to me. I tried and tried and tried, but I could not get past five or six jumps before the damned roap would catch on my shoe. It's like my body was failing to keep up with my head. I couldn't get the rope to come around at just the right time. "You have a temper," Ronn said with a smile. "That's the first time I've seen that from you." </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">"I don't like not being able to do something," I said. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">"It takes practice," he said. "You'll get it."</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">Then we moved on, and it was all good. I did some more work on my legs, then did some time on the butterfly machine and suddenly the night was over again. "You're doing great," Ronn told me as we walked outside and gave each other a hug goodnight.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">I meant to get another day of cardio in this weekend, but my neighbor flaked on our weekly hike in Runyon today, and I used the time to catch up on some past due writing. I will probably pay for this tomorrow at the gym. My "cheat day" extravaganze consisted of a tuna burger from the macrobiotic restaurant (Cafe M) that I love so much, followed at dinner by a Thai Cobb salad from Fred 62. I didn't have any alcohol, though, when I went out to the bars on both Friday and Saturday. I'm sticking with water for now. I'm enjoying how it feels to be able to fit into this T-shirt again, and I want it to stay that way. Now, when I can start "filling it out" with some muscle, that's when I'll really start to jump for joy. But for now, I'm feeling pretty darned happy with and proud of myself. Life is truly good!</span></div><br /><div><strong><span style="font-size:78%;">(Pics by Kevin Cazares)</span></strong></div></div></div></div></div></div>Ken Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00370546187044348094noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205814407603761297.post-30766157340230374432007-01-31T23:12:00.000-08:002008-12-09T22:47:19.678-08:00Days 5 & 6: "A Different Person"<span style="font-size:85%;">It's been a great week so far in terms of the workout program. Things are going great in the gym with Ronn, who pulled me aside after our last session Tuesday night and said, "I'm really proud of you, Ken. It's almost like I'm training a different person than I was last week. You come in and you get right to work, and the changes are very noticeable."</span><br /><br /><div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">This was, of course, good to hear. God knows I struggled with my fears about working out and "not measuring up" for so long, there were times when I was certain I would never be able to overcome them. But in just a week's time, after only four workouts and one day of hiking in Runyon Canyon, I felt suddenly confident and energized by my newfound commitment to improving my health, body and life.</span> </div><div><br /> </div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzrRomkka2UJ3simYrUtn64_2oRRumip9r15ObeetK4RKy8vQe71Ne0xuAnGKu_NHEusrJMGU0qjEDd8LMcyLNXt0y0wHPj2Kunk_4AreYtx6pulgl6caohpkEgdiI96AHdB4pMSdT/s1600-h/IMG_3225.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5026468446477096322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzrRomkka2UJ3simYrUtn64_2oRRumip9r15ObeetK4RKy8vQe71Ne0xuAnGKu_NHEusrJMGU0qjEDd8LMcyLNXt0y0wHPj2Kunk_4AreYtx6pulgl6caohpkEgdiI96AHdB4pMSdT/s320/IMG_3225.JPG" border="0" /></a>Monday's workout was by far one of the best we've had so far. It consisted mostly of cardio work and some light resistance work. The night got off to an OK start. Ronn put me on the scale and I was just a little bummed to see that I'd not lost any weight since starting the program a week ago, but Ronn immediately put me at ease by saying, "That doesn't mean you haven't lost weight. If you've put on muscle from working out, that weighs twice as much as fat, so it would balance out what you've lost." OK. I guess I can deal with that. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">Then it was upstairs to stretch me out (gotta say, this is still my least favorite part of my time at the gym; Ronn really knows how to "go deep" with those stretches), and then Ronn put me on the floor and had me do several different sets of crunches. Then he had me do 25 jumping jacks, walk backwards like a crab, do several squat-thrusts, and hold my stomach in real tight while he dropped a heavy ball onto my abdomen. That was a little weird, but he said it was a good exercise. I'm not arguing. During the squat thrusts, Ronn became excited. "Your energy is way up tonight," he said. "Who is this guy?"</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">Downstairs we did some work on a few of the weight machines. He had me lift myself up with one leg onto one of the workout benches, an exercise that is apparently really good for my butt. This is a pretty strenuous task, but I managed to eek out 15 on each leg. Ronn kept shaking his head with a smile on his face. "Do you notice that you have more strength than you did just last week?" he asked. I really hadn't given it much thought until then, but it hit me that I wasn't tiring as quickly as I had just several days before. After the workout, I did 10 minutes on the stair machine and 20 minutes on the treadmill at a 5.0 incline, and then called it a night. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">On my way home, I swung by Target to pick up another pair of workout pants, and saw a bunch of other clothes that I liked. I went into the dressing room and tried them on, and for the first time in a very long time, I didn't have the same sense of digust when I saw my body in the mirror. Even though there wasn't all that much different about it at all, I began to envision how I was going to look very soon, and I saw my body in a whole new light. I felt good, sexy even, trying on those new clothes. I ended up rewarding myself by buying all of them. When I got home, there was a text message from Ronn. "Tonight was your best session yet," it said. I had to smile. </span><br /></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2B_T6REzrudOqcu996wzFtkNRICybF42dyiJBbTI44DV2vhDGsNJBHMMWLT_q4owvWIJyd9CLo2VpMOhHhPsPzEWcffefyk2A2L0Ao2z1reOMricM3NaKHx5rQn18a6pqOWL7o3_-/s1600-h/IMG_3230.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5026468841614087570" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2B_T6REzrudOqcu996wzFtkNRICybF42dyiJBbTI44DV2vhDGsNJBHMMWLT_q4owvWIJyd9CLo2VpMOhHhPsPzEWcffefyk2A2L0Ao2z1reOMricM3NaKHx5rQn18a6pqOWL7o3_-/s320/IMG_3230.JPG" border="0" /></a>Tuesday night was another great session. I started with 30 minutes of cardio work on the treadmill and stair machine. Ronn came over toward the end and had me increase the speed on the stair machine and take every other step. This was pretty intense, and I tired quickly, so he switched back and forth between faster and slower speeds so that I did several "sets" of taking every other step. Back upstairs we went for more stretching (ouch! ouch!), and then back downstairs to put me to work on weights. There was a lot of dumbbell work to be done. Mostly Ronn focused this session on my my arms and shoulders, and I surpised myself with the amount of weight I could lift as he increased the amount with each set. In between sets of reps on the machines, Ronn would have me do more jumping jacks or stomach crunches. I like his style of mixing things up. I never get bored of doing the same things over and over; there's always a new exercise to learn or try, so that keeps me interested, which is good.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">I had to attend a film screening tonight, so Ronn and I didn't work out together, and in the middle of the day I suddenly realized that I was a little bummed about it. This was a bit surprising to me. Me? <em>Wanting</em> to be at the gym? <em>Wanting</em> to do physical labor? Unheard of. But it's true. I missed working out tonight, and I'm looking forward to getting back in there tomorrow and seeing what else I'm capable of doing. Onward and upward, as they say!</span></div><div> </div><div></div><div><strong><span style="font-size:78%;">(Pics by Kevin Cazares)</span></strong></div></div>Ken Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00370546187044348094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205814407603761297.post-33430468089256774472007-01-28T18:40:00.000-08:002007-01-28T18:57:50.784-08:00Reflections of the First Week<span style="font-size:85%;">So, I've made it through my first week of training, and you know what, it's not so bad.<br /><br />It's funny, but I thought that I would be dreading going to the gym every night, and be all sluggish about getting there. But it's quite the opposite for me. I actually find myself kind of looking forward to getting there and seeing what Ronn has in store for me. True, those last two workouts with him were pretty ferocious, and I was in some serious pain for a couple days last week, but it honestly feels good to challenge myself in this way. It's a brand new high for me.<br /><br />It's great to walk into the gym and actually feel like I belong there. I always thought of athletics as the world of the "other people"--the hotter, prettier people, those who just coasted through life with blessed genes and could easily maintain six-pack abs and great biceps and then wield them to their advantage. (Please, I can't tell you how many little gym rats walk through West Hollywood in their tiny wife-beater tanks and their designer sweat pants as if they're entitled to all the best that life has to offer just because they have great bodies and good skin. And anyone who's been to WeHo knows <em>exactly</em> what I'm talking about.) But when I walk into Train, I feel as if it's part of <em>my</em> world as well. I'm not an outsider anymore.<br /><br />I feel a little more energized and a little more invigorated now that I've got something physically demanding going on in my life. Going to the gym is giving me a strange sense of "purpose"... or rather, a goal. Something to strive for. I feel like I'm accomplishing something, and that makes me feel good.<br /><br />I'm surprised how closely I'm sticking to the regimen as well. Today, for instance, I planned to go to Train and spend 30 mins on the treadmill, but when I got there, they were closed. (I got my days confused; they are open later on Saturdays!) For a brief instant, I thought, "Well, guess that means I won't be working out today." But immediately I stopped myself, called my neighbor and said "Let's take your dog and go hiking in Runyon Canyon." And boy, did that hike kick my ass! But in a good way. (My neighbor, on the other hand, is in some serious pain from her back. And <em>she </em>was the one who was just tearing up that hill while I was panting like her little Terrier.)<br /><br />The diet's not too bad, even if it is a little repetitive. But there are ways to mix it up, so I just have to get a little more creative. And I will. Yesterday was my "cheat day" (I've chosen Saturdays as mine), but instead of chowing down on a Big Mac or something, I just treated myself to an extra breakfast smoothie instead. I must be crazy: Who else cheats by eating <em>more</em> healthy foods?)<br /><br />Anyway, my legs are killing me from that hike, but I'm looking forward to getting back into the gym tomorrow night with Ronn and hitting the weights again. Ronn's going to weigh me to see how much weight I've lost so far (here's hoping it's a good number), so that should be interesting. Hope you'll check back to see what kind of progress I'm making.</span>Ken Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00370546187044348094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205814407603761297.post-34166299718465202222007-01-26T12:00:00.000-08:002008-12-09T22:47:20.393-08:00Day Four: Redemption Day<span style="font-size:85%;">So last night was yet another really good workout, and also a much more productive and encouraging one than the one from Wednesday night, when I wasn't able to complete a few of the exercises. In fact, I think last night's was the best workout yet. And yeah, I'm feeling it pretty hard today.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcB79oeT-HrHmEKujAlXLq6Ot0C4LmpKCzwN7i7mJNRAtcBKrwd5sMfP62sq817bw4ZIgkVygvjkKY1JImhqQIm0B9m_Teqg3MY6u5NXPP5X9KFazr6spovuR609nzshwIb3mxgyFU/s1600-h/IMG_3248.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcB79oeT-HrHmEKujAlXLq6Ot0C4LmpKCzwN7i7mJNRAtcBKrwd5sMfP62sq817bw4ZIgkVygvjkKY1JImhqQIm0B9m_Teqg3MY6u5NXPP5X9KFazr6spovuR609nzshwIb3mxgyFU/s320/IMG_3248.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024441625638649442" border="0" /></a>Since I skipped cardio on Wednesday (Ronn said that I'd done enough to burn calories through the leg workouts and could afford to skip it for the night), Ronn started me out on the stair-climbing machine again. He put me on for five minutes and talked to me about my diet and cooking habits. I told him about the perfect omelette I'd made for dinner the night before (and on my first try, too!), and he again encouraged me to try making the turkey dish he'd put on my diet plan. I made a mental note to make it that night.<br /><br />Then it was upstairs for the stretching part. "I'm going to go even deeper with the stretches tonight, so I'm going to have you lie on the floor this time instead of the table," Ronn said. And yeah, he was right; those stretches were pretty intense. He really went to town on my calves and legs. I figured out pretty quickly we were going to be focusing on legs again.<br /><br />Of course, that was only after we did several different sets of ab routines. Ronn had me do some standard stomach crunches, then introduced me to a few variations that--thankfully--didn't involve fully sitting up. And even though my abs were still store from the previous three nights, I did pretty well on all of the exercises. After that, Ronn had me do several sets of walking leg lunches, where I followed him across the floor. He had me do three "laps" (back and forth across the length of the floor three times), and I followed each one with a set of 25 jumping jacks. Boy, was that taxing!<br /><br />I told Ronn about my little emotional outburst the previous night, and he had a huge smile on his face. "That is so awesome that you told me that," he said. "That is a pretty common occurrence for people who are working out. I've had some clients break into a cry right in the middle of a session before. It's great for releasing tension." (Well, that's good to know at least.) "It was really big of you to tell me that, and I'm glad you felt open enough to do so," Ronn added.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeU7DzrglDqnImuylAgJrX817E5E017rfDeMtyI7wsxqsnbjLeL6x5xrj4CGR8EIfP28FcaDpZPfQqRPFGPVuDBVaKY2yE_47k4SeG7rzNVkFZOq7hRstMmE5athX9A_hw73oGq8aa/s1600-h/IMG_3217.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeU7DzrglDqnImuylAgJrX817E5E017rfDeMtyI7wsxqsnbjLeL6x5xrj4CGR8EIfP28FcaDpZPfQqRPFGPVuDBVaKY2yE_47k4SeG7rzNVkFZOq7hRstMmE5athX9A_hw73oGq8aa/s320/IMG_3217.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024440478882381362" border="0" /></a>Then it was downstairs to put me to work on some of the machines again, this time working out my chest and arms again. And it seemed to go really well. When I was on one of the chest-flexing machines, Ronn increased the weight from 30 to 50, and finally 80, pounds, and I surprised myself by being able to complete each set of 10 reps. "You're a strong boy tonight," Ronn said at one point during the routine. "Considering last night's workout--how much I worked you and the stuff you didn't complete--this is great. I'm really proud of you."<br /><br />After all that (we probably worked on about 6-8 different machines), Ronn put me back on the treadmill for 30 mins at the 3.5 speed and told me I should increase my incline from 2.0 to 3.0 after 5 minutes, and then again to 5.0 after 15 minutes. It was a good time for me to actually look around the gym a little bit and pay attention to the people. I noticed all different types, from your frumpy middle-aged men and post-pregnant women to your standard gym rats and body builders, and also noticed a few cute guys working out around me. Still, no one's cuter than Rich, the tall redhead who works the front desk. He reminds me of the Kris Kringle character from the old Rankin & Bass claymation Christmas special </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Santa Claus is Comin' to Town</span><span style="font-size:85%;">, which was always a favorite show of mine as a kid. At one point, Rich walks through the gym putting weights back in their place and tidying up, and I notice for the first time the results of his own workout regimen. Damn, nice chest and ass. I bet his boyfriend is one happy man.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0MFiVog2dU85BNSl9e5Pnukb5wPYJqWFdPD9HpdQs_lclzU4yS-1EKYINFFUPRZQNfej05i5zilQ4RgAIwgOJO-1E5bHPCDBY5uLlOzZKcy0blDxgm0ujVlFEZa6k0zWgq1ZibpCP/s1600-h/IMG_3227.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0MFiVog2dU85BNSl9e5Pnukb5wPYJqWFdPD9HpdQs_lclzU4yS-1EKYINFFUPRZQNfej05i5zilQ4RgAIwgOJO-1E5bHPCDBY5uLlOzZKcy0blDxgm0ujVlFEZa6k0zWgq1ZibpCP/s320/IMG_3227.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024441926286360178" border="0" /></a><br />After my workout, I went on home and made Ronn's "famous" turkey dish--a kind of "ghoulash" involving ground meat, oregano, basil, pepper and tomatoes that is pretty tasty and filling. Ronn said I could eat 1/4 cup of brown rice if I wanted to, so I added it to the mixture along with some green peppers for texture, and it was pretty good. Still, it could've used a little bit of soy sauce for added flavor. LOL!<br /><br />Since I met Ronn earlier than usual last night, it was good to get home at a decent hour and still have some time to watch a bit of TV before bed. So I caught up on recent episodes of </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Heroes</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> and</span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" > Studio 60 on Sunset Blvd.</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> before I made my way to bed. I was a little wired from the workout (and more probably from the Ripped Force I drank throughout), so I couldn't sleep at first. So I watched an episode of </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >How I Met Your Mother</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> and drank some hot tea, and I was out before you know it. And yes, today I can barely walk, but it's all good.<br /><br />I'm off tonight (Friday), and just have to do 30 minutes on the treadmill tomorrow, but I'll post some additional thoughts and things I'm learning over the weekend. Catch you soon!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:78%;">(Pics by Kevin Cazares)</span></span><br /></span>Ken Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00370546187044348094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205814407603761297.post-11985646875469812662007-01-25T22:40:00.000-08:002008-12-09T22:47:21.847-08:00Day Three: Health is Hell!<span style="font-size:85%;">I <em>HATE</em> MY TRAINER! </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">OK, so that's not <em>totally</em> true, but right now my body is aching in places I didn't even know I had muscles, and Ronn is the only person I can pinpoint for the pain. (Smile.) My biceps are killing me, my abs are screaming out in agony, and my upper legs are sore as can be. And all for what? So I can look good? Hell, maybe I'd rather be fat. I'm kidding, of course. I knew this wasn't going to be easy, and I knew that there was some pain involved. It's just too bad that the pain can't be contained to the pain I feel when I'm at the gym. Why do I gotta carry it home with me?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_qCOL-U9JciPKD67XoTc9K-udIoO7hU9Vrz8lXYhTbcrcMt5hTjJ5aBiKFJFmcfJt3zNuGg5RFZFoK374rdbznKjRNU_GLJTqiQq3SiMzLdrpFFpmiwklfcOJqZedyylwDk9Gnydk/s1600-h/IMG_3197.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024226095589801474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_qCOL-U9JciPKD67XoTc9K-udIoO7hU9Vrz8lXYhTbcrcMt5hTjJ5aBiKFJFmcfJt3zNuGg5RFZFoK374rdbznKjRNU_GLJTqiQq3SiMzLdrpFFpmiwklfcOJqZedyylwDk9Gnydk/s320/IMG_3197.JPG" border="0" /></a>OK, that's enough of the whining. I know it's all temporary anyway. Ronn says that I'll look back on this in a week or two when the soreness stops coming and laugh. Well, maybe so, but I'm not laughing now. Nor was I last night when I got home from my third and most intense workout yet. Last night was all about legs, which are usually the easiest for me to work out, but also the one area of my body that makes me feel the most worn out after I've worked them.<br /><br />Anyway, I got to the gym a little late last night (damn that L.A. traffic), so Ronn took me right upstairs to stretch me out. He went even deeper with the stretches than he had before, which was not very pleasant at all. Funny, I don't remember stretching before gym class in school to be that painful. Ouch!<br /><br />Then Ronn put me to work on one of those big balls that have become so popular in gyms now. He had me do some "sit-ups" or crunches or something to that effect while on the ball, then he had me lay down and put the ball between my feet and hoist it into the air and twist it back and forth with my legs. As I soon found out, this looked a lot easier when Ronn was demonstrating it. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpOs-ZecGA0EvWo_OPFLWUZmaMTK3rh_LiwjBBC488LrrReqnFBRIrrFSWiotBOMxN3ro0kvOwE3KTPgVrhvWSNTVB3CgPSHuQS-05P_TiGbmuJfSt52d4Pv8p2ctZQeveR5782a14/s1600-h/IMG_3205.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024226422007315986" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpOs-ZecGA0EvWo_OPFLWUZmaMTK3rh_LiwjBBC488LrrReqnFBRIrrFSWiotBOMxN3ro0kvOwE3KTPgVrhvWSNTVB3CgPSHuQS-05P_TiGbmuJfSt52d4Pv8p2ctZQeveR5782a14/s320/IMG_3205.JPG" border="0" /></a>Anyway, Ronn then stood over me facing the other direction while I was lying down and had me lift my feet to his hands. He gave my feet a swift push and told me to resist letting them fall to the floor. This is a pretty intense ab workout, in case you haven't tried it yet. It's <em>not</em>one of my favorites. Usually it's not a problem for me to put my legs up in the air (mmm-kay?), but last night, I was only able to get my feet back up to his hands maybe three out of the 10 times he wanted me to do it. Still, I fought to get them back up. "That's good," Ronn said. "I like that you don't give up. Every time you fail, you get a lot out of it, so just keep trying to get your legs back up in the air."<br /><br />After that, Ronn tried to get me to balance myself on this half-ball thing that you're supposed to stand on. Fat chance for me. I have terrible coordination and balancing skills, and though I was able to stand and support myself, I couldn't complete a single one of the squat exercises that Ronn wanted me to do. Every time I tried to squat down, I would lose my balance and fall off the damned thing. Ronn says we're going to make this one of our goals. Gee, I'm thrilled.<br /><br />Downstairs, Ronn put me to work on several more machines, including one where I had to support a barbell on my shoulders and do leg squats that killed my ass and upper legs. Ouch, sweetie, ouch! As we did more and more exercises on different machines, I began to realize that my legs maybe weren't as developed as I'd thought they were, but Ronn did comment a few times that I had strong legs, so I guess maybe I do. They just don't look as good as they used to when I was younger. Oh well.<br /><br />All in all, it was a pretty good workout, though a very taxing one. Ronn ended it with another sit-up ab routine, and again, I failed to complete just one rep. "That's another goal," he said. "In two weeks, you're going to be able to do five of those."<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2rwZGRsUnpQEGS-mFvm6Vax6lWl1jSu6quOjvYk9ehsb8oGDdYCPz3stnHAw8pvmyXLzrJfRRAcBnLPy2o5D4WFvfM2JaYXYtZJNODwzDpMv7aDLCWzIPQu9HXp-wHXwdlV73j3bE/s1600-h/IMG_3238.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024226860093980194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2rwZGRsUnpQEGS-mFvm6Vax6lWl1jSu6quOjvYk9ehsb8oGDdYCPz3stnHAw8pvmyXLzrJfRRAcBnLPy2o5D4WFvfM2JaYXYtZJNODwzDpMv7aDLCWzIPQu9HXp-wHXwdlV73j3bE/s320/IMG_3238.JPG" border="0" /></a>"Whatever you say, master," I replied. God knows I would certainly prefer not to feel like such a wuss, but my abs are sore from two nights of working out already, and every other muscle in my body is now aching as well, especially my biceps, which are killing me. So my body just seems to be saying, "Sorry, but no can do."<br /><br />Still, I feel good from the workout. I feel like I'm accomplishing something. It's also affecting me emotionally as well. I'm not sure what triggered it, but as soon as I pulled into my parking space at my apartment complex last night, I just started crying. Not like tears-streaming-down-my-face-in-fits-of-sobs crying, but an odd combination of crying and laughing that just washed over me and that I couldn't stop. It was like that moment when Robert de Niro breaks down in <em>Analyze This</em>. There were no tears, but it was this intense release of emotion that suddenly came pouring out of me. It only lasted about 30 seconds, but afterwards, I felt refreshed, like I'd just relieved myself of a lot of pent-up stress or something. I'm not sure if that's normal or not, but it was so weird and so natural all at the same time that I found it to be rather refreshing.<br /><br />And, of course, today I'm even more sore, and this time I'm feeling it everywhere. I'm not sure what Ronn has planned for me tonight, but I sure hope he doesn't want to work on my biceps again! OUCH! </span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"><br />(Pics by Kevin Cazares)</span></strong><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span>Ken Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00370546187044348094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205814407603761297.post-63330206494699111462007-01-24T12:44:00.000-08:002008-12-09T22:47:22.092-08:00Day Two: Feeling the Burn<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNH7_NgkVzw5xIPIDCMMStuzjPcG4R-E8RA2UIfms_oXUROgPkD4H26H1gtJyvP2ri4jHSoCnPta3CI1LN9n-DxFkJgOsZnbMGyKflnAF0X9u0InSMiV44fCKHG8LVsHTiwppYifm0/s1600-h/WEIGHTLIFTING.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5023712726738845170" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNH7_NgkVzw5xIPIDCMMStuzjPcG4R-E8RA2UIfms_oXUROgPkD4H26H1gtJyvP2ri4jHSoCnPta3CI1LN9n-DxFkJgOsZnbMGyKflnAF0X9u0InSMiV44fCKHG8LVsHTiwppYifm0/s200/WEIGHTLIFTING.gif" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Well, so much for an extended honeymoon period for me and Ronn. LOL! </span><br /><br /><div><div><div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">Last night he worked me hard, and I'm feeling it today, that's for sure.</span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYW4bTMMonAfqsFGmomX2nXdt3MBgvLH4O9wfQm3f_iJwcPv2iUy6D92tqgg98BPCHUy1JFI_kR-bHFhzVn-AAiO9STSYpRINWOMIb-jODkblMhkvyaKzBqCPvnTJbCwF5efWBtxBZ/s1600-h/Weightlifting%20005.jpg"></a><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">First, I swung by Capitol Drugs in West Hollywood and picking up a big container of Ispure protein powder (in delicious Creamy Vanilla!), a case of Ripped Force energy drink (which Ronn says I should drink prior to working out) and a case of Isopure water (to be consumed following a workout). One of the very attractive employees--an adorable 20-something blond boy by the name of Tori--came up to me and asked if I needed any help, then said, "Are you on MySpace?" Turns out he'd seen me on there and remembered my eyes. "I remember liking your pictures," he said with a criminally adorable smile. After I dropped $118(!!!) on my purchases, I made it to Train just after 6:30, got changed and jumped onto the treadmill.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">Ronn finished up with another client and came over to join me, and asked me how I was doing. "I'm a little sore, but OK," I replied. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">"Good," he said. "'Cause you're about to get really sore."</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">Great.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">Ronn talks to me while I spend 21 minutes on the treadmill, after which my shirt is already damp with perspiration. "I like to see that wetness there," Ronn says. "That's good." He then takes me upstairs to stretch me again. This time, I respond more favorably to his stretching, though, since Ronn has said he's going to be a little more aggressive with me, the calve stretches even MORE painful than they were the night before. "This is good for you," Ronn tells me. "You want this to hurt." Thankfully, I grit my teeth and resist the urge to grab his hair and yank it hard and then say, "That was good for you, too." The other stretches are more enjoyable (Can I just say that I love when he grabs my legs and hoists them into the air without sounding like a power bottom?), and it's easier to relax when it doesn't feel like my legs are being pulled out of my sockets.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">Then it's back downstairs for some work on the abdominal machines. Surprisingly, I don't do so bad on them. At least not as bad as I expected I wouldIt helps that Ronn is to me and keeping me focused during the rests between sets. When Ronn asks me to give him 10 crunches, I do so easily. "That's it, Ken!" he exclaims. "Those were excellent. Lightyears beyond what you did last night." </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">We then proceed to spend the rest of the session working out my biceps and triceps. He makes me do several sets of curls with 12-pound dumbbells, and sets me to work on several machines that focus on arms. (Eventually, I even hope to start learning the names of some of these machines. LOL!) Through it all, Ronn remains a driving force in my success. "That's my boy," he coos at one point, "Let's do it, daddy" at another. (Strange how similar his training technique is to the way I talk when I'm in bed with someone, but I digress...)</span> </div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVENvckusIUMeFfJ2481D_LLBnuTTHNfYQWyTBmWUhatawCHBQpkloxTvIRxsOg3DXwhC5J8jH_o0nMThqRap74y8lskZTCTQlgjJWq9dWA2MfxLH0g7x_Fi5kLEgwQyJ68I_E8WQB/s1600-h/gator.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5023712374551526882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVENvckusIUMeFfJ2481D_LLBnuTTHNfYQWyTBmWUhatawCHBQpkloxTvIRxsOg3DXwhC5J8jH_o0nMThqRap74y8lskZTCTQlgjJWq9dWA2MfxLH0g7x_Fi5kLEgwQyJ68I_E8WQB/s200/gator.jpg" border="0" /></a>Since I showed up earlier than the night before, the session is longer than the previous night's, and, while Ronn has upped the ante considerably, I'm able to pull off all of the reps with only a little bit of struggle during certain ones. "You're going to hate me Thursday morning," he says, referring to the soreness he predicts I will feel when I wake up in two days. Lovely.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div></div><div></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />We finish the night out with five minutes "climbing stairs" on a step machine that had to have been invented by a true sadist, but I just breathe deeply and grit my teeth again and try to smile. Afterwards, I feel spent, but in a good way. On my way home from the gym, I swing by Whole Foods and Ralph's to pick up the rest of my groceries ($69 worth), then make my way home to relax with my kitty Masha and watch an episode of <em>Gilmore Girls</em> while eating my chicken breast dinner. This time I put a little bit of Honey Hickory mustard (no sodium, no fat, and only 2 grams of sugar! Yippee!) on the chicken, and it's perfect. Then I drew a warm bath, lit a soothing soy candle and relaxed in the tub for a good 20 minutes before bed. I promptly passed right out.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">Today I'm pretty sore, but it's a good sore. Looking forward to another productive session tonight! My buddy Kevin will be swinging by to snap a bunch of pics so I can post those on the blog, so keep checking back to read--and see--how I'm coming along!</span></div></div></div></div>Ken Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00370546187044348094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205814407603761297.post-67854826183158997092007-01-23T11:53:00.000-08:002008-12-09T22:47:22.485-08:00Day One: The First Workout<span style="font-size:85%;">So, last night it happened: I had my very first workout session with my trainer, Ronn Burns. Verdict: It rocked!<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizq1X82efHFBep11rdBHpSLKZ9BpxA9bzXUUVCC6NFRFmJQiq8Iif9sIpwWdh-eXdc9Ie9yLZktnlZv4g8garmDn5sYCHG4JEVw-IfzxCboptJDxNYndxCn5gw9ae0zVM4Bn4tSSTQ/s1600-h/TrainLogo.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5023327176114617698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizq1X82efHFBep11rdBHpSLKZ9BpxA9bzXUUVCC6NFRFmJQiq8Iif9sIpwWdh-eXdc9Ie9yLZktnlZv4g8garmDn5sYCHG4JEVw-IfzxCboptJDxNYndxCn5gw9ae0zVM4Bn4tSSTQ/s320/TrainLogo.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">It all started promisingly enough. I arrived at<a href="http://www.trainwesthollywood.com/"> Train West Hollywood</a> a little early, so I was able to change out of my work clothes and into shorts and a T-shirt and still be on time to meet Ronn in the gym. Changing in the locker room was a little odd. There was a guy sitting next to me on the bench changing for his workout, as well, and I felt like I was back in high school gym class again, not wanting to take off my shirt until he'd already left the room. Of course, even then, three other guys--all body-beautiful studs with amazing arms and chests--came sauntering into the locker room, so I pulled my workout shirt over my head pretty quickly and got out of there. LOL! Hopefully one of these days soon, I'll get over that.<br /><br />Then it was in to the gym to meet Ronn, who first took me upstairs into his "private office" (aka the men's room) to get my measurements. I wasn't comfortable taking my shirt off, so I lifted it up instead, and he did my measurements. I have a 40-inch waist! <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">A 40-FRICKIN'-INCH waist!!!</span> Oh, my God! (NOTE: In my defense, I can still fit into a pair of 34-inch jeans, thank you very much!). Here are all my measurements:</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />Waist/belly: 40<br />Chest: 40<br />Bicep: 12 1/4<br />Weight: 169.2<br /><br />After<em> that</em> humiliating experience was over ("Don't look at my belly!"), Ronn took me down to the treadmill and I walked in place for 30 minutes while Ronn went over my new "diet" with me. (Oops, not a diet; it's a "lifestyle change.") It's not too bad, actually. Well, except for my late-night snack/dessert being sugar-free Jell-O. We might have to work on that one! (I'm not much of a Jell-O fan. It's made with horse hooves. Ick!) Otherwise, the new menu consists of stuff like chicken breast (expected), veggies (ditto), fruits (more ditto) and lots of water (duh!). But there are a few nice surprises: I can still eat flour tortillas--the non-fat ones, of course, and brown rice is also allowed. I live for brown rice, so I was happy about that. Snacks consist of either an apple, a balance bar, a baked potato or 3 no-salt rice cakes. OK, so Doritos are out of the question, but I figured that would be the case. LOL!<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">"Don't worry: I'm going to give you back your Asian food eventually," Ronn tells me as we go over the menu. (He knows me so well already.) "And you're also going to have a cheat day, but your cheat day has to be the same day that you drink alcohol on, and you have to make sure it's always the same day. But for these first six days, you really have to stick to this menu."<br /><br />After the treadmill, Ronn takes me upstairs to stretch me out. It's pretty intense. "This is the only part of the workout where you get to lie down and relax," he says. "Enjoy it." Fat chance. There was one stretching exercise that was rather interesting, involving something akin to the, um, "missionary position," (but my fondness for this particular stretch has to do with reasons other than health ones, haha), but who knew my hamstrings were so damned tight, or that, when Ronn stretched them out, I would want to howl out in agony. Still, I make it through the stretching and get a head rush when I stand up.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQkgOyOwBaHCJz0qEuz2E9PHtg9NOCZXPucBJ6LQyL7KYuLaoL4Zx6Y5NFfL1w6lhNsFDCVOivDOE46v0iF_UjLwrfv7rPznrEdKKzOVE9blUIEw5M-1m100mx4mg0vcsrMMzxQq7f/s1600-h/workout.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5023327176114617714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQkgOyOwBaHCJz0qEuz2E9PHtg9NOCZXPucBJ6LQyL7KYuLaoL4Zx6Y5NFfL1w6lhNsFDCVOivDOE46v0iF_UjLwrfv7rPznrEdKKzOVE9blUIEw5M-1m100mx4mg0vcsrMMzxQq7f/s320/workout.gif" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Ronn then tells me to lie down on a mat on the floor and give him 15 stomach crunches. Eeek! Crunches are the worst for me. I have no back strength to speak of, and sitting up from a lying-down position is always a challenge for me. Still, I manage to get through 15 reps, though I do have a lot of trouble giving Ronn just 5 sit-ups. "Ab workouts are my biggest challenge," I tell him, feeling the need to explain myself. "Don't worry," he reassures me. "You'll get there."<br /><br />Then it's back downstairs to work out my upper body. Ronn wants to focus on my arms, chest and back, so he puts me on several machines that serve to strengthen those areas. He starts me at 35 pounds for the first 15 reps, then increases the weight to 50 for the second set. He compliments me on my form at several points ("You're probably the only person I've trained who actually got right into the correct position without me having to tell you how to do it first," he says when I get onto one machine), and then, after putting his hand on my chest while I'm doing a series of reps on said contraption, he adds, "I can tell you already that your chest is going to be the easiest thing to build up. You have a lot of muscle in there already that you don't know about, and it's going to be quick to add muscle mass there. Your arms are going to be your biggest challenge, even more so than your middle section." Interesting: Already I'm feeling a little more confident. (Ronn has a reason to be as well: Several times throughout our session, other trainers and clients jokingly ask him for his autograph. Guess they've all seen the <em><a href="http://frontierspublishing.com">Frontiers</a></em> cover. "Get used to it," I tell him. "You're a star now.")<br /><br />It takes me a little longer to master a variation on a bench press that Ronn shows me in which I have to arch my back by bringing my legs back toward the bench, but after Ronn spots me and then shows me how to do it himself, I finally get it. Each time, Ronn seems enthused. "You're doing great, Ken," he tells me. "It's going well." Good to hear... "In no time we'll have you ripped and plucked and tanned in time for Gay Pride." Ronn must notice my raised eyebrows, since he laughs and says, "I'm kidding, of course." Whew...<br /><br />I'm surprised to find that I'm rather enjoying the workout, and especially having Ronn tell me that I'm doing the reps correctly. He comments on my form at several points, though the more reps I do with more weight added, the less stellar my form becomes. Haha. ("All in good time, my pretties, all in good time...") I'm also surprised that before I know it, Ronn is telling me the workout is over, though he asks if I would stick around for an extra 15 minutes to do some more treadmill work. "Sure," I reply, not quite ready to end the workout. Ronn leaves me with a few Isopure drinks to try out, and I finish up the workout with 15 minutes on the treadmill. Since my adrenaline is going, I up the speed from 2.5 to 3.0, then eventually to 3.5 for the remainder of the walk. Then, just for a nice "sprint to the finish," I increase the speed and finish my walk at 4.0, which is a nice little capper. When I get off the treadmill, though, boy does everything a little weird. As I walk through the gym, it feels like I'm moving on a conveyer belt and everybody is rushing right by me. Weeeird...<br /><br />Then it's off to the locker room to get my stuff after I purchase a pair of workout pants (only $22.50--half off!), and then off to Trader Joe's so I can do some shopping, then finally home so I can make my first healthy dinner. Ronn gave me three options for each meal, so I opt for the chicken breast one, and grill it on my George Foreman. And, oddly enough, it's one of the best chicken breasts I've ever had. I don't know if that's because it's organic and I cooked it really well, or just because the excitement over working out and eating healthy is adding to its flavor. Oh well. I'm not gonna argue. I just savor it and smile as I watch an episode of <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">30 Rock</span> and pat myself on the back for a job well done.<br /><br />Not a bad first day at all, huh? :) </span><br /><p><span style="font-size:85%;">I'm feeling just a wee bit sore this morning. Lifting my arms in the shower was a bit interesting, and there is some tenderness to my abs, but otherwise, I feel good. I ate my healthy little breakfast and lunch, and am looking forward to another great workout tonight. Catch you all tomorrow!</p></span>Ken Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00370546187044348094noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205814407603761297.post-89315704513584446622007-01-22T12:38:00.000-08:002008-12-09T22:47:23.081-08:00Today's the Day!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgho5PDOX-sR2S1eQWah-aRKsrMml55-yWZaZo0ViFfv3auV2BBanOZzb7vHUhD5KrvZm6YHUpPNChhBinslKzzfEXtcHR6_zaYRFCX_t_DHMbnNCTawXKklme9xk6_bpceVEInDPME/s1600-h/IMG_3182.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgho5PDOX-sR2S1eQWah-aRKsrMml55-yWZaZo0ViFfv3auV2BBanOZzb7vHUhD5KrvZm6YHUpPNChhBinslKzzfEXtcHR6_zaYRFCX_t_DHMbnNCTawXKklme9xk6_bpceVEInDPME/s320/IMG_3182.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022969190590496050" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Yup, folks. Today's the day. Tonight I meet up with Ronn at Train West Hollywood and get started on "the rest of my life." I'll be on my way to a porn star bod in no time! LOL! </span> <div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />Luckily, my tummy troubles from last night have subsided--I'm pretty sure it was those damned leftovers that made me get sick. I'm sure nerves had something to do with it, too. I mean, after all, I am about to enter a whole new world for me. A world where men size each other up and scrutinize the size of each other's arms, chests, and whatever else they seem to worship in gyms. Yikes. Thank God I'll have my trainer there to figuratively "hold my hand" and get me through it. Right?</span><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div> </div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">At any rate, thought I'd post a few more "BEFORE" shots of me so that you all have a clearer sense of what I look like now. This way you'll notice the change more as the weeks and months go by. I sure hope that you guys are as excited about this as I am. I'm really hoping that my efforts inspire others to face down their own fears and do something really positive and healthy for themselves.<br /><br /></span></div><div> </div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">This is going to be great!<br /><br /></span></div></div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvAogoD3wCFGhE9VXEcCDkMVxrF9qeDCqcK-Y36kcc6A9GYCKL4Glp-IwmhMKg8Z3GT1l2JFCj2wgFufcKAen1SCMqkwboI7N41Tks9HoyCMd3QOg-osRPhJgmT6wR1ywUQ8P_QH6i/s1600-h/IMG_3192.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvAogoD3wCFGhE9VXEcCDkMVxrF9qeDCqcK-Y36kcc6A9GYCKL4Glp-IwmhMKg8Z3GT1l2JFCj2wgFufcKAen1SCMqkwboI7N41Tks9HoyCMd3QOg-osRPhJgmT6wR1ywUQ8P_QH6i/s320/IMG_3192.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022968773978668306" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZofYhw_NpkRX54LpZbZEkU2aRYqDv34ZShBh-nvuTD3JOylXD34YLX5-cfqam3QkK9pNnZNT1hVNaYaCSmCYT3wTDxOaPec6XoIp5dBHuoH8o4huKPzmgwcNWQwPWg4PIE-RBq385/s1600-h/IMG_3191.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZofYhw_NpkRX54LpZbZEkU2aRYqDv34ZShBh-nvuTD3JOylXD34YLX5-cfqam3QkK9pNnZNT1hVNaYaCSmCYT3wTDxOaPec6XoIp5dBHuoH8o4huKPzmgwcNWQwPWg4PIE-RBq385/s320/IMG_3191.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022969761821146450" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">(Pics by Kevin Cazares)</span></span>Ken Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00370546187044348094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205814407603761297.post-85942955727569118822007-01-21T18:39:00.000-08:002008-12-09T22:47:23.254-08:00The Night Before<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh57epwsrNJkwU9lhuYFg6FHVGVNSvbn0nTeBXPEZvyKgz1m86oeMnf50V1W1a5Pgu6GZCkEmirxHJpcG6xZqlT6j68xjfUoJJMrDvkbK-NVxqrZ9Jdt46qlEIEeveVtUSJCrITdkj3/s1600-h/IMG_3185.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022685542360333442" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh57epwsrNJkwU9lhuYFg6FHVGVNSvbn0nTeBXPEZvyKgz1m86oeMnf50V1W1a5Pgu6GZCkEmirxHJpcG6xZqlT6j68xjfUoJJMrDvkbK-NVxqrZ9Jdt46qlEIEeveVtUSJCrITdkj3/s320/IMG_3185.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">So it's the night before I am to start my new health and fitness regimen, and I'm a little nervous about it. In fact, I can't figure out if the tummy troubles I'm having right now are because of nerves caused by my "gym phobia" or from that leftover chicken and rice dish that my cater-waitor neighbor Art brought up to me. It's all so stressful! :)</span><br /><div><div><div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">Since the whole thing's not starting until tomorrow, my trainer, Ronn Burns, told me that I should enjoy myself while I still could. So I went out and had "one last hurrah" and essentially ate all the foods that I love but won't be eating for at least the next three months. That's right. I enjoyed a hearty plate of pad thai noodles </span><span style="font-size:85%;">from the Thai restaurant down the street, and also feasted on a turkey burger and onion rings from Fatburger after being in the bars last night. And don't even get me started on alcohol. I guess I've just had my last Rum and Coke for a while. I'm sure going to miss those foods. They're comfort foods. Stuff that makes me feel good. Sadly, those foods don't make me look any better, and seriously, there's nothing sexy about being a man who looks like he's got a bun in the oven. I'm not pregnant, OK!? </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">When I decided to pitch this story to <a href="http://frontierspublishing.com"><em>Frontiers</em></a><em> </em>magazine as a six-month health and fitness project, I knew I’d have to find a way to keep myself motivated throughout the entire period. Because I’m the type of person who excels when working with others, I knew that hooking up with a personal trainer would be the best route for me. And when I met Ronn Burns, who’d been referred to <em>Frontiers</em> by a friend, I knew instantly that I’d found the right guy for the job—and not just because his eyes got big upon his first look at me and he said, “I have to tell you that, honestly, I was expecting someone out of shape.” (Damn, he’s good.) Sure, he’s charming and sexy and all that (why do you think <em>Frontiers</em> featured him on the cover of the new issue instead of me?), but he also speaks about fitness in no-nonsense terms that I can grasp, and he instantly understood where I was coming from in terms of my fears and insecurities. So when he started laying out his plan for whipping me into shape, I let him take the lead.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />He asked me all sorts of questions about my diet (mostly chicken, tofu and veggies, but peppered with <em>far</em> too many snacks and deliveries from Asian eateries), my exercise habits (apart from the occasional hike in Runyon Canyon and the aborted attempts at working out at home, virtually none), and my overall goals. I told him that I wanted to drop some weight from my tummy and firm and tone my upper body. "I'm looking for a naturally athletic look," I told him. "I don't want to look like a muscle-head. I just want to have a more defined and toned look." Eventually, he came up with a plan:</span></div><br /><div><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">* Four days of weight resistance training and cardio, with one additional day of just cardio.</span></strong></div><br /><div><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">* Heavy emphasis on abdominals during weight training. </span></strong></div><br /><div><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">* A balanced diet on a time schedule.</span></strong></div><br /><div><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">* A resistance regimen catered to my inexperience.</span></strong></div><div></div><div><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></strong></div><div></div><div><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></strong></div><div></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />Perhaps because he sensed my growing apprehension, Ronn was quick to add, “Ken, I promise you’re going to enjoy working out with me. Right now, you’re, like, ‘Five days a week?’ But you’re going to like it. It’s really important that you not get distracted. You can go in there and pick up a 30-pound weight and feel like a weakling, but nobody in that gym is monitoring what you’re lifting. It’s all in your head.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">“Our biggest fear in life is fear of the unknown,” he continues, his practicality and his gentleness comforting my growing concerns. “Everybody had to drive into the pool for the first time at some point. And once all of that unknown is gone, the gym is a great place to meet people and feel good about yourself.” Consider me convinced. See you at the gym.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></div></div></div></div><br /><strong><span style="font-size:78%;">(Pic by Kevin Cazares)</span></strong>Ken Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00370546187044348094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205814407603761297.post-75847200189845335592007-01-20T18:12:00.000-08:002008-12-09T22:47:23.429-08:00Gym Phobia and Me: The Path to My 'Physical Therapy'<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVs1f6DD56okHEnRs1EsIWr9j7A7bSbN0WSwdbHFVP1sigLUgBPOs35IXHXdxtnXPXR2ttouIRPhoa0tY9U7iJfLt7x-aKOJ94Wv1v-S19ran8kRt1zGD62_202Xbb8n8qm2Ueo7qZ/s1600-h/IMG_3188.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022312374126820370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVs1f6DD56okHEnRs1EsIWr9j7A7bSbN0WSwdbHFVP1sigLUgBPOs35IXHXdxtnXPXR2ttouIRPhoa0tY9U7iJfLt7x-aKOJ94Wv1v-S19ran8kRt1zGD62_202Xbb8n8qm2Ueo7qZ/s320/IMG_3188.JPG" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">Contrary to popular belief, all gay men do not have memberships to their local gym. Even more shocking, many gay men do not work out at all. I know what you’re thinking: <em>Horrifying, isn’t it?</em> With the gay community’s seemingly endless obsession with all things gorgeous and muscular—as reflected in everything from magazine covers to billboard ads for anything from shaving cream to orthopedic wear—one might surmise that we are all hulking hunks of ripped, sinewy mass. But, as hard as it may be to grasp, there is indeed a rather large percentage of us that don’t frequent the local Gold’s. I am one of those guys.<br /><br />I don’t know my way around a Bow-Flex; I don’t keep a lifetime supply of Creatine in my kitchen cabinet; and, truth be told, my idea of a personal trainer is a hot older man who stands over me in a jockstrap while I bench press half my weight and barks, “You want some of this, boy? Then <em>pump</em> that iron!” Now <em>that’s</em> what I call incentive!<br /><br />I’d like to tell you that I have some kind of medical condition that prevents me from lifting too much of anything heavy on a regular basis (alas, not true), or that I’m allergic to the smell of sweat (um, quite the contrary!)—or even that I’m so hot that I don’t need to work out (hey, I’m allowed to dream!), but the truth is actually much simpler. I have gym phobia.<br /><br />As an awkwardly scrawny teenager struggling with my budding sexuality, I was name-called, picked on, and pushed into just about every locker and wall you could find in junior high and high school. And while the other boys were becoming model examples of American masculinity, I was reverting further and further into myself, shutting myself off from contact with my peers and social activities. And gym class was the worst. Getting undressed in front of the other boys was like pure torture, and I feared that I didn’t measure up to their rapidly developing bodies. I froze when it came to sports and athletics (the territory of “the normal boys”), fearing that I would be taunted for my lack of athletic prowess. As a result, I was always picked last for everything from softball to hockey, and the experience of being humiliated over and over again during my fumbled attempts to be like the other boys left me scarred and traumatized.<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYFy_GyOWq5kpacr1E0Db4HveKgaD-9VgqhE03fdUTYha8ORQJnW_vbJrPvbe767QWHfRKsgfxGSO4iVyN4cBLd8SwoWJTGqjmOTZGzuqi7JBO3szo33Uc5MB9l_3upnR0Lr23Kfte/s1600-h/IMG_3191.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYFy_GyOWq5kpacr1E0Db4HveKgaD-9VgqhE03fdUTYha8ORQJnW_vbJrPvbe767QWHfRKsgfxGSO4iVyN4cBLd8SwoWJTGqjmOTZGzuqi7JBO3szo33Uc5MB9l_3upnR0Lr23Kfte/s1600-h/IMG_3191.JPG"></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Now that I’m a grown man who’s been out as gay for nearly two decades, you’d think I’d have dealt with these issues along the way, and to a point, I had. That is, until I moved to Los Angeles, where I suddenly found myself drowning in the middle of a sea of perfect-bodied gay men whose penchant (or, rather, their obsession) for staying fit—and their insistence that anyone who might want to “get to know them better” be in comparable shape—sent me right back to square one in terms of my self-esteem. Looking in the mirror after a shower became a depressing experience, while taking my clothes off in front of anyone became an exercise in complete and utter humiliation. When I look in the mirror, I’m not happy with what I see. When I’m in bed with a guy and he reaches down to squeeze my bicep, I jerk away. It’s just not cool.<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh61pVF8J-LCzvx0zGa-4Ykyl0NhObK0DWa4SROwbN9hH3AfTohlk5RTkYMdw3LV7nIgDYfhVPs0coS19pSoq1wtXw7VZN3XdxG4pCNfAIaMN5ZPncMvu04xiSCtpM59lYh8ZeTnXxH/s1600-h/IMG_3191.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh61pVF8J-LCzvx0zGa-4Ykyl0NhObK0DWa4SROwbN9hH3AfTohlk5RTkYMdw3LV7nIgDYfhVPs0coS19pSoq1wtXw7VZN3XdxG4pCNfAIaMN5ZPncMvu04xiSCtpM59lYh8ZeTnXxH/s1600-h/IMG_3191.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh61pVF8J-LCzvx0zGa-4Ykyl0NhObK0DWa4SROwbN9hH3AfTohlk5RTkYMdw3LV7nIgDYfhVPs0coS19pSoq1wtXw7VZN3XdxG4pCNfAIaMN5ZPncMvu04xiSCtpM59lYh8ZeTnXxH/s1600-h/IMG_3191.JPG"></a><span style="font-size:85%;">People tell me that I’m imagining things. They say, “Ken, you’re not in that bad of shape.” And I suppose it’s true. I’m not 300 pounds overweight, and I have what some might refer to as an “average” body. But in this town, if you don’t have a big chest, arms and a six-pack stomach, you’re out of shape. I feel like I’m invisible, and it’s not a good feeling. I frequently get passed over for bigger, more muscular men—men who evidently fulfill this community’s frustratingly prevalent penchant for shallowness and body fascism. It must be said: Gay men are some of the most cruel and heartless that there are when it comes to seeking out sexual gratification. One only needs to visit a sex club or spend a little amount of time on a hookup site like </span><a href="http://manhunt.net"><span style="font-size:85%;">Manhunt</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> (where profiles frequently read: “Looking for muscular/fit men only. I take care of my body; so should you”) to see this in action. Put a bunch of so-called “VGL” muscle jocks together in a gym, where they have free reign to obsess over their own bodies and ogle those of others, and it becomes a “hot only zone” where anyone who doesn’t look like them simply doesn’t belong.<br /><br />So what’s an insecure guy like me supposed to do? Well, for the past 36 years, not much of anything. I’ve stayed out of the gym for fear of not measuring up to the other guys. I’ve avoided taking my shirt off at pool parties and beaches. I’ve had sex in places where all the clothes can’t come off so I can avoid being seen naked. But all that is about to change. Because I, Ken Knox, self-professed “wimp” and hater of all things athletic, has gone and done “the L.A. thing” and gotten myself a personal trainer who’s going to whip my lazy ass into shape.<br /><br />Why has it taken me so damned long, you ask? Well, apart from the reasons stated above, I just didn’t want to buy into the community’s obsession with beauty and muscles. I don’t think the only hot guys are the ones who look like they stepped out of an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog, and I don’t want to become the kind of person who does. If I work out, aren’t I then compromising my integrity and “selling out” so that I, too, can be just like all the pretty people?<br /><br />Perhaps. I would, of course, be lying if I said part of the reason why I’m doing this wasn’t because my already fragile ego could use a bit of a confidence boost. It would be nice to occasionally be found desirable by the men I find attractive. But I can honestly say that the bigger truth at play here is the fact that I simply <em>want</em> to be in better shape—<em>not</em> so that I can get laid or feel "hot," but simply so that I can feel more energetic, look healthier and feel like I’ve done something truly special for myself. In other words, this is not for anyone else but myself.<br /><br />I know that I owe it to myself to change the things about myself that I don’t like. After all, when it comes right down to it, I am my own worst enemy, and there’s really no one out there telling me that I can’t achieve something except myself. I spent so many years of my life telling myself that what those kids in high school said about me wasn’t true, but now it seems that, by giving in to the sickening little voice in my head that tells me I’m not good enough, I’m really just letting those kids win after all. And that is not something I’m about to do.<br /><br />I’m not sure how any of this will change me. People tell me that I’ll act differently, that I’ll become just another hot guy in Los Angeles who only sleeps with men who look just like him. Doubtful. I know myself pretty well at this point, and I think I can safely say that I won’t become the kind of guy who rips his shirt off the moment he walks into a club so everyone can gawk at the results of his gym regimen. And I certainly hope that I don’t turn into one of those narcissistic gym bunnies who stands around in bars bragging about how much he can bench press. But it will be interesting nonetheless to see where all of this takes me.<br /><br />And so I’m inviting you all along on my journey. I’m about to embark on one of the scariest adventures of my life. I’m going to journey into the kingdom of Gymdom and face down the proverbial dragons of my youth. Will I slay them and walk away the winner? Only time will tell. But I have a feeling that at the end of the next six months, I will walk away from this experience a much better, more confident person.<br /><br />In other words, Yay me!<br /><br /></span><div><span style="font-size:78%;"><strong>(Pics by Kevin Cazares)</strong></span> </div>Ken Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00370546187044348094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205814407603761297.post-73264515536095275252007-01-18T04:19:00.000-08:002008-12-09T22:47:23.750-08:00Welcome to 'KenGetsFit'!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx_OM5hYhOxvEvZRGxa3GNDisDr9R9SFPO07GlS8k-MRDXvfP3Ts2KVEifxi8ysb20FDGOtCIy3VDHz-XoijHBkXCHOQ_ipBdtVetWcIIb06SYoMaC_VVbJjGsEhJvgyW7SKZkAQjq/s1600-h/AtDesk.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021348854048537602" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx_OM5hYhOxvEvZRGxa3GNDisDr9R9SFPO07GlS8k-MRDXvfP3Ts2KVEifxi8ysb20FDGOtCIy3VDHz-XoijHBkXCHOQ_ipBdtVetWcIIb06SYoMaC_VVbJjGsEhJvgyW7SKZkAQjq/s320/AtDesk.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Howdy, folks! Thanx for checking out my "physical therapy" blog. This is where I'll be keeping a regular record of my progress working out with personal trainer Ronn Burns, who's about to kick my ass for six months straight at Train West Hollywood, a private gym in good ol' WeHo.<br /><br />This life change has been a long time coming for me. It's something I've been meaning to do for quite a while, but my own silly insecurities and issues from my high school days kept getting in the way of me taking control of my life--and my body--and doing something good and healthy for myself. But with the new year came a revitalized vision of the life that I want for myself, so I've decided that there is no time like the present to build that life for myself. Yay me!<br /><br />The project will begin on Monday, January 22, when I'll have my first session with Ronn. Considering the shape I'm in right now, that should be a pretty interesting experience--not to mention a pretty interesting blog post. Posts will be made several times a week (or as often as possible, whichever comes first), and some will even include pictures! (Come on; you know you want to see me sweat.)<br /><br />In the next day or so, I'll be posting a more explanatory entry to get you all caught up with my way of thinking and where I'm coming from as I set off on this new and exciting journey in my overall health and confidence.<br /><br />I hope you will follow me in this journey. It will be great to have you come along and learn and grow with me.<br /><br />All the best,<br />Ken</span>Ken Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00370546187044348094noreply@blogger.com2