Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Eat Lightning and Crap Thunder
a) i have an ace job
b) i can go back to the gym today :)
c) the british breackcore, jungle, dubstep and gabber scene reclaimed me back to her firm bussom this weekend!! it was a year long break-up but now we understand each other even more, and i appreciate her and won't be taking her for granted either...now we can give each other more space, do and enjoy other things too. a more open relationship, if you like. i'm going to treat her and me more gently, so she keeps coming back and doesnt leave me in a crumpled heap on a sunday evening.
so there we were, me and dave - the gruesome twosome - 'aving it! we went to fangtabulous on the friday night which was a benefit for transfabulous. the trans arts festival thing here in the uk. oddly enough, i've never actually made it, seeing as in 2006 i was competing in my last powerlifting competition and was completly fucked (in more ways than one) after it. and in 2007 i was still in sydney.
i miss sydney quite a bit actually. i miss my platonic harem, arrow the pussycat and of course gordon's bay, not to mention the surfing. i think a return trip is definelty on the cards although probabaly not till 2009 seeing as 2008 will be south america in a big way, then im gonna stay in london again and hopefully keep doing contracting for 5 years or so and earning cash-money so i can eventually save up and buy land for a dog sanctuary. and my non-profit gym. hopefully seth will still be alive to be the mascot of my sanctuary...
anyway, back to transfabulous, someone asked dave if he was trans (cos he has small hands) which he thought was hilarious. and said "no".
dave is the lowest maintenance person i know, and i visualise him as a few small round spiky cactus grub-balls, surviving in the meagrest conditions. barely needing watering or much at all!
so we ended up leaving the sweaty queer party and heading off to yardvibe, where we were just in time for bong-ra to play. i fell asleep in the taxi there and the bouncer on the door was being a total knob.
"alright lads, you been out on the piss..?! getting tanked up all night have ya? it's three in the morning, i shouldn't let you'se in. enjoy your sleep did ya?"etc etc. dave was like "but the doors say it's open till 6am!" i thought we weren't gonna get in and then suddenly i got a good groping, i mean a pat down, and then shown inside. once in, we were in for a right treat. the music was so loud our windpipes were vibrating in our mouths, the tunes were completly banging and it was full of crazy british munters. i say this once and i say it again. the british music scene completly craps over so many other places in the world, especially for alternative dance music.
i'm in charge of the london bus priority network in 2 borough's in london - greenwhich and lewisham. and for once my job is actually interesting me enough for me to wake up, limit myself to 15 mins of xtube and jump out of bed at 7am and iron my shirt. or maybe it's because i can jump out and be wandering around with my tits out and it's all ok...and i don't have to squeeze into my compression shirt everyday.
and i'm getting kind of nerdy and thinking how really, what i'd rather do is go riding around on the buses in my area over the weekend and do a personal study, rather than be down the pub. i love london buses!
ken livingstone's vision for london regarding keeping transport moving is the most progressive policy i've read. i'm sat at my desk and when i get all lazy and think about jerking off at work i clip myself round the ear because i'm finally in a position to make a difference in the world, and make changes that will have a big impact on the environment (reducing use of the private car and hence pollution). i couldn't give two fucks about whether someone jumps the train/bus/tube i mean i was doing that last summer because we (the royal "we" plus pike) couldn't afford it. in reality public tranpsort should be free, and if i had my way there would be no congestion charging zone, instead there'd be a complete ban of private cars in zones 1 & 2. maybe you'll see that by 2025 (the 20 year plan), otherwise maybe i'll be wearing a blue kagool and stood at your local shelter doing bus spotting on the weekend.
i'm waiting for francis to show up through the door so we can go down to his gym where i have a week free trial - shitness first, unfortunatley. but i have heard that there's some massive guys down there, so i'm hopeful. the dumbells need to go upto at least 120lb'ers cos i was benching the 90's in sydney with ease for 10 deep reps. and they need a powercage or squat rack, aswell as a deadlift policy - of it being ok. some gyms will not let you deadlift as it's loud, it's nasty and it's supposedly what real men do. this past week i've realised i ain't a boy anymore. i'm definelty a lad /a guy, and i've been introduced at work as the "new young man come to sort us out". i'm not sure about the latter, but it did make me bring some homework back last night as in the next week or so i'm going to be drowning in work.
now i love deadlifting, but my back is feeling a bit weak seeing as i haven't done it for 2 nearly months. so tonight i'm going to do the following workout:
chest:
5x5 light incline bench dumbell press
5x5 light narrow grip barbell bench press
2 sets of dips - just bodyweight if i can manage it
legs:
very light squats.
3 sets of 5
very light deadlifts
3 sets of 5
calves
3 sets of 20
arms n' shoulders:
dumbell lat flyes
3 sets of 10 dumbell curls
3 sets of 10 tricep pushdowns
back:
2 sets of 10 lat pulldowns
2 sets of seated row
abs:
3 sets of 25 crunches
me bro has just walked through the door so we're off!
as dave would say
ta da for now
x
Sunday, September 30, 2007
4 Days Post Op
Also heard about the trouble in
I’m feeling restless and ready to get back into the swing of things. My drains come out on Monday or Tuesday, hopefully the former as I’m feeling pretty uncomfortable with the pipes sticking out/pulling on my sides given that my chest doesn’t hurt and I can move my arms freely without pain. I took most of the padding off last night except the nipple tape, to take a look - so far so good! Otherwise my hair is too long and I can’t wait for a shave and a shower.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
The beginning of the rest of my life
Today I had chest surgery with Dr Fischer (
I have had several panics and a few restless nights in the 9 weeks leading up to the surgery from when I booked it. My head filled with all sorts of thoughts, even such extremes as to whether I was really trans or not…However, the sheer calmness and happiness I experienced yesterday in the consultation and today as I went in for it, and during this afternoon, post-op, I never realised how happy this would make me.
I’m sat here like one happy puppy, Nurse Miles has been really looking after me – draining me, doing the laundry, making me a cuppa, and most importantly watering and feeding me! The pain on my chest is minimal, equivalent to a hefty chest workout (dips for example) and I’m pleased to say I can actually move my arms around and get my shirt on etc. I guess two years of putting on the Inzer Bench shirt for powerlifting has set the standard for discomfort…or even 12 months of wearing a medium sized Underworks compression shirt.
Dr Fischer phoned me in the afternoon to see how I was doing, and she was surprised I was awake and chirpy, and had already managed to eat food. (takes more than chopping me tits off to lose my appetite! ha ha). She said everything had gone really well and that she thought I was really going to like my results as I "have good skin tone and flattened out well". I can’t wait to see how it looks, see what work needs to be done by me down the gym once I’m allowed back there (6 weeks).
When I was a kid I always used to draw naked men’s muscular torsos. Just pages and pages of them, huge pecs with perfectly placed tiny nipples. I used to make up stories in my head about each one, all with the similar theme of being a boy and going away (to the navy or the army?!) and coming back a man. I only made the connection to myself in the past 12 months when I started transitioning at the Tom Waddell centre in SF in October 2006. I wonder what I’ll be drawing now…I have always loved looking at all sorts of male bodies, and have been hopeless with drawing female bodies. Unless they were female bodybuilders! Pike's actually the first woman I was ever able to draw. I think in London I'm gonna try do some more live drawing, and hope they're female - and not just for general perve!
Today I have felt really cared for by my friends who are my family in so many ways. I’m so optimistic about the future, about nothing being able to stop me achieve whatever I set my mind on. I’m gonna be surfing in Peru in a few months, running on the beach in my speedos, dancing salsa in the latino bars and making new friends and trying new things. Obviously still training too, but there’s so much stuff I haven’t done yet, I feel my life has been put on hold for too long and all the issues I used to train through, drink my way out of or get high to forget for the weekend - I’ve dealt with them! Sure the road is never easy, but I’m out of the most difficult part now.
Francis, Pike and I have been making a little documentary about this journey. I for one, would love to have seen someone going through the process before doing it myself. It's definetly made the experience a bit more of a laugh instead of a white knuckle ride! We’ll probably put it up on youtube once it’s edited. Plus there have been some comical moments which Francis has taken in his stride. It’s tough being at the beginning of transition. I am going to help him out as best as I can by getting him down the gym in Brixton and bulking him up a bit. I already taught him how to deadlift this January, so I know he's got it in him. He will be my first Project V.
We’ve been watching Rocky 2 tonight, which makes anyone want to go train!
Friday, September 21, 2007
Genesis
In April I’ll have been training for exactly half my life.
I’m proud of where I’m at. Everything I am, I deserve. I have spent years in the gym sculpting the man I’m becoming. Not bad considering I was born female. It’s a different type of personal and painful artwork.
In a way it was a blessing to have been born female as I have never been able to solely rely on brute strength and ignorance. Its technique, perseverance and discipline. If anything I’ve trained harder than any guy in my crew yet had less to show in comparison. But life isn’t fair and I’m not going to complain about that… I’d still do it even if there were no titles to win, records to break or shirts to grow out of.
The iron keeps me sane. She’s been there for me since I was 15 and she’ll be there when I’m 75+. “Stop thinking and talking about pussy and lift…Women come and go, but powerlifting is here to stay!” B’s words (to one of my crew) echo in my mind and make me smile. Every new chapter in my life just fuels me to lift harder, lift smarter, train with more intensity and tighten up the regime. Physical strength is my gift and I’d be stupid to not use it.
S&M, transcendental meditation, anger management and masturbation all rolled into one. The gym is the place I run to when I feel like I’m about to lose it. Lately I seem to be spending more and more time there! I know I’m doing my time. These are the sessions where I can’t talk to anyone. I won’t feel the weight at all, and all I want is to lift until my body hurts and the pain overrides the shit that I deal with on a regular basis, shit I’m probably going to be dealing with for the rest of my life. I need to feel the constant ache of recovery in my body, something else to focus on. The butter on the cat’s paws.
But this isn’t a sob story.
My body never screams at me to stop, if anything it just lets me take it further. I have to restrain myself on a regular basis, I don’t want my tendons to rupture because of the ego in lifting heavy. I want to still be doing this when I’m an old codger.
Gayboys watch as I keep increasing what I’m lifting. If only they knew that to do this, there was a hefty mental price to pay. Still, they come over and smile at me and shake my hard calloused hand. I don’t say much, I don’t like talking too much in the gym.
There’s this one guy at my gym who calls me “bro” and spots me. We both keep our headphones on as we help each other out and I don’t even know his name. He’s a good guy though; I know he broke up with his missus of 12 years two years ago. He’s fucking massive and I wonder if that’s what it takes to be in physical peak. I know I’m nearer to my peak than I was last year. But I’m a perfectionist and I have a long way to go yet. However, nowadays I look in the mirror and the days I can see clearly, I like what I see. A whole lot more than I did when I hit my first puberty. The iron game is one of the few sports where you peak at an older age - 38 to 40 years old from general experience. So I have 10 years left to go…I might just get there in time.
I can feel the music pounding in my ears, my blood pumping through my heart, my breath bursts out of my lungs and my spine tingling with adrenaline; I’m semi-aroused, sweat drips out of every pore and I can smell my own testosterone. My muscles are working – and I’m alive! I feel like a machine, an animal, in control of myself and my mind... I feel like I’m flying and for a split second I probably am. As everything I needed to do, and everything I came here for, is suddenly resolved.
Broadway Gym Mar 2007-Sep 2007 (
YMCA Sep 2006 – Feb 2007 (San Francisco)
Bodies Gym 2003 -2006 (
Gangsters Gym 2003 (
Adam’s Gym 2000 – 2003 (
Record Gym 1994 -1996 (overlap/ hometown gym in holidays) (
Fitness Factory 1993-1995 (
Bedroom! 1992-1996 (
Associacion de Tae-kwon-do 1986 - 1992 (