Mark Tullius's Blog, page 18

How Ridiculous Am I? Why I Take My Children to the Chiropractor

Dr. Gunn with 5-day-old Jake

I’m pretty open about who I am. In my bio, I mention being a father, fighter, brother, son. On my blog I’ve talked about being a husband, a homophobe, a metalhead. But it looks like I forgot something. I left off ridiculous. According to John Reggars, a chiropractor in Australia who was recently interviewed on a television program, letting your child receive chiropractic care is ridiculous. I imagine he’d want me tried with criminal neglect for taking my newborn to the chiropractor.

Was I ridiculous for having my daughter adjusted for the past five years? Am I endangering my son who’s too young to complain? I would hate myself if I’d made the wrong decision and caused harm to either of them. These children count on me to protect them, help them grow. Have I failed them?

Although I had already been under constant chiropractic care for 20 years when my daughter, Olivia, was born, I was uncertain about having her adjusted.  Dr. Holland  was pretty much the only doctor I had seen  for all those years and considered him a mentor, one of the best people I know. Except for a torn Achilles tendon, he’d been the one that’s dealt with every injury I’ve had, and there had been a ton of them.

But did I trust him to adjust my little girl, this precious little creature who spent an entire week in the NICU? My hesitation was based on fear and misunderstanding. At that point, my brother, Steve Tullius DC, had yet to show me what chiropractic truly was as he was still learning. But I knew how much I trusted him. Steve recommended we do it as the birthing process is a very traumatic experience and can cause neurological stress that goes undetected the majority of the time. Why not make sure they are at optimal health from the very first moment.

Dr. Holland with 6-week-old Olivia

It took us nearly six weeks before we took Olivia in, her upset stomach and week-plus long constipation the deciding factor. Before I handed Olivia over to Dr. Holland, I told him that I trusted him more than anyone and this was still a difficult thing to do. He assured me she’d be fine and demonstrated just how gentle the adjustment would be. Instead of a Chuck Norris like neck crank, Dr. Holland applied light pressure to different areas, especially Olivia’s low back where we had felt so much tension and inflammation.

At the end of the short session, Olivia was completely relaxed. Before we made it home, she blew out her diaper. After a couple of adjustments it practically got to the point where she’d poop when we said his name.

Based on Olivia’s reaction to the care and my gaining a deeper understanding of what chiropractic is, we have had her checked regularly over the last five years. Olivia understands how regular appointments are important. She has felt the relief from headaches, allergies, aches and pains. She’s learning to listen to and care for her body. I’m certain it’s one of the reasons why she’s stayed healthy.

When Jake was born, there was no question about taking him in. I’d planned on having Dr. Holland adjust him but he was out that day. Dr. Gunn was in, but I had only been adjusted by him one other time. The old fear came back, especially because Jake was only five days old, but I called my sister, whose children see Dr. Gunn regularly. Mary said she trusted Dr. Gunn and all the kids loved him. That was good enough for me.

Dr. Gunn was great with both Jake and Olivia. He’s a father and talented chiropractor that appreciated the trust we were showing in him. When I put up photos of the trip on Facebook, there were worried comments questioning such a practice. I’d forgotten just how misunderstood the field is, thanks to the mainstream medical community that wants your money to treat your symptoms and doesn’t believe you can prevent those symptoms from happening in the first place by keeping your nervous system running at an optimal level. If that isn’t bad enough, you have people like Dr. Reggars.

In Jake’s twelve weeks, he’s been  adjusted six times, several of these because he had not pooped in over a week. My wife took him to the MD, just like we had with Olivia, so they could once again recommend absolutely nothing. They didn’t bother checking his inflamed low back to see that’s what was contributing to the blockage. But Dr. Gunn and Holland do and after every trip to their office, Jake fills his diaper. Not quite the placebo effect the medical community tries to attribute any chiropractic success on.

But I totally get Dr. Reggars and agree with him in part. Adjusting children is ridiculous: For him and any other chiropractor that shares his limited understanding. I wouldn’t let him anywhere near my child or me for that matter. He has an incredibly limited view of chiropractic and considers himself a spinal specialist. It’s similar to someone calling themselves a mechanic but only knowing how to change brakes.

So instead of listening to blowhards and people with their own agenda, do exactly what the program criticizes and listen to parents and their stories. Do your research and find a good chiropractor, check them out before starting  care. Then see how your child responds. I take my children to a chiropractor because it improves  their quality of life. Maybe I’m fine running at 80% of my potential, but I’m not cool with that for my children. I’ve sworn to protect my children and help them succeed.

If you’re on the fence or want a better understanding of what chiropractic is and why it can be beneficial for children, I recommend you check out the ICPA site. Here’s a good article and my brother’s site which also explains why you should consider it.

Check out this video that explains subluxation and why newborns should get checked.

A Little Time with Tyler

My younger brother, Steve, and his soon to be 6-year-old, Tyler, were recently in town for my cousin’s wedding. As always, Steve and I had an incredible time catching up and having a late night brainstorming session. We talked about all he has going on and what he’s doing to spread the word on what chiropractic really is.

He actually had something planned the next day at Southern CA Univ. of Health Sciences (formerly LACC). He asked if I’d mind watching Ty even though Livvie would be at school and I’d be the one doing the entertaining. I said of course not. Whether it’s the shared birthday or maturity level, Ty and I get along great, we’d have fun.

Right before Steve left for his speech, I told him I could drop Ty off at the school. He appreciated it as he was in a hurry to get back to San Diego and I’d save him an hour.

Instead of throwing on Xbox for Ty so I could squeeze in a half hour of work, I asked him if he wanted to see where his dad went to school. His eyes lit up so we gathered our stuff.

In the car we talked a little about school. I asked him how he liked the other kids.

He got quiet. “Uncle Mark.” He waited until I was looking at him in the rearview. “I’m different from other kids.”

He sounded like he could use a hug. The odds of this being a good different weren’t very likely but I stayed upbeat. “Oh yeah, how’s that?”

“You can’t tell anyone.” Dead serious, not at all like a little kid, he made me promise. I had to say it out loud.

I was relieved when he spilled his secret, which I will never reveal.  “That’s not different. Nice try, buddy. I did that when I was your age. A lot of kids do. You’re cool.”

He let that set in a bit. “But I am different.”

I thought I’d be okay with this next revelation. It was turning into a game. “Because you smell funny?”

He said no with a small smile then went back to being serious. And this time he didn’t make me promise. “I know what animals think.”

“Now that’s pretty awesome. All animals?”

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

I went with it, found out what my dog really thinks of me. And my two cats who really don’t like how they’ve been treated since the baby. I snuck in some talk about being different, how that’s awesome no matter what because who wants everyone the same. I sure don’t.

We got to the school in a great mood and I showed him around the campus, asked him if he knew what his dad did.

“He’s a chiropractor.”

“Do you think that’s pretty cool?”

He nodded and said it was, even told me how his dad helps people.

And then a squirrel ran by. Ty crept up to it, just a few feet between them. I asked what the squirrel was thinking.

Like I should have known, he said, “This one doesn’t do it.”

The thoughtless squirrel took off up the tree. We snapped this photo and went on our way.

“Did you know that your dad does way more than just help the people he adjusts?”

Ty looked up for an explanation.

“Do you know what he’s doing today?”

“Talking.”

“He’s teaching. He’s teaching others how chiropractic can help kids. He’s helping them see how important and powerful the profession can be. I think that’s pretty awesome.” Without overdoing it, I threw in, “Your dad’s really smart and has taught me a lot of things.” I might have said, “But I can still beat him up though.”

“I’m hungry.”

I was too but we were half an hour early, no time to get food and make it back for the last few minutes of the talk. Since we were already at the room where it was being held, I asked, “You want to see your dad do his speech?”

He got excited. Like a 5-year-old with a ton of energy who hasn’t eaten recently.

I told him we’d have to be really quiet. “You think you can act like the other students in there.”

Ty said he could do it. I made him promise. We gave it a shot.

We took our seat toward the back, Ty grabbing his own chair instead of my lap. He kept his eyes on Steve and wasn’t fidgeting. I was surprised at how closely he was paying attention.

No longer worried about Ty, I sat back and enjoyed Steve’s lecture. I was impressed with how well he communicates his message and I had no problem following along. I kept glancing at Ty who continued to sit quietly, the longest I’d seen him do without a TV on. I couldn’t help but wonder how he viewed his dad, if he saw him as I did.

After patiently sitting there until the end of the talk, I took Ty up to the front where he jumped into his dad’s arms and gave him a huge hug. There was no mistaking the pride in his voice when Ty told him, “I love you.”

Massage: Another Form of Medicine

I’m a big believer in alternative medicine and regularly receive chiropractic and acupuncture treatments. This, combined with a relatively healthy diet, has kept me out of the MD’s office and it’s been a long time since I’ve been sick. Even though I saw the value in these two forms of therapy, I’d never considered massage as anything other than pleasure unless it was part of rehab, and painful as hell like my experience at Body by Jose. The kinds of massage that my wife would get twice a year seemed like they were just a chance to relax and unwind, and like a typical guy, I didn’t understand how beneficial even that could be.

As a small thank you for the miserable pregnancy, I thought it’d be nice to get Jen a massage. I’d just seen a message from a therapist on Facebook that offered in-home visits, had great prices, and from all the posts I’d seen of hers, it was pretty obvious she was a good person, one of the most important qualities when it comes to working with anyone. I scheduled the appointment for Jen, Olivia, my 8-year-old niece, Bailey, and Jake, my newborn. I mentioned that if there was enough time, maybe I’d go too, but I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to waste the money on myself, even with my back acting up.

That Saturday, Michelle began with my wife. When Jen came upstairs an hour and a half later, she looked like a different person, a giant smile, her skin glowing, her presence so relaxed, nothing like the lawyer she has to be during the week.

The girls were excited to go next, but very timid. I went down with them and watched Michelle put them at ease, finding their comfort levels and staying away from tickle spots. When Olivia finished, she ran upstairs and told Jen that she wanted to do at least 100 more. Her only complaint was that it wasn’t long enough.

13-day-old Jake was next. Michelle explained everything she was doing and demonstrated how we could do it ourselves. It was great to see how relaxed Jake became and to see how much we could help him, especially with his digestive problems.

Fortunately the kids didn’t take too long and there was time for me. My low back had worsened and my neck was incredibly stiff. Michelle was able to go as hard as I liked and cut through all my built up tension remarkably easy, without excessive force.

Although it was meant to be a one-time deal, that hasn’t been the case. Livvie isn’t up to 100 massages, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get her a punch card. Michelle has been over several times to help with my different injuries and ease Jen back from pregnancy and the stress of running her own firm. And I can’t forget Livvie’s sore muscles from all the punching and kicking, gymnastics and jumping on my back.

During the different visits, when I’m not asleep on the table, Michelle and I have talked about all the benefits, how it can help heal all our systems. I checked out some cool articles on massage, including this one from the Huffington Post which discusses how massage can help manage anxiety and depression, ease pain, improve sleep, and boost immunity. I’d definitely underestimated it.

And even though I’m sure all forms of massage are beneficial, I have a feeling that all of us (including my mom, both in-laws, a sister-in-law, and a close friend) have had a great experience with Michelle because of another element she brings with her. In addition to being a licensed massage therapist, Michelle is also a Reiki practitioner. Even though I’m a skeptic when it comes to anything metaphysical, I can’t deny that whatever she’s doing is working. Perhaps all of us would have the same strong reaction to any therapist but I’m not so sure.

Instead of trying to explain something I don’t understand, I thought it’d make sense for Michelle to describe it. You’ll be able to check that post out soon.

MMA Fighter and Actor Discusses Male Eating Disorder

One of the things I absolutely love about Unlocking the Cage is that I never know who I’m going to talk to or what they’re about. I rarely set up interviews ahead of time and prefer to go to the gyms and see who’s up for letting me pick their brain a bit and see what makes them tick. Today I left Jackson’s-Winkeljohn’s, arguably the best MMA gym in the country, feeling pretty awesome but it wasn’t because I had interviewed a champion. I talked with three very cool men, but the one who inspired me the most and has me working on this blog at two in the morning when I should be asleep is Tommy Truex.

I discovered a lot about Tommy in the hour we talked and I really appreciated his honesty and openness. We had a great talk about a troubled childhood, time served in Iraq, what can be done to help those with PTSD, and male eating disorders. That last one almost slipped by me, but Tommy mentioned it after we wrapped up the first interview. He told me it was something he was passionate about so I threw the camera back on and asked him why he cared about something like that.

Tommy with Coach Mike Winkeljohn

Tommy has a personal interest in eating disorders because he’s been dealing with his since he was 11. Dealing with it in silence for most of his life because it’s not something that’s talked about. But Tommy wants to change that, he wants to bring whatever attention he can to it. He wants to make a difference and prevent suffering, to encourage people, whether boys or girls, men or women, to get help, to talk to someone.

I’m always up for trying to help people, but this subject hit close to home because my older sister, Mary, has struggled with it since she was a teenager. I’ve seen just how devastating it can be to one’s body and mind. I had heard once or twice about male eating disorders but never thought much of it, figured it wasn’t a big deal. I did a little research tonight and realized how wrong I was.

Nearly one million males in the United States suffer from eating disorders and this article states that in LA, boys are just as likely as girls to have the disorder. And here’s a recent Huffington Post article on the subject

If you know of anyone who is dealing with an eating disorder please watch this video and share it with them. A lot of people, especially young males, look up to fighters and might listen to what Tommy has to say.

 

 

 

Catching Up With The Psycho

I wasn’t expecting much when I walked into Memphis Judo and Jiu-Jitsu last July. They didn’t have MMA as part of their name, all I saw was a women’s kickboxing class, and it was a Sunday afternoon. No one was going to be training on a Sunday.

The guys walked me past the class and into the back of the gym where the real work was done, a giant warehouse several times the size of the front. Brian “The Law” Hall and Chase Mann were finishing up wrestling practice on the enormous mat, while heavyweight Jacob “The Psycho” Noe was shadowboxing, hitting the bag, flipping the tire, pushing himself with no one around.

After Jacob finished, we talked for a bit about being an athlete, how a car accident ended his football dream. His eyes lit up when talking about his daughters and fiancée. I took note when he mentioned Rampage and some other guys leaving the area to pursue their dream out West, what a scary thought that had been at the time. I wondered if he’d do the same.

Over the past year, I’ve enjoyed following Jacob’s career.  I went to his Bellator fight this January and watched the others on Spike TV, Jacob going 3-1 in the organization. I wasn’t that surprised when I saw he was doing camp in Vegas, and thought it was pretty awesome that it was with John Wood, my old friend and training partner, who is the head coach and owner of Syndicate MMA. I’d already planned a trip to Syndicate and hoped I’d have a chance to catch up with Jacob.

When I got to Syndicate, Jacob was finishing up no gi bjj class. There was no time to talk though because pro training was about to begin. Later that night it was strength conditioning and another class. During the week, I spent at least twenty hours in that place and Jacob was there every minute of it, training his ass off. I got the impression he’s not about to waste any time. He’s away from his family. He’s at camp for one purpose.

During the next few days, I gave him a few nice breaks by being his practice dummy for a few rounds of rolling and light sparring. He was throwing about 60% at me, hard enough for me to know I didn’t want to be hit by him.

Before I returned to LA, Jacob and I talked about the camp at Syndicate, why he did it, how difficult it was to leave, and how it’s working out. It comes down to some of the things he said in that first video. He was born a fighter, it’s what he is, what he’ll always be. He’s doing whatever he needs to do in order to be successful.

Jacob has a huge fight in front of him this Wednesday with King Mo on Bellator 97. There’s been a lot of talk going on about this one, but I don’t care about any of that, I just want to see them fight. I’m in Albuquerque for the week and am very excited that I’ll be attending. Be sure to check it out on Spike TV.

Click here for the first interview.

 

25 ‘Perfect’ Pictures

The past year has been pretty amazing. I’ve interviewed hundreds of fighters and made new friends with people across the country. One of the closest friendships I’ve developed is with Karl Dominey, a heavily-accented New Zealander who just happened to pick up the phone when I called Brown University’s Sociology Department and mentioned the MMA project I had planned. Turned out Karl was a huge fight fan and martial arts practitioner that I had tons in common with. Here’s his story.

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I am a photographer. It has taken me years to be able to say that. I used to sit in my classes in the Rhode Island School of Design Continuing Education program listening to my fellow students say it all the time. I would look at their work and be generally unimpressed, sometimes really unimpressed, but their confidence was unshakable. I was at least as good as them, better than many, but I just couldn’t take myself seriously. I didn’t want to be another so called ‘artist’ adding to the world’s dross. If it wasn’t ‘perfect’ it wasn’t good enough and it was never perfect. People told me my stuff was good. Then really good. Then people started paying me to take photographs – wasn’t this what I always wanted – but it only made me doubt myself more: Should I really take money for this? They can’t be right, what do they know about photography? They are just being kind. But the work kept coming. People were very happy with it. They were very happy to pay me – as hard as I tried to undersell myself. For 5 years this was slowly building and for 5 years I refused to call myself ‘a photographer.’ Until  a year ago when my son was born and everything changed.

When Mark asked me to do a photograph for 25 Perfect Days I was excited. It was a big opportunity for me to get some serious exposure and to do something a little different than my usual work. Rapidly the excitement started to gave way to anxiety, the anxiety lead to procrastination and procrastination lead to a photograph that was hurried and half-arsed. Not something I could be proud of and not something worthy of the opportunity. Mark was kind but I knew it would not represent me as I would want it to. Mark had faith in me though – more than I had in myself – and after a few discussions he asked me to contribute half of the images: A daunting but exciting opportunity. Given my anxiety with one image it seems pretty crazy that I said, ‘Why don’t I do all 25? I’d rather do all of them.’ I loved the stories – really loved the stories – and had a concept that I thought would work.

He didn’t think twice about it and more or less said, ‘All yours. Do it exactly as you see it. You’re an artist and I don’t like to mess with an artist’s vision.’

Was I an artist? Sounded cool. Maybe I could be? Maybe I was?

Most of us are pretty good at beating up on ourselves and sometimes no amount of encouragement will stop us from doing it. I’d grown up around great photographers – part of the reason I stayed away from it – and people always told me I had a bit of a knack for it: a good eye. My RISD classes seemed to confirm this and in my 14 courses I was a straight ‘A’ student (well, one B+). Perhaps even confessing  this B+ (do you really need to know about it?) is a confirmation of a confidence that is only still building. That has always been fragile. I don’t want to be a fraud so I volunteer my weaknesses. Every job I do is like the first. Doubt like mold on me. But someone believed in me so much that they did not want me to be stuck in my office forever. I was showing somebody some of my images and she asked if she could have a look. ‘You can’t be sitting behind this desk anymore. How much would it take for you to get started?’ I thought about how much it would take, told her and simple as that, the next day she and her husband, both people I admired but very much senior to myself at work, loaned me the money. I had to start believing or I would let them down. But why was it not as important to let myself down? Why did I value them more? The work rolled in by word of mouth and I was happy with that. I was doing just enough to convince myself I had justified their faith but I knew they wanted more for me. I knew I wanted more for myself. But I was scared of taking responsibility for my life: scared of success. Scared of my dream of freedom and independence: of being the agent of my own success. The dream of doing something that I could be proud of actually coming true.

My son was a dream I didn’t know I had. For 41 years I had been waiting for him. I didn’t know it, but I had been waiting for him. He was unexpected. But he made perfect sense. Much like the photography, people had always told me I would be a great father, and in my heart I think I knew that, but I was terrified. In my mind nothing in this world was made of stone: nothing was forever. Except children. The commitment seemed overwhelming and what if I screwed this up? Because this is something you just CANNOT screw up. What if I did to him what was done to me? That was what really scared me the most. But as I got deep into the process, watching my wife carry this little man in the safety of her belly, loving her more every day for what she was doing for us and for him, my doubts, well , they didn’t disappear, but they went to the place in my mind where they belonged: somewhere deep in the place that tries to moderate arrogance and recklessness with a little caution (never a strong suit). I knew immediately that I would leave the job that had ground me to a nub for the last 8 years and devote my days to him. I knew this was the thing I was supposed to be doing. I knew that if I had a part in bringing this beautiful little thing into the world that I was capable of great things. That I wanted to achieve great things. That I could take myself seriously. So after 5 years of asking ‘Am I a photographer?’ I started my own business: DOMINEYphotography. It  might be a slow roll but I know it is the right move and that I should have done it years ago. This tiny little boy that relied on us for every minute of his day had inspired me more in his first few minutes of life than a lifetime of wasted minutes in mine. Suddenly the rumble of impermanent stones got quiet. I was a husband. I was a man. I was a son. I was a father. Hell. If I was all of those things I could sure as hell be a photographer.

So… after all that: 25 ‘Perfect’ Pictures. It’s a lot of pictures when you agonize over them as much as I do – especially for a project like this. I don’t think I really knew what I was in for, or how little time I’d have with my new Boss in charge, and they were taking me a lot longer than I had imagined.  Just collecting the props took me ages. But I felt really good about the concept and it was something entirely new and pretty exciting: Images that would sit well in the dark, twisted world Mark had created and that I could have a bit of fun with. I read and re-read the stories and each image suggested itself to me willingly. I wanted to take one important but subtle object/detail from each story, compose it simply in a very bleak setting, and add a touch of irony to engage the reader and make them wonder: ‘What the hell is this? A pork chop?’ I could see them clearly in my head but the doubt: could I make it happen?

As I said, the doubt has not disappeared. It will never disappear but I can turn it around: make it the thing that keeps me honest. Keeps me on my toes. Ensures that I am not just ‘contributing to the world’s dross.’ I had to shoot elements separately to make them work. I deliberately underexposed the subject and tried to slowly pull each one out of the darkness. I played with the white balance of the subject and if necessary left the background as it was but changed it for my chosen object. I looked at them over and over again and thought how I could do them better. And then I didn’t. They weren’t going to be perfect. They were never going to be perfect. Neither was I, neither are you and we better all just start accepting it. I really liked them. I was proud of them.

My son turned one on June 27, 2013. Somehow it felt like my first birthday.

So my 25 ‘Perfect’ pictures are done and one of my favorites is included here. It’s not perfect. Some of you will like it. Some of you won’t. But I’m OK with that. I have to be. Because I am a photographer. And I am an artist.

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Huge thanks to Karl for the great guest post, the 25 perfect photos, the invaluable advice and encouragement on the early stages of the novel, and for being an incredible friend.

If you would like to get in touch with Karl, you can email him at DOMINEYphotography@gmail.com

The Music Behind 25 Perfect Days

I’ve been a metalhead for over 30 years and there’s no question that the music has influenced both myself and my writing. With Brightside, a couple of bands inspired different sections and it was simple to decide which song’s lyrics should start the novel. Machine Head’s “Davidian” made for the perfect epigraph, not only because it had been playing in my head for the majority of the writing, but because it contained so many elements of the book in one simple sentence. You can read more on that here.

But 25 Perfect Days is an entirely different beast. This dystopian nightmare is comprised of 25 interconnected short stories that were written over a long period of time, the first story, “Five Minutes Alone,” is a dozen years old. The stories each have different main characters, plots, and feel to them. Some are distinctly horror, others sci-fi, a couple more mainstream. I listened to a variety of bands when writing these stories so to find the perfect epigraph I had to consider what themes ran through the book.

25 is a dark cautionary tale, what one reader described as a “barrage of bleakness.” It tries to capture the sacrifice, love, and courage of family members as they face the unthinkable. Only the weak and greedy give in to The Way and Controllers. Slipknot’s “All Hope is Gone,” from the album of the same name, seemed to be the perfect fit.

We have made the present obsolete

What do you want? What do you need?

We’ll find a way when all hope is gone.

                 ”All Hope is Gone” – Slipknot

I’ve been a fan of Slipknot since I heard “Spit it Out” in ’99 and love their live shows, even though I almost stroked out last time I saw them. A friend of mine hung out with Slipknot a couple times and told me that Corey Taylor would highlight lines from books that inspired him. I thought it was pretty cool that it can work both ways.

Inside 25 Perfect Days I also managed to add a few nods to some favorite bands. I used to write short stories all the time and my favorite way to spark ideas would be to smoke a bowl, down an energy drink, throw my playlist on random and flip through hundreds of CD’s. A lot of my short stories were named/originated this way, and I enjoyed doing it, my little tribute to some great bands.

Usually naming short stories isn’t an issue for me, but with 25 PD I seriously limited myself, sticking to each title beginning with a numeral from 1-25.  For a little help, I turned to my music collection.

Anyone who loves metal already caught the first one, “5 Minutes Alone” a song by Pantera that’s just as badass today as it was when it came out nearly 20 years ago. I remember blasting this in my dorm room, pissing off my neighbors. I’d be a happy man if my story captured a fraction of that song’s intensity.

The next title is “2 Minutes to Midnight,” a tribute to Iron Maiden, the band that turned me on to metal with Piece of Mind, still an all-time favorite. Because Maiden is such an incredible band, I had to give them an extra nod, titling “Twenty-Two Pine Avenue” in reference to “22 Acacia Avenue.” I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve seen Maiden, but each time is a blast. My older brother, Mike, who took me to my first show, will be going with me in September to catch them once again. I wish I had a photo of the drawing I did of Eddie when I was at Brown. A month or so after this photo was taken, I tore all the posters down and drew a larger-than-life size Eddie reaching through my wall. Yeah, I was a dork back then too.

The last band I borrowed a song title from is pretty obscure. Nailbomb was a side-project of Max Cavalera (Sepultura, Soulfly, Cavalera Conspiracy) that played 2 shows in 1995, one of which was recorded for an album. I didn’t have the pleasure of seeing them, but I played the hell out of this CD. “24 Hour Bullshit” is a great title for a story that tries to show what mainstream media really is.

I hope all of the band’s that I’ve mentioned take this as a sign of thanks. They’ve all influenced me and I’m grateful for the art they’ve created.

 

Stronger Than All

In an earlier post, I mentioned how important strength was to me, especially as a teenager and young adult. I wanted to become as strong as possible and that strength helped me considerably when I started training to fight. Although I had very little skill, I managed to hold my own mainly due to that strength, and the few wins I had were because of it.

Back when I was fighting, coaches were just beginning to understand the importance of proper strength training. The general philosophy was more was better and both overtraining and injuries were a common occurrence. There have been great advancements in the field and it’s helped mold today’s MMA competitors into some of the best athletes in the world.

When I spent a week at Alliance MMA this January, I jumped at the chance to do a training session with their Strength Coach, Doug Balzarini. A big part of Unlocking the Cage is trying to push my 40 year old butt back into shape and I thought there’d be no one better to talk to for advice. With clients like Dominick Cruz, Brandon Vera, Mike Chandler, Alexander Gustafsson and so many other top-level fighters, you can understand why.

The workout with Doug was embarrassing. Although I’d finally reached a point where I could make it through a typical MMA workout, Doug’s short session kicked my ass. It served as a great reminder though that not much time is needed for a good workout and it can be done anywhere. Some of the best workouts I had while fighting were when my coach, Ricardo, would take us to the park and run us through endless plyometric exercises.

I mentioned to Doug that a lot of the fighters I’ve interviewed aren’t taking advantage of this type of training. Not every gym is fortunate to have its own strength coach and many fighters feel they can’t afford one on their own. Instead, they go to the gym and do bench presses and basic exercises thinking that’s enough. If you’re serious about your career and want some guidance, contact Doug to devise a solid plan of attack. He’s an incredibly friendly guy with a ton of knowledge and thanks to the wonders of technology you can do the sessions from anywhere. Be sure to also check out his website and YouTube channel for a variety of great workouts.

Here are a few workouts for you to try out.

1. MMA & Healthy Shoulders - http://dbstrength.com/mma-and-healthy-shoulders/

2. Rope Exercises - http://dbstrength.com/top-heavy-ropes-exercises-for-mma-athletes/

3. Bodyweight Moves - http://dbstrength.com/bodyweight-exercises-for-mma-5-moves-you-should-do/

4. 5 Moves MMA Athletes Should Be Doing - http://dbstrength.com/5-strength-moves-mma-athletes-should-be-doing/

5. Midsection Madness - http://dbstrength.com/midsection-madness-for-mma/

6. Partner Training - http://dbstrength.com/partner-training-for-mma-conditioning/

 

Pictures of all the Pretty Stuff

In the last post, I mentioned my daughter’s desire to become an artist and her new interest in photography.  

Although Livvie had put up a fight about going to the park, she was excited when we got there. I put her in charge of carrying the blanket and finding the best place to put it down. She chose a nice spot on a hill, pointing out all the shade for Jake.

While we were shaking out the blanket, a few dozen elderly people walked by and started squealing about Jake who I was holding like a football. The ladies swarmed us with How old, Is it a boy, Oh how adorable, and We thought it was a doll. They were super nice and I was glad to make their morning a little brighter, but when I looked for Livvie, she was back a few feet looking left out. I brought her beside me and told them what a great big sister she was and let her field some questions. She was awesome with her one word answers, kissed Jake a few times and said her soft little goodbyes waving just her fingers.

The group moved on and the three of us relaxed on the blanket until Livvie grew bored of her brother and begged for me to push her on the swings. I didn’t want to make her feel second but Jake was hungry. I said she had to wait until I finished feeding him then realized I could do both things at once, pretty proud of myself for only dropping the bottle once, not concerned with another parent watching me lick the sand off because my hands were full (study shows I’m not disgusting)

Livvie would have stayed on the swings the whole day, but after the second time I dropped Jake’s pajamas, which I was using as the blanket I’d forgotten, I convinced her to head back to the blanket so I could take some photos. And yes, after I took some of her, she would be allowed to take a couple.

Livvie played along and was a good little model despite the sun in her eyes. As soon as I set down the camera, she jumped to her feet. “My turn. You lie down with Jake.”

I asked her if she was sure. “Do you remember how to use it?”

“Yeah, easy, just hold this button down until it aims and push it.”

I put the strap around her neck, thinking about the cost of the camera and how Livvie had my wife’s dexterity. “Yeah, pretty much. And check your photos after you take them to see if you need to move around.” I kept the instructions simple because that’s the extent of my knowledge.

She said she got it and went to work, snapping photos, bringing the camera over to show me what a good job she was doing. She loved it.

“That’s probably enough for today. Why don’t you go on the slide for a bit? Here, let me help you with the camera.”

She stayed at the edge of the blanket. “Can I take some more? I want Jake by himself.”

When she was finished with him, she looked all around then back at me. “Daddy? Can I take pictures of all the pretty stuff? I won’t break it.”

She was ready for me to say no, the camera too expensive for her to play with. But she’d been responsible so far and I could see what this meant to her. “Okay, but you have to be careful, don’t run with it. Got it?”

Her smile was huge but she was taking this seriously and gave a sharp nod. She put the camera to her eye and clicked away at the trees.

“Don’t walk while looking in the camera.”

She sort of listened.

“And don’t go backward down the hill.”

Livvie made it down without tripping and I loosened up, snapped a photo of my own because I hadn’t seen her this excited in a while.

I watched what she was doing, how happy she got when she saw the image she wanted to capture.  That space between the branches. The beautiful sky. A towering palm tree.

All the everyday things we take for granted can be pretty amazing if we take a moment to appreciate them. Seeing the world through a child’s eye is something I miss and want to recapture. I don’t want to ruin Livvie’s ability of seeing real beauty, by not paying attention to it myself.

We left the park on such a high note. Livvie couldn’t wait to tell her mom what she did. When Jen congratulated Livvie on doing such a great job, she also mentioned that photography is a form of art. When Livvie heard that she became so excited. I asked her if she’d like some real photography lessons from our neighbor, Shilah, who’s helped with Unlocking the Cage and did a photo shoot for the family last week. Livvie was thrilled and can’t wait for today’s lesson. She gets to improve as an artist and is really looking forward to passing on a much-needed lesson to me.

If you’re in the Southern CA area and need a good photographer, you should definitely check out Shilah’s Facebook page.

I’ll be an Artist When I Grow Up

When Livvie was three, she told us she was going to be an artist when she grew up. We said that was awesome, do you know what kind? She wasn’t so sure, but said she liked painting and all the crafts she does at her aunt’s.

Despite having an appetite for sports and a great genetic makeup (stayed tuned for post on Livvie’s sports specific DNA results), we aren’t counting on that as our retirement fund and will encourage an appreciation of the arts just as much. Athletes are always an injury away from ending their career. With art you can always create.

While Livvie’s physical side was taken care of with gymnastics and martial arts, we played with coloring books at home and did drawings that the school teachers said were past her level. Auntie continued arts and crafts and for Livvie’s fourth birthday she threw her a super cool artist party.

Right around this time, Livvie found the stage, overcoming her shyness so she could sing and dance in the local community theater. Suessical, Oliver Twist, Beauty and the Beast. Each show her movements become bigger and bolder, her singing voice a little louder. Perhaps the performing arts are more her thing.

When she turned four and a half, we signed her up for an art class even though she was supposed to be five. We couldn’t believe what a great job she was doing and she loved it, her

face beaming when she showed off the drawings at the end of class. ;After several weeks she said she didn’t want to do it anymore. I’d guessed it was because it cut into play time, but she said it was like dance class. She didn’t want to follow instructions. We tried to convince her that the only successful way to break the rules is by learning the foundations, figuring out what works and what doesn’t in each of them. I promised she’d illustrate one of my novels if she kept practicing. She said she’d do the book, but no more classes. We finally agreed, figured she’ll take it again when she’s ready or find something else.

Livvie is also helping me with my writing, and I promised her co-authorship on Puzzle at the Preschool. She helped come up with many of the story ideas and inspired the main character. But even though she enjoys that in spurts, it doesn’t keep her attention for long.

When her brother was born last month, Livvie began to show serious interest in my camera, perhaps because I was using it much more myself.  Since I always had my hands full, she offered several times to take the photos. My Canon’s held up to my abuse on the road but Livvie’s only five. I warned her to be careful, put the strap around her neck, and told her the basics. She snapped off some nice ones, very proud of herself.

Photography’s an art I’ve only recently began to appreciate, my world flying by too fast to actually pursue. On Thursday, I was in charge of the kids and wanted to get out of the house. Livvie didn’t want to go to the park so early so I bribed her with the camera. “I’ll let you take a few photos of Jake.” That got her moving.

The next post will be Part Two – A Day at the Park