Without you there is no me; more than enough reason to celebrate your birthday.

Through your tears, I learned to be compassionate.

Through your smile, I learned to be kind

Through your courage, I learned to be fearless.

Through your perseverance, I learned to be a fighter.

Through your patience, I learned to be humble.

Through your intelligence, I learned to ask why.

Through your pride, I learned self-respect.

Through your devotion, I learned God makes all things possible.

Through your unconditional love, I learned that no one else can fill my empty hurting places quite like you can.

I am your born legacy molded by the strength of your character and the sum of your lessons.

But more importantly, I am a son who loves his mother endlessly.

Time is relative...

Worst excuse for not exercising has got to be “I don’t have time”. If the 168 hours that occur each week are insufficient to fit in 30 minutes of exercise per day, then perhaps such strapped for time persons would be more agreeable to spending 6-8 weeks recovering from a heart attack. One could realistically lose 12-16 pounds in the same amount of time with regular exercise and a sensible diet to dramatically decrease the chances of having a heart attack all together. Couple this thought with the ironic fact that an important part of recovering from a heart attack is to begin exercising. Oops, I forgot that you don’t have time to exercise.

Certified, But Are You Qualified?

The terms professional and qualified are complementary characteristics; however they are not one and the same. Profession speaks to money, while qualifications are used to measure or predict the thoroughness of someone’s actions. The idea of receiving a fee for performing a service is relatively straight forward, but the variables that qualify someone to do their specific job(s) are debatable.

The personal training profession is largely unregulated by most governments anywhere in the world including the United States, which is not to say the industry is without any guidance or quality assurances. In fact, there are a number of reputable organizations certified by the NAAC (National Accreditation and Assessment Council) such as ACE (American Council on Exercise), NASM (National Academy of Sports Medicine), NSCA (National Strength & Conditioning Association) and ACSM (American College of Sports Medicine) that administer exams to become a certified personal trainer and help develop effective and safe standards for performing health assessments, fitness testing and designing exercise programs. Kudos to those fitness trainers who have obtained one or more accredited certifications, but that achievement alone does not make for a good trainer. This is true even if a government agency were to throw in their blessing as well. Knowledge is only useful when it can be readily applied through practical experience to achieve consistent and meaningful results. For example, who cares if you can academically explain how to take a manual blood pressure reading, if when presented with the opportunity to do so your fingers stumble to adjust the knob on the air valve at the right speed leading to a botched reading? If similar mishaps continually occur your professional credibility will be diminished significantly over time, especially if those blunders result in injuries to clients.

Becoming a certified personal trainer means that you have been recognized as having the basic core knowledge necessary to create exercise programs for the general population. But to truly excel and perfect your skills requires frequent and consistent practice along with continually exploring and learning additional knowledge related to but not covered in your particular certification program.

If you honestly want to be able compete with the heavy-weights in the industry a single ACE personal training certificate is not going to be enough. The fitness industry is highly competitive and many trainers have college/university degrees related to exercise, multiple certifications, competitive sports experiences, international internships, published material, awards, media exposure, etc.

So come correct and bring the thunder, or get lost and dusted!

Dear Diary...

I am completely exhausted from this morning's activities:

I woke Brett with loud meowing and rough scampering across the bed at 6:30 A.M. Seeing the annoyed look on his face coupled with the fact that I knew he didn't have to be at work until 10:00 A.M. was priceless.

I toke just two bites of my over-priced Fancy Feast Virgin Tuna and then left the rest. Again, I'm dieing with laughter over the annoyed look on his face.

For being such a good sport, I decided to cover the bathroom floor with some cat sand from my liter box. Heavy grit is just what you need when you're stepping out the shower with wet feet. Plus it gives the bathroom a nice marked territory mating season fragrance.

Next I removed the curtains from the living room window, because they were hideous and blocking the sun for my afternoon naps.

Then I played a game of knock the crates of music Cd's over. It's the same rules as 52 card pick-up. Guess who has to pick-up the Cd's?

Next I was looking forward to doing some paper cutting. So I headed to the bedroom to get some tissue paper from inside of Brett's shoe boxes. I make the best snow flakes.

Afterwards I remembered there were some clean clothes lying on the dining room table that I hadn't spread cat hair on yet. So I rolled around the laundry a while until it was time for my nail appointment. The armchair in the living room makes for a perfect scratching post.

I got hungry, so I finished the remainder of my breakfast. Then I gave myself a rough tongue bath.

What a morning, and I still have some IT work to do. I've got 15 minutes left to remove the key pads off of Brett's laptop before noon.

I plead not guilty your Honor on the basis of misinformation. When I agreed to participate in the Malaysia My Second Home Program I was told English was readily spoken. How was I suppose to know what 'Zon Tunda' meant.

History Around Me

I’m from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, but at age 15 I settled in a suburb just outside Washington D.C. Reason being, my mother’s employer, Ma Bell, transferred her position to the D.C. area after the government forced the Mega Corporation to brake-up its monopoly. My reaction to the migration was one of emotional resistance and uneasiness which lasted two years. A teenager who is about to start varsity football in his upcoming junior year and hoping to get an athletic scholarship to Penn State does not want to move. But the ‘Chocolate City’ characterized by Go-Go music, college hoops (let’s go Hoyas), Mayor for life (Marion Barry) and host to Michael Jordan and Mike Tyson became my home for 23 years before moving to Malaysia.

But this post isn’t about what I lost or teenage trial and tribulations; rather it is about what I learned. By virtue of location historical events unfolded right before my eyes. I didn’t have to read a small blip from a newspaper to find out why African American Men from all parts of the United States gathered on Washington’s Capitol Mall on October 16, 1995, because I attended the ‘Million Man March’.












I saw firsthand the bruised Pentagon Building after 911. I can direct you to the exact location where the attempted assassination of Ronald Regan took place, because at one time I worked 100 ft. away from the hotel where it happened. I can even recite to you mundane facts like generally what the former Speaker of The White House, George Stephanopoulos likes to do when he works out. I also recall him having an annoyed look on his face like ‘do you know who I am’ whenever he was asked to present his gym membership card at the front desk.

In retrospect I appreciate this knowledge now; I didn’t when I lived there. You tend to take everyday occurrences for granted, even those occurrences that are of historical and international proportion.

Today I wished I was back in Washington D.C. to bear witness to the Inauguration of the 44th President of United States of America, Barack Obama. It would have been nice to have that memory to share with my future grand children.


P.S.

I eventually received an athletic scholarship from Howard University for Taekwondo.

Pole Dancing

No, I'm not looking to perform three 20-minute sets on Friday and Saturday evenings to put myself through college or turn in my boxing gloves for a pair of 6 inch pumps. I just thought I might try something well off my radar. Case in point, I just recently started training for Aikido which probably doesn't surprise anyone. But the idea of me pole dancing leaves most people with a puzzled look on their face. Luckily my feelings and ego are pretty much bullet proof to any wise cracks. The fact that I have the kahunas to make this post should tell you that.

Whether any heterosexual homophobic jocks want to admit it, performing pole stunts takes a considerable amount of strength. Trying to hang upside down from a vertical pole using mostly the muscles of the inner-thighs and no hands usually results in a head concussion. I have to give the You-Tube pole dancing superstars their props! They make the difficult look easy.

Rough economic times call for drastic measures. I may go on a male pole dance review entertaining lonely-heart women at the next high tea. Please don’t take me seriously. The 9 second video that follows is all I have to give.