Rush Hour

He sat in the now non-moving car in the rush-hour traffic looking at his watch knowing he would be late to work.  The woman in the car to the left of him was yelling at the person ahead of her, apparently thinking she would be heard through the panes of glass and over the radios and engines.  A baby was in her back seat wailing, but the woman didn’t seem to notice.  He looked around him at the never-ending rows of cars and angry people and thought aloud that the people resembled lemmings packed into shiny metal boxes.  A slight grin came to his face at this comment. 

Every day he made his way to work through the busy commute but he never complained.  Waking up at 4:30 AM for the ninety minute commute didn’t seem like a lot to complain about, especially since his company loved him and promoted him every chance they could get.  He loved his job, he would do it for free if he had to, but the six-figure salary they gave him was fine with him.  He donated much of his salary to charities, including his church and to local universities.  He was a good father and husband, as his family would attest.  He was not perfect by any means, but he tried hard to be as good as he could possibly be.  He turned up the radio in his car to drown out the constant sound of blaring horns on the highway.  He smiled as he thought how his boss would jokingly hassle him about being late.  He hoped the traffic wouldn’t be as bad on the way home from work so he could see his daughter in the school play.  He thought of how she was so adorable when she begged him to come before he had left for work.  Daydreaming about his daughter, he glanced to his left and saw the same woman as before turned around in her seat yelling at the baby in the back seat.  She was grabbing the baby by the arm and shaking him.  He couldn’t believe that people like that were parents. 

The traffic began to merge, and being the selfless person that he was, he let some cars enter ahead of him.  This angered the woman, who was now behind him, so much that she accelerated and whipped her car onto the shoulder of the road, trying to cut him off to get ahead of him.  As she pulled in front of him, she clipped the front of his car.  The back end of her car swung violently from the impact, tipped up on its two left wheels, and then flipped onto its side.  It slid for a hundred feet before flipping again and throwing the woman, who hadn’t been wearing a seat belt, through the windshield before rolling virtually unscathed onto the grass to the right of the highway.   He slammed on his brakes to avoid hitting the flipped car.  Panicking, he looked around but didn’t see the baby.  He ran out of his car and heard the screams of the baby coming from the overturned car.  Gas was leaking from the car, and the engine had caught fire, but he feared only for the baby.  He got to the car and saw that the baby was trapped under the back seat, seemingly untouched, wrapped in its white baby blanket.  He climbed through the broken windshield, stretching his arms to reach the crying baby under the seat, when he felt the baby’s arm reach out to him. He wrapped his hand around the baby’s body, and gently pulled him out from under the seat.  He felt a sense of relief as he freed the child, and when he looked into the baby’s teary pure blue eyes, he broke down and wept. 

The overwhelming sense of elation was replaced instantaneously with a sense of horror as the fire grew around him. The crowd of on-lookers who stood hundreds of feet back pleaded with him to get out of the car, but his shirt caught on a piece of twisted metal while trying to escape through the broken window.  Looking around for help, he saw the woman responsible for this tragedy through the scorching flames, and was stunned when he saw her piercing red gaze of pure hatred.  He couldn’t hear her words, but he felt her angry screams pierce his soul.  Feeling defeated, he tried to hand the baby to someone to take to safety, but no one would come near him.  The on-lookers remained frozen in place far back from the wreckage, unable to turn away but unwilling to help.  Screaming for someone to save the baby, the fire reached the gasoline tank.  His pleas were silenced as he and the baby died in a horrific, fiery explosion.  Within an hour, the debris and bodies had been removed, and the lemmings continued on in their shiny metal boxes.    

K. Abbey  2000, 2012

This was a short story I wrote way back in college back in Colorado, but I can relate to it more now since I have been living in Southern California for a while  (lots of traffic and asshole drivers!)    I did fix/update a few of the lines recently but kept most of it the same.  It is similar to the 9/11 story that I wrote in that it is written in the 3rd person.  Unlike that story, this ending is a little more depressing.  I was trying to use some color symbolism in this, and I also quoted some Police lyrics in this.. big surprise.    In the story we have good, evil, innocent, and the apathetic.  Unfortunately, good and innocent do not triumph in the end.  I also remember trying to have the contrast of the "evil" woman grabbing the baby by the arm and shaking it and the "good" main character grabbing the arm while trying to save the baby's life.  I was inspired originally to write this by seeing car accidents and people's natural reaction to stop and look.  Maybe it's just human nature.  What do we want to see?   Will we really help when we are put in that situation?   Or just remain apathetic, staying far back "unable to turn away but unwilling to help"?

Protein, Protein, Protein!

Wow,  it's been a while!  There have been a lot of things that have happened in the past few months--new city, new job, so things have been pretty busy. 

I wrote a pretty personal blog around the turn of the new year, but I didn't feel comfortable sharing it to a wide audience.  It was good to let out my thoughts, reflect on the past couple of New Year's, but I just wasn't sure it was best to publish to everyone on fb. 

I don't have any new poems or stories to share, so I thought about writing about something a little less personal, but something else that has been part of my life the past couple of years.  In 2010, when the 5 year relationship I had been in was ultimately ending, I took a long look in the mirror and tried to learn from my mistakes.   Maybe I didn't like the reflection I was seeing (I know I didn't).  I needed to channel my aggression and emotion to a positive outlet and not just sit around and feel sorry for myself.

I had gotten pretty skinny around that time, for me anyway, weighing less than when I graduated high school.  Granted, I was a bit chubbier in high school and college.   I was never the most athletic person when I was younger--when I was really young, maybe preschool or so, the doctor told my mom to have me hang on monkey bars to develop more strength because my arms were so skinny and long (thanks mom for the small wrists! oh well...)  And two summers in a row around middle school age I had significant injuries right at the beginning of the summer.   The first year I broke my collarbone and sprained my wrist tumbling over my bike handrails, and the next year I broke my arm badly in a 4 wheeler accident.  I was not able to get out and do much those summers, and that is the time I gained the most weight.  In high school, I never chose to go to the "Iron Works" gym class like most of the guys signed up for.  I felt like I would embarrass myself trying to lift weights with all the jocks.  I would instead sign up for the "Team Games" PE class which was mostly girls and un-athletic guys.  Maybe that would have been a good strategy after all, if I had any game whatsoever!    But seriously, I had no upper body strength and had no idea what it meant to eat well.   I remember going to a convenience store next to the high school for lunch on many occasions to buy a lunch of Chili Cheese Freetos, a Jolly rancher stick, and a Big Slam Mountain Dew.  On other days it was Taco Bell, Wendy's, Chinese food, pizza, some sort of junk food.   Even in college, it was the same thing... lots of beer and junk food.  And homework!  So it's no wonder I did get a bit flabby.

Here is a very flattering picture from my college years  :)  Actually it was the Mardi Gras after graduation, in 2001.  If you couldn't tell, Joe and I had a few cocktails.

I started to get into working out about a year later after starting my full time job, but I didn't eat enough.  I eventually did get more lean but hadn't really researched how to get stronger, workout regimens, and what or how much to eat.  I would routinely go long periods without eating much, and with my racquetball leagues, in which competitive games could burn over 1000 calories an hour, I was never eating enough protein to sustain muscle growth.  Deep down I think was still worried about getting "fat" again.  I had assumed when I was younger that's who I would always be... that I couldn't change.

Over the years I lost motivation and wasn't seeing results that I did when I had first started working out.  I began to realize that I may have been too concerned about gaining any weight back.  I saw the pictures of myself that I posted below and realized for probably the first time ever that I was now too skinny.  I wanted to bulk up and try to get bigger.  So in Dec 2009/Jan 2010 I bought a bunch of whey protein powder from GNC and pre-workout supplements.  I started going to the gym more often, upping the weight training from 2 days a week to 4-5 days a week.  I was more motivated in the gym, and every song I listened to I felt I could relate to, which just made me push harder.  Every morning for breakfast I would have a protein shake in addition to yogurt/granola, or eggs and toast if I had enough time.  Previously, I would typically just eat a bowl of cereal (no protein), and not have any supplements whatsoever after my workouts.  With this new "program", I would usually have some sort of protein drink or workout drink before I worked out, and always a protein shake after I worked out.  Sometimes I would even drink a casein protein shake before bed for protein absorption throughout the night.

For a week last year I counted all of my meals on the My Fitness Pal calorie counter app on the I phone, just to see the stats of what I was eating.  I was averaging over 200 grams of protein per day (up to a max of 250 grams), and around 3000 calories.  I estimated that I was eating over 80 grams more protein per day than I had been before adding the protein supplements.   My metabolism had increased to the point where I was getting hungry every couple of hours, so I always had snacks of nuts or Cliff bars to help sustain me through the work day, keeping to the philosophy of eating multiple small meals throughout the day.  I kept my diet pretty much the same otherwise, I try to eat healthy when I can but wasn't too strict about it.  The big change was the increased frequency of my meals.. and of course the added protein.  The first year I put on about 7 lbs, most of it in the first few months.  This was a lot for me, as my weight never really changed in the 5 previous years.  As I gained weight some people told me I looked skinnier, which kind of threw me off (and made me question what i was doing!), but I figured that my shoulders and chest were getting bigger so that made my waist look smaller.  The next year, 2011, the weight went on slower, but once I developed tendinitis from racquetball (and most likely the increased weightlifting), the cardio I was doing dropped as I had to take a break from racquetball. I focused more on my lower body workouts due to my elbow issues, doing more free weight exercises than I had done before.  Thus I was able to put on about 6 more lbs, while still staying pretty lean.   I was even trying new things like hot yoga with a group from work to help keep me flexible for playing racquetball and to just mix up my workouts and help keep me motivated.


With those changes I was striving to make on the inside came the changes on the outside.  Maybe it helped to see myself differently physically, see myself as a different person.  While difficult, the physical changes were still much easier to make.....


It does feel good to be stronger and healthier than I've ever been at 33 years old, and to get compliments from friends or acquaintances that they can notice a difference.  It goes to show that nutrition is just as important if not more important than the actual workout. I'll still have the skinny arms but at least there's a little more there now  :) 

Nov 2011 - 177 lbs

Oct 2009  - 164 lbs

This blog wasn't meant to be self-centered or me wanting attention, I just wanted to share some of the reasons behind my motivation, as it became an important part of my life.  When I started, I did it for much different reasons than I do now... I was asked by someone in the gym last week about what my goal was.  His name is Leslie and he recently moved from Africa--he has put on 25 lbs in 8 months!!  His weight has increased from 125 to 150 lbs, by doing a similar protein strategy with zero cardio, and he is pretty ripped (see my story isn't so special now! But 125 lbs??)  His question made me stop and think, why was I continuing to take the protein, lift the weights... Do I want to gain more weight? Get in better shape?  Its really kind of silly on the surface when you think about it... But its more about change... setting your mind to a goal and accomplishing it.   Turning a negative into a positive.  Self-confidence.  I guess it's just a way of life now.  What is clear is that I am now doing it for me.