Hingham, MA, day five, part IV

Despite last night’s lack of sleep, my pre-workout supplement and a Red Bull, all mixed together in a shaker cup with a “blender ball” with 24g protein powder, allowed me to push through a surprisingly grueling delt / trap workout.

I got to work at 0730, and by 1130, not only was my a** dragging, I felt distinctly ill. I ate my 1//2 turkey and spicy mustard sandwich on multigrain toasted bread and a stick of low-fat string cheese with some effort, then spent a couple of hours zeroing fourteen brand, spanking new M-4 carbines, intending to eat the other half of the sandwich and a salad for lunch, but just the thought of eating almost made me puke. I forced down a 40g protein Muscle Milk to make up for the missed meal, then spent the rest of the work day cleaning, then tagging the weapons as zeroed, maintenance checked, and cleaned, turning them in to the arms room, then leaving for my temporary quarters, still feeling ill.

It didn’t occur to me until I began to cook dinner what the problem might be…Not enough calories to support this twelve week heavy lifting program I’m on (a HIT hybrid). So I made two 1/4 pound bison patties, a big bowl of mixed veggies, AND a bowl of granola cereal, forced it all down, and took a nap.

When I woke up, I felt good as new. Chugged. down two bottles of water, read John Adams for an hour, and am now showered and in bed as I write this.

So, I have to eat more, at least for the next nine weeks until I switch back to a more traditional split. By my new calculations I need 3800 (I’ll just round that up to an even 4000) calories and 300 grams of protein per day. That’s a lot of food (and whey protein “shakes”), so I’ll go shopping tomorrow for groceries and plastic containers, and spend Sunday cooking and packing a week’s worth of meals.

It’s a constant learning process, building muscle without getting fat, but when my first class of marksman candidates reports in, they’ll be evaluating me just as I’ll be evaluating them. I have no worries about my performance in the classroom or on the range, but these guys are half my age – I do not want to look anything but in my best condition, I know how these boys think. Staying in the best shape I can given my afflictions and old wounds has become like a second job.

At least it keeps me from dwelling too much on how much I miss my wife and home. There’s a silver lining in every cloud. Good night, and OUT here for the day.

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