Not something you see anymore in the 21st century.

Bullgrit

My boys, (especially Calfgrit6), love playing hide-n-seek with me in the house. They almost never ask their mom, and they never play by themselves; it’s always best with daddy. And I love playing it with them. I rock at hide-n-seek!

They prefer to be the seekers because they like trying to find me, and they don’t have the patience, themselves, to stay hidden in one place very long. When we first started playing, they’d search for me a long time, but almost inevitably, I’d have to give myself up when they were stumped. But every time I did that, I lost that spot as a viable hiding place – they’d make sure to check that spot in subsequent games. So then, instead of letting them find me when they gave up looking around, I’d just sneak out of my spot and “appear” out in the open somewhere. This let me keep my good hiding places a secret.

Sometimes I’d sneak out of a room they hadn’t checked yet and sneak into an area they’d already searched. This could keep the game going for many minutes until they grew too frustrated. A few times of this, and they got mad about it. It’s now a standard rule that I can’t do that anymore. *sigh*

Sometimes they have to get their mom into the seeking, and that’s when I get really serious about the game. Outsmarting a 6-year-old and a 9-year-old is one thing, but outsmarting an adult, well, that’s when my competitive streak shows itself. Sometimes she plays along just to help them, giving ideas, dropping hints, and such, but then there are times when she really gets into it and has to start calculating, “Where can a grown man hide in this house? Would he actually break his own limbs to fit inside that furniture?” (I might.)

The most fun moments in a game of hide-n-seek is when the boys are near me, and search all around me, (or even directly at my spot), but they fail to find me. I have to hold back the laughter when they move on to the next area or room.

One time I was hiding in Calfgrit9’s bed – it was an unmade mess of a blanket, a couple pillows, and several stuffed animals – both boys searched the bed pretty thoroughly, twice, but they failed to notice me. I was wedged down in the corner of where the bed is up against the wall, so the lump I made in the mess was relatively small. They searched that spot once early, and then again later at their mother’s suggestion, even pulling one of the pillows and a couple stuffed animals off of me, but they still didn’t find me. I scared the bejeebers out of them when I rose up with a roar while they were leaving the room. It’s now a standard rule that I can’t do that anymore. *sigh*

Then another time, I hid pretty much in plain sight: I stood up on the sink counter in their bathroom, just to the right side of the door. I had a white towel in my hands, held to cover my lower half — the part at their eye level — (towel was white, walls were white), and just stood very still. If they had done more than a cursory look in the bathroom, (in the tub behind the shower curtain), or if they had looked high, they would have spotted me, surely. But neither boy found me when they looked at separate times. Then they got Mom in on the search, and she found me after several minutes when she gave the bathroom a more thorough look, (after first looking in the tub, herself).

I must admit, too, that one reason why I like hide-n-seek in the house is that sometimes I can find a nice comfortable spot, (like in the bed), where I can just rest for a few minutes. After being ridden like a horse, chasing the boys around the yard, or playing soccer or Nerf gun tag in the cul de sac, it’s nice to be able to lay quietly under some warm blankets and pillows.

One of these games, I’m probably going to fall asleep where I hide, and put the family into a panic when they can’t find me and I don’t reveal myself. I can just imagine my wife trying to explain the situation to the police when they answer the distress call. “Yes, please officers, help us seek and find my husband. We’ve lost him somewhere in the house.”

“OK ma’am. I’ll call in the K-9 unit.”

Bullgrit

The last time I posted about my workout regimen, I was afraid I might not be able to complete the Insanity workout. Well, I pushed through, and I’m now “certified insane.”

Oh my God! Insanity is hard. It’s not even fun, it’s so hard. The P90X workout was extreme, but Insanity is just brutal. After each P90X workout, I felt good, on an endorphin high. But the Insanity workouts are sheer punishment to be endured; afterward, I was just completely worn out. But there is no denying that it can make you fit, super fit. Both regimens work well for getting real fit, real fast. (If you’re interested in learning about them, go look them up. I’m not selling or representing for the company. I’m just a very satisfied customer.)

See these pics for my results:

The thing that really surprised me the most about this whole process was how much fat I had on my body. I knew I was a bit overweight; I figured I could loose at least 10 pounds, maybe even 15 pounds. But at the end of my first 13-weeks round of P90X (the 1.0 pic above), I had lost 18 pounds of padding. I could tell I had more to loose, but I thought maybe just 4 or 5 more pounds.

After finishing about 8 weeks of a second round of P90X (the 1.5 pic above), I had lost a total of 24 pounds — 6 more beyond the 1.0 round. I was astonished at how much fat I had apparently been carrying around on my frame. I never thought I was 20+ pounds overweight. But still, I could tell I had a little more fat to shed to find my six-pack abs. But I seemed to have hit a plateau in my fitness climb; I went some weeks without loosing any fat weight.

I really, really wanted my six-pack abs. A simple desire to “get into shape” became a hard drive to get ripped; it had become the object of my mid-life crisis. Some men buy a sports car, some men pick up a girlfriend, some men run off to “find myself.” My MLC took the form of wanting a hardbody — a body as good or better than the one I had at half my current age. I wanted to be able to keep up physically with my young sons. I wanted to be able to run, jump, and climb faster, easier, and for longer, (without it costing 6 million dollars).

So in hopes of breaking my plateau with P90X, I started Insanity. Taking on a regimen of straight cardio did, indeed, overcome my plateau. In the 9 weeks of Insanity, I lost another 15 pounds for a total loss of 39 pounds. Look at those pics above, again: the “P90X 1.5” pic is 15 pounds heavier than the “Insanity 1.0” pic. That floors me. When I was at the “P90X 1.5” stage of my effort, I would have thought 15 less pounds would make me just skin and bones.

In the couple of weeks since finishing Insanity, I’ve lost another 2 pounds just because my metabolism is much higher revved than it used to be. Human physiology just amazes me.

I’ve lost 41 pounds of fat. Forty-one pounds! That’s three to four times more than I expected. And I’m not skinny — I’m lean. P90X and Insanity are not “just” weight-loss programs, they’re full body fitness. Hell, half of the P90X regimen is weight training to build muscle mass.

I feel freakin’ fantastic! I don’t want to sit on the sofa and watch TV, anymore. I want to move. I want to run, jump, and climb.

But I feel kind of weird about all this. At my core, I’m a nerd, a gamer geek. Have I turned into a jock? Well, I’m still not particularly interested in sports — watching or playing. I still like to read comic books, play RISK, and watch Star Wars.

I don’t have any urge to throw a ball, but I do enjoy push-ups. I haven’t a clue what the infield fly rule is, but I do know how many carbs I need in a day.

I want to play Dungeons & Dragons, but I don’t want to consume the Mountain Dew and Doritos that stereotypically go with a game. I’ll buy a comic book, but I’ll also flip through a fitness magazine for a couple minutes.

Well, whatever strange culture mutation I’ve become, I kind of like it. I’m having a great mid-life crisis.

Bullgrit

Calfgrit6 has always been an early riser. When he was a toddler he’d wake up at 5 a.m., and I’d put him in his stroller for a walk around the block before the sun came up. In the past couple of years, he’d wake up pretty regularly at 6 a.m.

We tried changing his bed time to later, but that made him wake up earlier. His normal bed time has been 7:30, and he’d wake up at 6:00. If we put him to bed at 8:00, he’d wake up at 5:30. Put him to bed at 9:00 and he wakes up at 4:30. Yes, that’s how it worked. The later he went to sleep, the earlier he’d wake up. It makes no logical sense, but that’s how it happened. Sadly, putting him down earlier than 7:30 also made him wake up earlier. We’ve talked with other parents and with his doctor, and we’ve learned this is not uncommon.

So we came to accept and work with his 6:00 a.m. waking time. In the past months, he’s matured enough that he can play in his room quietly in the morning. He’d wake up, put on his clothes, and come to our room to let us know he was awake. We’d tell him he could just play quietly in his room, and he cheerily do so. We’d get another half-hour of rest before he needed breakfast. (Calfgrit9 can easily sleep til 7:00, and later.)

This morning, Calfgrit6 woke up at 5:30, but he was not willing to play quietly in his room; he said he was hungry. We explained to him that we (Mom and Dad) don’t start our day before 6:00, and it was not time for breakfast, yet.

We’ve been through all this before — it’s not “morning” until 6:00, and we don’t fix breakfast before then. We had to set this rule a long time ago to stop him from thinking he could start our day as soon as he first opened his eyes. In the past, he has actually used the “I’m hungry; I need breakfast” call to make us start our day at 4:00 a.m. Once he learned that he couldn’t get us up and started before 6:00, (after we fell for the “I’m hungry” at 4 and 5 a.m. a couple times), he let himself go back to sleep if he woke up real early.

Setting the acceptable get-up time has taken a long while. We had to go through several frustrating early morning arguments, but that’s just how life goes with children. Set the acceptable rules, and then stick to them while the child tests, tests, and tests them to see that you really mean it. But once the child understands the rule is firm, he falls in line.

So, like I said, Calfgrit6 has been doing very well with the 6:00 day start time, for several months. He doesn’t bother getting up before 6:00, and even then he plays quietly in his room till 6:30 to 7:00 each morning. Our mornings have been relatively pleasant for a good while.

But then, this morning. He started saying he was hungry before 6:00. He started fake crying, in a loud, totally melodramatic way. His intention was to not let us ignore him until “morning.” He also knows that he can play us by threatening to wake up Calfgrit9 early — he doesn’t make a direct threat, but he knows we want CG9 to get enough sleep before school.

We have to stick to our rule, though, or else we’ll have to go through this routine every morning instead of just every once in a while when he wants to test our resolve.

Bullgrit