JOLIET JERRY'S DORM ROOM

It is a couple days past the end of my second week in DC Training. The week has had it's challenges from a training stand-point. As my great friend Jeremy posted in the forum, my father passed away early Monday morning. More on that later. Anyway, and a lot of you will probably judge me poorly for this, but I didn't miss any training during this time. I did my weight training on Monday and Wednesday and got my cardio in on Tuesday and Thursday. My weight training went very well this week. Since there are six basic workouts with the DC program, Wednesday of this week was the first time I actually repeated a workout. I am happy to say that I had nice increases in either weight or reps on every single exercise. This was an upper body workout (chest, shoulders, triceps, back width, back thickness) day. Since all my weights or reps went up, that means I keep the same exercises the next time this workout comes around and go for another increase. I love the challenge this brings and yes, it is intense as hell and downright painful at times. But I do love competition, and since competitive bodybuilding is not in the cards for me and I am not nearly strong enough to be a powerlifter, my battle with the log book satisfies that need. It's an interesting thing when I am very proud of a workout well done and I sit down to type up my update e-mail to Doug. I send it to him filled with pride and satisfaction, then he responds by writing after each entry, "UP THE WEIGHT NEXT TIME" or "KEEP WEIGHT, PUSH FOR 20 REPS". LOL...it's a nice little dose of reality and keeps me from getting complacent. This week is also going to be an interesting one because it is the first week with two leg days. I trained legs on Monday and will be hitting them again later today (Friday). It will be a repeat of workout #2 today, which includes squats, so I am excited about that. Hopefully, I will be able to walk when it's all over.

Diet this week has not been easy. I did okay on Monday and Tuesday because there was a lot of down time. Wednesday and Thursday were the wake and funeral and it was really hard to eat right. I did the best I could and figure I can be forgiven for straying on these two days. I am back on track as of today and will eat clean with no cheats for the next couple weeks to make up for it. I am finding it fairly easy to eat the volume of food required. These workouts really sap my energy and I am really tired and sleepy within a couple hours afterwards. So I can really see the need for the excess calories and I am sure they are put to good use. Soreness has been ever-present, but seems to get better within two days and is usually about gone by the time I get around to that particular body part again.

Finally, I want to thank all that have extended their sympathy to me for the loss of my father. My dad was a great man. Not in the sense that we often think of greatness. He wasn't a superstar athlete. He wasn't a wildly successful business man. He was a bit of a war hero, though he would never talk much about it. I gathered it all from reading letters he had written to my mother, pictures, and momentos he brought home with him. He served his stretch in Korea in '51 and '52 in an engineering unit...they built roads and bridges in strategic areas where they didn't exist. Places where there were plans for pending offensives. Obviously, the enemy had a vested interest in not allowing those things to be constructed. He often marveled about year long road construction projects in Chicago and would say, "We built a 3/4 mile long bridge over a river in Korea in the middle of winter while we were getting shot at and finished it in a month."

What really made my dad great was the way he lived his life. He was born a child of the depression in 1926 to a very poor family in Dubuque, Iowa. He spent his fall and winter in school and his summers doing grown man's work on his uncle's farm. In exchange for his labors, and that of his two brothers, his uncle made sure the family was fed during the winter months. He moved to Chicago during his teen years where he attended Catholic school and at the urging of the priests, went off to seminary in California. He finished his seminary training and was weeks away from being ordained as a Catholic priest when he realized that the calling was not for him. He moved back to Chicago, met my mother, married her on Dec 9, 1951 and left for Korea on Dec 12. He was 26 years old when he volunteered to go to Korea.

Growing up we didn't have a lot, but we never wanted a single thing...ever. If we did, my dad found a way to give it to us. I was the last of four kids and he was 42 when I was born. This isn't a big deal now, but in 1968 it was all but unheard of to have kids at that age. He wasn't the little league coach, drive the kids to school type father. He was stoic, hard working, and a true family man in the sense that his greatest need was always second to the slightest want of anyone else in his family. He spent his career as a Distribution Center Manager for Quaker Oats in Chicago. As a young man, I had the good fortune to work for my dad for a few years and I got to know him in ways that I never would have otherwise and I am thankful for that opportunity.

Through all my sorrow and sadness there is much to be happy about in dad's passing. He turned 81 in October, meaning I had more time with him than most people get to enjoy with their parents. My kids, ages 15 and 13 got to know their grandfather well enough and long enough that they will have happy memories of him throughout the rest of their lives. They say the way you die says a lot about the way you lived. Dad was fine on Sunday, went to bed, fell asleep, and passed quietly in the night. A peaceful and dignified death, which is very fitting for the man. He never wanted the life he had the past few years as he suffered the torments of Alzheimer's disease. He had told me that many times and knowing how much he would have hated what he became made those years even more difficult. As cold as it sounds, my dad died several years ago and the time since then has been one long, painful wake. He is now at peace and for that I thank God.

There was a line I heard one time, in a movie I think but I don't really remember where it came from. "After what you have been through, when you die and they tell you that you have to do your time in purgatory, you can turn, smile, and say, "No thanks, I've done mine". If this ever applied to anyone, it applies to my father. I love you dad...I never told you that enough, and I will miss you every day.

Jerry