There is a lot going on in my life in real time that seems to go back to the same theme. Make a decision and stick with it. Pick one and stick with it. And if you are one of the many who has been up in my grill this week, trust me, you’re one of many, this ain’t personal. It’s a theme.
I’m working on a new marketing plan with the other agent that works for my broker. We decided to do this last year and then got ridiculously busy. Now we’re moving forward. My partner in crime had been telling me about a program that they used at her previous employer and how she wanted to implement it. We couldn’t get it together last year and I decided to just move forward for the sake of my business. The problem was there are 8 million books out there on how to sell real estate. It’s just like diets. It’s a whole industry selling those books. Because I’m a cantankerous old school type, I picked an older more proven book. I think it’s in it’s 20th printing or something. I’ve read through it and I’m implementing it. My Partner in Crime called a few weeks ago and said let’s sit down and implement this. We sat down and I had an idea of what I wanted to do. As it turns out, her old office was using the exact same program. It cut our ramp up time in half by being accidentally on the same page. But the point is, out of the 8 million books out there, most of them work. If you do them. They don’t work if you just read them and go do what you’ve always done. We’ve got a third gal involved who has also implemented this program before but she doesn’t want to sell, she wants to project manage. When we start rolling, she gets a taste. That works for me. It’s a very exciting time, but the real lesson is to pick one. Any one. Just pick one.
On the subject of health and weight loss I make no bones about my preference for Body for Life. It works. But you have to do it. It does work if you just read the book, you actually have to do what the book says to do and then it works. And then you have to stick with it. But we don’t want to. The entire weight loss industry counts on no one having any follow through. If we ran out and bought one book and all got healthy, what would the other 7 million authors do for a living? Same with the real estate books. If we all went out, bought one and became millionaires what would that do to the industry? I picked Body for Life.
Speaking of industries relying on our lack of follow through, it’s time to tee off on my gym. Asshats. We all know that I have numerous Powerlifting records. Just in case you don’t quite understand what that means, I hold over 30 records in different weight classes and age classes in different organizations. Using a Wilkes formula, I’ve been top twenty in the country several times and top ten sometimes. I’m badass. To be that badass you need to get your bad self to the gym. When I moved up to The Farm I left Bally’s which was near my last house but had undergone two bankrupcies in the short seven years that I worked out there. I tried out the gym at the end of the street. At the time it was called Mavericks. They guy who ran it was a train wreck in his own right. In the year that I belonged the whirlpool never worked a single day. The sauna occasionally worked and the steam room was largely non-functional. About half of the toilets flushed and no one dared shower there. But the weight room was well laid out and they played decent music. It was also the last place where independent trainers could work. Those guys were hard core and got their people into shape. And there weren’t a lot of rules. It was sort clean but not really. You could smell the mold in the ladies locker room. But I could lift like a big dog and that made me happy.
Last year the club was purchased by a big conglomerate. A bunch of wankers really. They promised us nothing but upgrades. Well, it’s a year later and they’re almost done, but in the last year we have endured months of cement dust, drywall dust and chemical fumes. Every morning for the last three months it has been a treasure hunt to find the equipment. Some stuff was stored on half of the basketball court for months. Yet, by the end of the year they pretty much finished off most of the main lifting areas and it was pretty nice. They put in a cardio theatre upstairs and it was pretty nice too. They built a new ladies locker room and if they’d clean it that would be nice too. But that’s not what today’s story is about. Of course my buddies are all the lunkheads who go heavy. We bench big bars with big loads. And the boys are all my pals. One guy I found out lives around the corner and has a 5 month old Doberman puppy. This little pointy earred devil is adorable. How do I know where he lives? He saw me walking by and came running out of his house to say hello. That’s the kind of guys who lift there.
Last week, some of the ladies who are working on their New Years Resolutions, if you can’t hear the contempt in my tone, you should, it’s there, came down to the front desk and complained about one of the boys making too much noise. He was deadlifting. He was grunting like someone going heavy would, and it made a bunch of noise when the plates hit the ground. Well, duh. Lord knows I make a ton of noise deadlifting 225 for reps. It’s noisy, but it’s a freaking gym fergodsakes. Nope, my mistake. It’s now a “health club”. What this means is that the corporation doesn’t give a crap if anyone actually gets healthy or not. What they care about is sending the newbies to “miseryville”, which is a place that their sales staff is taught to evoke for the purpose of selling memberships and nothing else. Miseryville is a place where all your problems and lack of health are stacked up like lumber. Then the helpful sales person offers the solution to all these problems, it’s a membership to this club. Voila! Just like the airlines, they oversell the space knowing that by Valentine’s Day all of the New Years Resolutioners will be gone and all that will be left is a fraction of those that they sold earlier in the year. Their business model depends on it. I was very clear when I re-upped. I am a Powerlifter. I am a world record holder. As a matter of fact that trophy sitting over there is mine. And I do not suffer fools lightly. Take me to miseryville and I will cut out your heart with a dull blade and feed it to my dog. That’s great they chirped.
It’s now a year later, and I’m hearing that the edict has come down that this is not a place to do Olympic style lifts. I’m just wondering when the little piece of fluff comes down and tells me I can’t go heavy….what kind of medical procedure will be used to remove that 225lb barbell from her ass?
Did you really just read all of that? Well then you deserve a dog picture. Rita sleeps like this. I think it’s so she can’t hear the screaming of the lambs.