Cruising Recap

I am back from a week long cruise visiting ports in Mexico, Belize and Honduras. That is the reason why last week’s column was posted on Saturday night instead of Wednesday morning as scheduled. I had originally meant for the column to auto-post on Wednesday but, evidently, my computer skills are even worse than I thought.

On the cruise, I had every intention of continuing both my strength training and throwing regimen (albeit to a lesser degree) while soaking up some much needed UV rays. That plan fell apart in grand fashion on the second day. 

I went to the ship’s gym expecting a facility that, while not allowing me to train at the same intensity I’m used to, would at least let me maintain what I had and hit the ground running once I returned to the cold and dreary confines of Canada.

I figured that a ship the size of two football fields, that could best be described as a floating palace, would at least have the necessary equipment to create semi-challenging Crossfit workouts. Surely there was enough money in the $500 million plus budget to include some barbells and bumper plates.

Wrong.

The gym was a disaster. Just cardio equipment and isolation exercise machines as far as the eye could see. Not one barbell in the entire facility. There were dumbbells that were capped in weight at 50lbs. Any hope I had in incorporating dumbbells into a makeshift workout was lost when I realized the ceiling was only seven feet high, which meant there was no chance of lifting anything overhead (an integral component to any dumbbell workout).

Worst of all, there was no place to do pullups (a blasphemy that will not soon be forgotten).  I approached the Australian meathead manning the counter and bemoaned the lack of equipment. I asked him if there was somewhere else I could train and take the dumbbells with me. The Crocodile Hunter fixed me with an incredulous stare, theatrically rolling his eyes, and said, “Just substitute, mate. It’s only a week.”

Yes, while a week of shitty exercises may not matter when you’re shoving a mouthful of steroids down your gullet every day like my Australian friend, I can’t afford to go a week without training right now. This dream is too important.

What did I do? I improvised. I got in one great workout early on in the trip; it involved a mile run around the track near the top of the ship broken up by descending sets of squats, pushups, situps, and handstand pushups. I also ran through the Honduran beachfront at the end of the trip (I can’t think of a better way to explore a new country).

The rest of my training on the ship involved at least 100 pushups every day, pullups off of every structure I could find, impromptu sets of handstand pushups in front of gawking onlookers and a plethora of dips in between two metal tables in the dance club (don’t ask, but yes there was alcohol involved).

I threw the ball twice; once on the beach in Cozumel, Mexico and then again in Costa Maya, Mexico. The first session was long toss and I was not happy with it at all. The distance was pathetic (I didn’t even bother pacing it out) and my mechanics were all over the place; partly due to inactivity, as the previous week’s indoor session was cancelled, and also the sand was much too deep to find a consistent release point.

The second session was capped at 100 feet, but took place on thin, finely packed sand which made it much easier to maintain my delivery. I didn’t push the velocity at all, but was very happy with how everything felt and I’m definitely looking forward to getting back indoors and letting it fly.

Since I knew I wasn’t going to make any gains in terms of strength or throwing on my vacation, I figured I would focus all of my energy into reaching my goal of a 200lb body weight.

Luckily, the nutritional setup on a cruise ship is perfect for achieving gastronomical excess. The food offered on the ship was free and there were no limits to how much food one could order during a meal. Not only that, but the offerings were, without hyperbole, the most delicious things I have ever eaten. Everything was prepared using only the freshest ingredients and the best cuts of meat.

Each morning, I began my day with anywhere from four to six eggs and at least the part of one animal in either bacon or sausage form. For lunch I ended up eating enough pastrami on rye sandwiches to start my own delicatessen in the Bronx.

However, I saved my best work for dinner. Every night I ate 2-3 appetizers, then at least two main courses, which were followed up with some of the tastiest desserts I’ve ever sampled (and I’m not even a dessert fan). The waiter just marvelled at the size of my meals and I’m fairly certain he needed a few extra sheets of paper to jot down all of my requests.

By the end of the trip I’m confident I could have beaten Kobayashi in a shrimp-eating competition. I may have single-handedly kept the Gulf seafood industry alive with my weeklong binge.

How did the scale look at the end of the cruise? 193lbs. Up three more pounds in just seven days, which is pretty good considering I wasn’t able to lift any heavy weights to turn those extra calories into dense muscle.

Plus, I have a number of gorge-tastic Christmas dinners coming up in the next few days to hopefully add a couple more lbs to my frame.

Have a Merry Christmas!

I’ll be back next Wednesday with some updates about the logistics of this journey.