Played Out, Codification, The Case for Quanity over Quality

So: I was planning to catch up to MIK yesterday and could have done so, I think, had it not been for opening night of a certain Off Off (repeat as necessary) Broadway production and my post-theatrical enthusiasm for Vitamin B, the King of Beers. Still, 325 seems nothing to sneeze at, and I deserve style points, I think, for the last 50, which were performed in public and got me much closer to East Fourth Street Bar's floor than I'd ever previously wanted.

And: we've clarified the rules somewhat. Henceforth, the status of "1,000 push ups a day" can only be achieved after a full week of 1,000 push ups a day. That said, for health and safety reasons, we have decided that "a day" should really be interpreted as every other day, meaning "1,000 push ups a day" really connotes a seven-day period in which 4 of the days entail at least 1,000 push ups each.

Finally: I do not speak for MIK here, but I want to be clear. These are not good push ups. Oh, I do my best to keep by back straight, my butt down. But the object here is quanity. Not quality. I'm quite sure a significantly smaller number of push ups, performed slowly and carefully would yield much better muscle definition, superior strength, fewer injuries, etc. All beside the point. The object here is to do a strange, difficult thing that's a little bit stupid. Proper technique is only an issue when it allows the particpant to achieve a greater number of push ups. Everyone clear on this?

MiddleInitialK's Sensei is not named Splinter

There's no backing out now.

As I understand it, in this day and age, signaling one's commitment to something via the pixels of a blog is tantamount to a covenant with God. And so it is in anticipation of Atlas' shoulder cramps that I hereby proclaim: by the end of the summer we'll be doing 1,000 push ups a day.

This began with MiddleInitialK's casual retelling of his Judo sensei's casual remark: "If you do 1,000 push ups in a day, you're in good shape." Bear in mind MIK paid as many as forty dollars for the privilege of this man's attention and wisdom over the course of a semester. As I saw it then and still see it now, it is not for us to question a man deemed fit (deemed, mind you, by an athletic department slathered in majestic purple) to direct people how best to fall down on gym mats.

And so our journey of self-exploration begins. MIK's already up to 250, while I have inched up to 120. But think not that our paltry efforts doom us to failure, for we have been joined by another, my cousin, for whom I haven't yet thought of a clever name. He'll probably be Zoyashi G.

Come back for regularly updated pictures of our guns.