We Can’t Stop the Fire!…Though it’s always burnin’… Always

God. We are so sexy. The Tracy has completely taken over our bodies. The other day we were staring in front of the mirror, admiring our sweet triceps, when all of a sudden, our shirts just started shredding a part. Jenny Menke – We now understand how you feel when your shirts rip… This is going to be a pricey adventure. Already we have had to buy new pants. Another change we have noticed is we no longer are affected by the elements of winter and negative temperatures. This power is so great, that we now can ride our bobsled to the gym. Parking has become a problem, but no one wants to mess with thighs like ours.

As amazing as The Tracy is, there is one element that we have found to be quite awkward: The “Seated Calf Raise.” Have you ever seen someone perform this exercise? If not, let us give you a visual. Imagine one sitting on an engorged bouncy ball. Got it? Ok. Now, add weight on top of their 90º bent knees. And here’s the kicker… the movement is an up and down, gyrating, back and forth, over and over again, motion that you cannot help but feel observed. On top of all of this, we still can’t feel the burn. Our pretend yells are only for our viewers. Even after doing 200 of these, nothing seems to have been accomplished. Any suggestion on how we could enhance or fix the burn from this exercise would be greatly appreciated. Please leave your comments.

The highlight of the week was when we were asked to do the breakdown for the Hamline football team. Let us describe this event for you. While in the middle of performing our fourth set of the DB French Press, a bunch of big burly men began to gather around us. At first, we thought it was because we were lifting more than both of our weights combined (which… is a LOT), but when they began to chant “Tracy!” we realized they wanted more. And don’t you worry, we gave them more. As one large lineman stepped forward, we thought he was about to challenge us. Veggie stood up and raised her dumbbell at the man, while MoJo felt the need to step in between them. Instead of a “lift off,” he said, “Ladies of the night, would you please honor us by breaking us down?” We were speechless. Of course, we said yes. We proceeded to the middle of the pack, ordered everyone to put their hands in, and said “It’s always burning boys. Tracy on three… 1…2…3…TRACY!” They all left in jubilation.

May the force be with you,

MoJo and Veg

Next Time? No, never.

The invitation sounded like a joke. Lift weights with two girls? No way. I’m a man, a strong, manly man. Well not really strong, but I’m a man, the last time I checked (which was this morning). But it was a request from my girlfriend, the beautiful, compassionate Veggie (don’t laugh, she is sometimes, that one time anyway). Much like the Godfather, it was an offer I couldn’t refuse.

We get to the gym, and every guy looks straight out of a men’s health issue. Biceps as far as the eye can see, triceps threatening the laws of nature. We get to the first workout, the pin pull deadlift. After watching Mojo storm through the workout like a Greek goddess, it was my turn. Much like the rest of the workouts, I failed in comparison. Whether it was Veggie doing chin-ups like a 30-year Marine veteran or Mojo powering through the ab workouts, it was clear; I was overmatched.

So here I sit, summoning all the strength I can in what I embarrassingly call my muscles to type this guest blog. I will now proceed to attempt and make my favorite dish; tuna casserole. If I am not heard from in the next 48 hours, assume I died of one of the following: 1) massive fatigue, 2) coronary failure or most likely 3) shame.

That is all.

Max

*Thank you Max – for that thoughtful and heartwarming addition to our blog. It has been honoring to have guests attend our weekly workouts. We have graciously allowed other “all-stars” to join us in our epic quest of greatness. Gill was the first elder to come and embark with us. She helped abundantly with her vast knowledge and wisdom about the mechanics of barbells and chin-ups. Thank you, Lord, for the invention of the rubber band. We’d like to give Gill a shout-out and a gold star for her gracious assistance – YA GILL. It is also important that we note when people stand us up. We will never name names (Chobot), but we will also never forget. This is a warning for ALL OF YOU who may someday gain an invitation to do The Tracy. As of right now, we are pretty booked (Prince is on the list), but give us your name and we will try to pencil you in.

Tata for now,
MoJo and Veg

Please, don’t release yet…

Due to the holiday break and copious amounts of smoked ham and mashed potato sandwiches, we have had to delay our weekly muscle postings. Week one was a wintery hell. Each morning we woke up to our screaming muscles and tiny people kicking us in the shins. To top it off, we would receive text messages saying “Tracy %$@#!” from each other. For those who have never been to Hamline around six o’clock, it is not uncommon to hear agonizing screams of “TRACY!” echoing through the weight room and down the halls as we attempt to finish a hard set.
We’ve done it all *Cheerleader split kick in jubilation*!!!!! After two weeks, we have begun to sculpt our upper body, abs, legs, and even our toes. We have learned much about our bodies. First of all, there are many muscles that we never knew existed, but now that we do, we will find much use for them *;)* (if you know what I mean). We have also learned that no matter how many times we say “bro”, “dude”, or wear our hats “cocked” and backwards with shorts down to our slender calves, we will never have the body of the lovely meat head hockey player on the bench next to us.
We also feel that we have been short changed, by none other than the Tracy herself. Here is a list of items and knowledge that we think the Tracy should have passed on (we are still willing to accept these items… you can send them as a wrapped parcel to either of us):

1. A nice pair of gloves (we have been experiencing slippage)
2. A sweet, sweat bandana (our hair likes to get in our eyes… then we run into things)
3. A water mister (we tend to overheat and think we would look sexier as we lift the rods)
4. A booty-bumping finishing song as we pump out that last set (let’s face it, silence never helped anyone)
5. A bloody steak waiting for us when we arrive home (damn, we get hungry from all this work)

Until next week… stay strong!!!
Mojo and Veggie

Introduction

Our bodies before our journey began...

As we sit here, arms shaking uncontrollably, we ponder what led us to this monumental moment in our rugby filled lives. It could have been the fact that standing next to our other teammates, our legs and arms looked like wet spaghetti, or that as we attempt to perform a beautiful dump tackle we actually end up flying 20 feet backwards as our opponent looks down upon us. Wondering aimlessly through the rugby community, we one day stumbled upon a majestic bobsledder, with legs like a polar bear, arms of an oak tree, eyes that cut through ice, and purity of a unicorn. For those who have never felt this feeling or do not know who we speak of, it is the impressive being of Tracy Call. After our first season with Tracy, we decided to heed the call and do what we call “The Tracy”. We are way in over our heads… but we visualize that someday we will have her breathtaking arms and awe-inspiring legs. So come along on our journey of pain, as we begin to grow our own set of monster muscles.


Mojo and Veggie