GLBT Health

Sun, 03 Jun 2007 06:11:11 -0400

5 smart ways to gain muscle!

1. Less is more!
Limit your cardio and do no more than 20 sets per muscle group. Your reps should be between six and 12 per set for maximum muscle growth, and your workouts shouldn’t last longer than 45 minutes. Use heavier weights and move through each rep at a controlled speed.

2. You are what you eat.
Read food labels to get a sense of how many calories you’re already eating. Got it? Good. Now add 500 to that number and start eating that many calories every day – with care to nutritional value.

3. Mix it up a bit.
Every four to six weeks, change some part of your fitness routine, whether it’s the number of reps you do, the amount of time you rest, the exercises you perform, or any other training variable. Keep a journal of your workouts and changes to record your progress and see results!

4. Nutrition
Infuse your workout with nutrition, starting with a high protein- and-carbohydrate meal about an hour beforehand. Mix up a protein shake and sip that throughout your workout. Afterward, finish the drink or mix a new one and drink that quickly. Believe it or not, whole foods are not the best option after a workout because they take too long to digest.

5. Less stress, more rest!
Train no more than four times a week and get plenty of sleep! Also be sure to avoid excess stress at your job (chronic nervousness elevates “cortisol”, a hormone that makes your body store fat and burn muscle.) By practicing healthy habits in your life outside the gym, the work you do during your training will have much stronger results!

Will Washington @ Keller Williams

Thu, 31 May 2007 01:56:57 -0400

Will Washington

Generation Y

Thu, 31 May 2007 01:50:30 -0400

Generation Y

Art

Thu, 31 May 2007 01:21:12 -0400

GAY PRIDE VIRGINIA WANTS TO SEE YOUR CREATIVE SIDE!Send your original poetry/short stories/photography/artwork to Chris at press@gaypridevirginia.org by email with your attachment(s) and we will post a select number of entries on our site (based on content, theme and GPV submission guidelines). Check this page frequently for updates and occasional contests!

(Note: Entries must be original, non-published work - all rights owned must be that of the author. Please include your name/title of your submission for credit. Please submit any photos of artwork in jpeg or PDF format. If you would like to have your submission removed from the site, simply contact the webmaster. When submitting your work, please understand that the entry will be published on the internet as an original work/self-owned .)

Poetry

Loving you…

It’s cold outside and the radio is turned on to some indistinct channel

With static seeping through...

You’re out and I’m wrapped in a quilt that your mother made,

Sitting by the window as if I’m waiting for your return but don’t quite know it.

I’m falling in love but don’t really know how to show it.

I’ve talked around the words,

Cursed and reversed them,

Blown them into your face like cigarette smoke…

Warm whispers when I was sure you were asleep…

Deep, but aimless conversations over green tea on your patio.

Your kiss always just one touch away…

I’ve fallen but can’t find the words to say…

In a card?

In a dozen generic red roses I paid too much for?

Perhaps in a poem.

- Bryan Mayfield, Richmond, VA

Switch.

He’s one of those fast talking, sugar-sweet-walking pretty boys with

stars for eyes and a smile that speaks for itself.

You know the type.

A reputation abundant in health, full of …

“Gurl, guess what I heard…” and “that’s a damn shame” whispers and giggles within earshot.

But he just laughs and kicks up his heels, happy to be “revealed” for what everyone swears is “the real him”.

It’s unsettling at best but he’s not the least restless, worrying about what those critics have to say.

“Bollocks, to them,” he says…

He sweats under stage lights, dwelling aimlessly in the spotlight…

where his days bleed into night – and he suddenly finds the sun a somber blue pendant, hung in the sky from wires, as if its lost the way.

One party bleeds into the next until he’s spending his downtime in oversized designer shades, bent over mediocre reviews as he drinks his Avian at an undisclosed crowded sidewalk café.

“Isn’t that…?”

He looks away and pretends to not hear the rumors and lies that his dynasty rests on.

He’s all smiles for the camera and adds an extra switch in his step while strolling the red carpet.

The media mongrels are puppets with their strings twisted around his fingers…

The fashion houses are vampires... Banging down his door, only to strip him bare and dress him up in razor sharp couture and more pretty, red lies.

He’s numb to it all…

A victim to it all, but he loves playing the part…

Loves not taking it to heart and being everything they said he couldn’t possibly achieve.

He loves that they love to hate him…

Loves how they try to label him …

Loves how they repeatedly mistake him … for someone that cares.

- Christopher Murphy, Richmond Virginia

Magician
Nicholas says it doesn’t come easy,

With a smile so dim that I’m squinting to see.

And it wouldn’t hurt to laugh a little

Like the child that you are

When I’m holding your hand and rubbing the back of your neck with cold hands

That use to feel like magic.

And he does what he does …

Makes it look so easy.

With clammy hands, tied behind his back, and a blindfolded smile

Upside down.

And I try to just be,

I try to break free

to figure out his illusion

But it’s all just my eyes … playing tricks on me.

- Christopher Lovell Murphy, Richmond VA

Don't Assume

Don't assume one thing when indeed it's another
I do not find validation from strangers under covers

I don't need to fuck you to validate that the jeans I slipped into the night before, still make my ass look slim after a night crumpled on your floor

Guided by fear you sacrifice your power, drink after drink, more afraid with each passing hour

Who will quench your fire crotch?

What man will be there to affirm that you have value?

Your man, not by your side, you without the self esteem to let one night slide, without knowing that someone, somewhere will turn your body into a cum rag.

How much liquor will it take to ease the fight

Did you remember to douche your ass tonight?

Slip into that attitude that hides your face

Stumble through the night on display, feigning grace

Your instincts spot on

They do see thru you

They are not sage

They are not wise

They are sharing in the same experience of development

After puberty sexual validation becomes universally relevant

You are as unique as your Polo shirt and Gucci shoes

Size up the flock to find that piece of ass most coveted by the rest of the cocks, then make your play to be the biggest dick of the night

You have understudied to be both a frat boy and a sorority girl depending on whether you want to top or bottom, struggling to remember the lines, while you smoke em' only if he's got em'

Layin down and knocking back, liquid lubrication, not for your dick but for your soul, setting the stage for your inevitable "get out of jail free card"

"Girl, do you know how much I drank last night", should be quick text in your cell phone

Booze never creates, only lubricates

Flavored liquor and Jager make no promises to make a drunk a saint or create virtue in a black hole

With so many crutches how do you walk?

However you play it keep walking past me

I feel your need to be fulfilled and I smell you rotting from the inside

I do not need you on my arm or on my dick

I am not impressed by your charm or your overwhelming need to know the dimensions of a new prick

I don't care about the price points of your shirt or your pants

Expect my reaction to be lack luster, I will not add to your dysfunction with sycophantic rants.

I am just as happy to wake up with my pussy, cat that is, as with a man whose last name I CAN remember

The shell of the memory from the night before, bleary eyed, dazed, marinated in cigarette smoke and soaked in stale booze, does nothing to arouse my desire for a morning shag

Pack up your labels, your over-waxed eyebrows, and low esteem

I'll stay behind to close out your tab with my friends, my confidence, and my desire for more than you can offer

- David R., Richmond, VA

A girl’s song

She blows bittersweet strawberry kisses

sprung from secret wishes that flood her mind,

as she tries to be all that I need of her.

Her hair is golden silk thread that twirls and tangles itself

in her delicate fingers

Her breathe is warm on my neck like a familiar wind

or the voice of an old lover.

She’s dropped by again, like she does when she misses me.

She holds me tight and kisses me

with lips I use to know…

and a song in her voice that tells me it can work.

This time.

Not like the last time or the time before that.

Or the time before that…

And so I allow myself to be seduced by her lyrics…

to fall again for her hysterics - because this is who we are

And this is what we do…

And maybe this time… the tune will change.

- Kari, Richmond VA

a little bit stronger

He comes and goes like oceans rising and melting on the shore.

He’s a force to be reckoned with when the sun hits his back, the sky scorches his silhouette - and I strain to see his despondent eyes glaring down at me from my seat on the crowded beach.

This is supposed to be our day out.

I packed a lunch, brought enough sunblock to drown in and fought the mosquitoes that bit back through the thick, salty air.

Cursing like a sailor.

It’s humid as hell and my skin is a rich butter bronze, warm-to-the-touch hue that seems to belong in a Crayola box. Beach-burnt Gold, the label might exclaim.

My swimsuit is new and dry as I situate myself and make a blanket out of sand and bits of broken seashells and glass.

He tries to convince me that the water is perfect but it looks like ice from where I’m sitting.

I’m being difficult but he loves this about me.

The water hits the rocks behind him like fireworks and I bathe in the afterglow.

We make castles out of the clouds and dungeons in the sand, full of watery moats and treacherous turns we’re careful not to slip into.

I finish reading my favorite book again as he watches the freckles color my shoulders and my farmer’s tan fade in the sun’s embrace.

His own skin is brown and red and copper remnants fused into one glowing tapestry of color.

His neck is a shade darker than before.

Our love is just a little bit stronger than before as we pack the car to go back to our everyday grind.

I find sand in his hair later that night as we unwind and count the stars from our bed that we’re grateful to finally fall into.

The raspy call of the ocean still plays in the back of my mind as my eyes become weighted with sleep.

I pull him tighter to me…

and wait for a wave to wash us away.

-Christopher Murphy, Richmond VA

Sound Off!

Thu, 24 May 2007 11:17:09 -0400

Sound off!

GPV wants to hear from YOU! Write in to tell us: What you are most looking forward to at this year’s Pride Festival on 9/29! Seeing Coco Peru? Enjoying our musical guests? Write in and tell us what you think! Please be sure to include your name and where you’re from. (Ex. Rob, Richmond VA) and we will post your best answers on the site!

Seeing old friends and Coco Per in person. She’s hilarious!

-martin, Richmond Virginia

lots of cuties walking around!

-Daniel R., Midlothian

Have a topic you’d like to see discussed? Let us know now!

GPV Circuit | Gay Pride Virginia

GLBT Health

Will Washington @ Keller Williams

Generation Y

Art

Sound Off!