Good evening, friends and neighbors.
My name is Matt. I am the Black Hat Baker, and I dress like a Vanaran Monk when I exercise now.
Stand by for nerdiness.
Good evening, friends and neighbors.
My name is Matt. I am the Black Hat Baker, and I dress like a Vanaran Monk when I exercise now.
Stand by for nerdiness.
Good evening, friends and neighbors!
One of my favorite stories about dealing with the realities of life comes from Buddhism. A young man once approached the Buddha as he was teaching and asked, “Please grant me wisdom that is truly transcendent- that holds true throughout all ages, all teachers, all places in the cosmos.”
The Buddha’s answer was a smile and the phrase, “Sesame flatbread.”
The reason I like this story is that it truly does cut to the heart of things- beyond morality, convenience, and creed, is the simple wisdom of biology: when you are hungry, eat. When you are tired, sleep. When you are thirsty, drink. It really is that simple.
The “how” of it, however… that’s another story.
Hello, friends and neighbors!
The other day, I was making a supersized batch of Zucchini Bread batter at work- and in so doing, I did a 117 lbs (53 kg) deadlift from floor to chest.
Not a problem, I do it all the time.
THAT’S how you stay in shape working at a bakery- you WORK at a bakery.
I’ve mentioned before that I use a 50 lbs. (22.67 kg) sandbag for exercising at home, and that the motivation for this came directly from wanting to be a baker, but I don’t believe I ever went into any real specifics about it.
So here we go: presenting,
Otherwise known as, “I Pick Up Heavy Things and Put Them Down, but I can bake bread with them too when I’m done.”
The thing that makes using a sandbag different from barbells or dumbbells is the fact that the sand will slosh and shift as it moves. The bag also doesn’t have any handles- thus as you manipulate the bag, you will have to constantly use accessory muscle groups and reaffirm your grip in order to keep control of the bag.
Curls are good. Yes, they are infamous for “gymbros” doing them in the squat rack. Working out your biceps in the bakeshop, however, helps you get that mixing bowl off the machine and on to your table. It also helps you make mousse and meringues by hand- those take a LOT of whipping….
Stand up straight, core tensed, feet shoulder-width apart. With a firm grip on the bag, just curl your arms and hoist the bag up to your chin. Return under control- DO NOT just relax your arms and let your elbows snap straight. You WILL injure yourself.
Yeah, if you’ve got bad knees in a bakeshop, you are REALLY screwed. Half my day is spent squatting or kneeling, with or without weight, to put things in a low oven, grab that giant jug of oil, fetch up 5 dozen eggs, and so on.
You want to EAT chicken legs in a kitchen, not HAVE them.
For both of these exercises, the keys are to keep your core tense, flex at the knees and hips, and never let your knees go past your toes- doing this prevents your ankles from taking the brunt of the weight.
While it’s generally not smart to store heavy objects higher than head-level- you tend to put things where they will fit. If you look at the rack behind me, some of those boxes up top weigh up to 30 lbs. It’s good to know your arms and shoulders won’t give out on you when you need to get a new crate of chocolate chips down.
With your core tensed and your feet shoulder-width apart, bring the bag up to your chest and raise over your head slowly, to your full range of motion. After a moment, bring the bag back down slowly and repeat.
There you go! With a sack of flour providing strength training, simply being on your feet for 10 hours a day offering cardio, and intelligent eating, this is how you can work in a bakeshop and stay fit.
Best of luck, and
Stay Classy,
Here’s the story of how I learned to keep $50 a month in my pocket and still stay fit.
Good evening, friends and neighbors. It’s been a while.
5:15 AM
My alarm goes off by my side of the bed. It’s still dark in the room.- not even a hint of the dawn coming in about 2 hours. I know Emily has probably only been in bed a few hours (night owl that she is,) so I jerk myself conscious enough to silence the alarm quickly before it can bother her.
My phone alarm acts as a dim nightlight, so I can just barely make her out next to me. Streetlights and headlights glow indirectly through the tiny ceiling window- enough for me to grab my phone, check the weather forecast for the morning, buzz through Facebook, curse myself for doing so, and get up.
I don’t have to be into work till 9, but I insist on arriving no later than 8:45. I want time to make breakfast and clean up-
after a workout of course.
This was not always me.
4 years ago, this was me.