How to Gain 10 Pounds in 4 Weeks

I love getting in shape.  I love being in shape too, but even more fun is getting in shape.  I love staring down at the ground as I fight to take each step running up a mountain, yelling in agony as the sweat drips from my eyebrows.  I love that feeling of fatigue after a good arm workout when I have trouble lifting my water bottle to my mouth.  And I really love looking at my watch and discovering that I just beat my record time, or pushing out ten more pounds on a set of squats than I had the previous workout. 

In the past four weeks I have gained 10 lbs of muscle and increased my bench press by 30 lbs.  How?  Well thanks for asking, let me tell you. 

1. I worked out with Clark Moser.  Having the right workout partner/trainer might be the most important part of your workout because if you choose right they will keep you accountable, provide the right workout routine for your needs, and give nutritional advice.  
2. I did a unique four week program called DTP.  It is important to switch up your routine every once in a while in order to maintain progress.  DTP is a high intensity program aimed at gaining muscle.  I highly recommend it as a plateau-demolisher.  Pick a routine that says it will accomplish what you want and just commit to it, the exact routine isn't as important as your consistency.
3. I didn't miss a day.  Getting in shape is all about consistency.  You can't expect to see results from one week.  You have to work it into your daily routine and be content with checking your progress once a month or so. 
4. I ate a lot of protein.  Someone once said getting in shape is 10% working out and 90% diet.  They were wrong, but it is important.  Whether you are trying to gain weight or lose weight you will need to cut out excess sugar and fat and replace it with at least semi-healthy food.  No soda, no chips, no cookies and add a protein shake to your diet.
5. I ran.  No, not the country.  Contrary to popular belief intense cardio will actually help you put on muscle.  It is also the single most important factor in removing fat.  I did an intense half hour run on my non-lifting days. 
6. I measured my progress.  I went from weighing 152 to 162 lbs and my bench press went up from 225 to 255 lbs in four weeks.  I would have never known that if I hadn't measured those things before and after the program.  Seeing progress is the only way to get motivation to stay consistent and measuring your areas of interest (whether it's body weight, minute-per-mile time, or 1 rep max) is the only way to see that progress. 

If you have any questions about health, workout routines, DTP, or Clark Moser feel free to drop me a message.  Thanks for reading! 

P.S.  I am now at $2246 out of the $3700 I need for India.  Thank you so much to everyone who has supported me and to G42 for awarding me the G42 Alumni Grant ($1000).  

Exploring Paris with a Useless Norwegian Coin

My breath dissipated in a little cloud, illuminated by a Parisian streetlight, as I ascended the last few steps to a royal building of some kind that by all accounts really should have had a fountain in front of it.   It's funny how fountains are everywhere until you go looking for one.  I turned around to get my bearings as I rubbed my fingerless gloves together for warmth.  My eyes followed a revolving spotlight high in the night sky until they met the top of the Eiffel Tower and I laughed out loud.  "This is my favorite day so far" I thought to myself.  "Here I am wandering around Paris totally oblivious to the historical landmarks and cultural icons, searching desperately for a fountain just so I can fish out a single Euro."

New Years Eve morning in Central Park

The last sunset of 2013

When I flew home for Christmas I had discovered that I could save hundreds of dollars if instead of returning directly to Spain I flew into Norway first and made my way back from there on buses, trains, and domestic flights, but by the seventh day travelling around Europe I had used every cent of Christmas money and was feeling a bit peckish after accidentally sleeping through the free breakfast at my hostel.  So when I had set out that morning on the Metro I had one mission: free food.  It took me a few hours but I almost met success.  Now, next time you are in Paris and you find yourself at the Eiffel Tower, walk directly north over the bridge that crosses the Seine and just on the other side there is a small street that leads uphill to the Theatre National de Chaillot.  If you head up around 9 PM there will be a little stand on the right side that sells whatever sausages they have left from the day for a Euro a piece.  Best deal in Paris if you happen to own a Euro.  Unfortunately for me, it was just a little out of my price range.    That is how I happened upon the genius idea of searching for a fountain; so many coins just going to waste. 

Westminster Abbey with Big Ben in the background

The changing of the guard in front of Buckingham Palace

I shoved my cold fingers into my pockets and felt the only coin I had left, a Norwegian 20 Krone piece I had found in the change tray of a vending machine; totally useless.  Or maybe not...  A simple idea popped into my head and I headed back down the stairs at a faster pace.  Twenty minutes later I stood in front of the sausage stand and extended my open hand as the man stared sternly at the foreign currency and said something dismissive in French.  I gave him my biggest smile and kept my hand there.  His face slowly softened and finally he burst out in a laugh.  He handed me a sausage and gave my useless Norwegian coin back.  I was ecstatic.  I decided to try it out on the spiced wine stand too.  Two spiced wines, a donut, and a sausage later I sat on top of some French monument looking down at the city of Paris with a full stomach and a useless Norwegian coin.  I thought back on the last seven days, visiting the Opera in Oslo, sleeping at a train station in Manchester, standing on my tiptoes at Buckingham Palace to get a glimpse of the changing of the guard, attending a service at Westminster Abbey, taking the train through the Chunnel, and studying the Mona Lisa in the Louvre.  This was by far my favorite day.  I don't know if it was because I no longer had any decisions to worry about, or because this was a more memorable story, or maybe because  it created a sense of dependence on God, but I felt freer and happier than I had the entire week.  "Merci beaucoup God for life" "and 20 Norwegian Krone pieces."

The Louvre (I happened to be there on the first Sunday of the month - free admission!)

A tunnel of bones in the catacombs - there are literally millions of skeletons

The Eiffel Tower from the other side of the Seine

The Love Lock Bridge with Notre Dame in the background

A view of Paris from the 2,681st step of the Eiffel Tower

PS.  Thank you so much to everyone who has donated for my India mission trip!  Your generosity is staggering.  So far I am at $420 of the $3700 I need.  My visa application is in the mail so please pray that it gets approved and back to me by the end of March.  I am also in the midst of applying for a grant that could potentially provide $500 to $1000 so please pray for that too.  Thanks again!  Love you all,

- Brant 

This Past Semester in One Word

If I had to sum up the last semester of G42 in just one word (thank goodness I don't), I would use the word "hope".  I have always considered myself an optimistic person.  I have prided myself in the past for my ability to focus on the positive, but I never realized how hopeless my world view actually was until last semester. 

From what I had seen of the world, relationships brought pain more often than joy, abuse was the norm not the exception, and death was the only constant in life.  I had always been told that the world was headed down the drain.  "What is this country coming to?" was a redundant question asked by the oldest and wisest people.  I looked forward to heaven because hope for this world was already lost.  The only hope that remained was for Jesus to come back and rescue the few faithful survivors from the devil's stronghold. 

I started to question these beliefs on the World Race.  As I traveled around the world doing missions I got to see how God was working in each country and each ministry.  I saw lives being changed every day, I saw love being multiplied everywhere and it seemed like an unstoppable force.  I began to wonder if maybe the world wasn't doomed.  It kind of seemed like God was present on the earth and things were actually getting better. 

My time at G-42 has taken those questions and solidified them into concrete beliefs.  The book of Hebrews says our faith is the substances of things hoped for.  This is the cornerstone of our faith.  This is what the Gospel, the good news, is all about.  Because of Jesus we can hope for lives of fulfillment, peace, and joy; for radical transformations, for a church against which the gates of Hell will not prevail, for freedom and justice and healing.  Jesus brought the keys to the Kingdom, he defeated the enemy, and on the cross he said "it is finished."  The ancient curse of Adam has been overthrown and the serpent has been crushed.  The church is waking up and people are coming to the light by the millions. 

It's a great time to be a Christian!  Jesus is the constant in the world, he can heal the abuses of the past and there is no need for them to be repeated.  We don't have to wait for heaven to be a part of the Kingdom!  

Happy New Year!

As I sit at a table in front of "Wok and Roll" in the JFK airport the last couple of hours of 2013 slip away.  The year started on the roof of a random apartment complex on an island in Thailand with shrapnel from the surrounding fireworks spraying me in the face.  It was a year of bungee jumps, tropical islands, and long flights; of preaching in prison cells, evangelizing on street corners, and cooking for orphans; of redefining what it means to be Brant Copen, what it means to live life.  The man who stared out over a sea of fireworks with his toes hung over the edge of the 17 story roof is not the same man who now sits staring out over the security checkpoint in terminal 1. 

Dodging the shrapnel in Phuket, Thailand 

Today I probably touched more people than any other day this year as I wandered around New York City; excusing my way through the subway stations, pushing to the front of crosswalks in Times Square, squeezing my shoulder between the tourists in order to get a picture of the ice rink in front of the Rockefeller Building.  However, I was also more alone than any other day (with the lone exception of course of my little hermitage into the Superstition Wilderness).   Yesterday I left my family at the bus station in Ohio in order to travel back to my family in southern Spain; however, it will be a full week before I reach my destination.  Today was the first of several days I will be absent from family and though I enjoyed the excitement today in the frigid city air, most of my thoughts were shadowed with a desire to be sharing the experience with someone close to me. 

The fruit of my hard Asian-shoulder-pushing work

I was not alone on that rooftop in Thailand.  There were fourteen men lined up Oohing and Aahing at the fireworks like seven year olds.  Those men would become as close as brothers throughout the rest of the year and two of them, along with five women who were absent at the time, shared almost every minute of the first seven months of 2013 with me on my World Race team.  They know all my habits, all my moods, all my good and bad qualities, all my over-told stories, and exactly what I'm thinking just by my facial expression.  They cried with me, screamed in terror, laughed until their sides hurt, and listened with empathetic faces.  They are my family and I love and miss them. 

My World Race family with our host family in Masai Land, Kenya

The two months I spent in the States this year was hardly a return to every-day life.  I summitted five mountains in new Hampshire, felt the spray of Niagara Falls in New York, splashed in the waves in Florida, and camped on a volcano in Oregon.  All of my adventures were tag-alongs though; I simply followed friends around the US; catching up, sharing stories, and making new memories in the process.  Though it seemed short, and I didn't get to see even some closest to me, those two months were not just a filler between the World Race and G-42, they were two months of family reunions with people I love and miss.  

Birthday in the Presidential Mountain Range on the annual DHMH

Fittingly, the last three months of 2013 have been spent in the romantic country of Spain.  I have danced in Flamenco clubs, got lost on a last minute road trip to Madrid, spent countless evenings watching brilliant sunsets over the Mediterranean, and had my world view rocked in the classroom.  Once again, every moment was shared with my ever expanding family, this time at G-42.  The icing on this 2013 cake was last week, being able to spend a Christmas at home with my Mom, Dad, and siblings; my blood family.  So this year I have changed a lot and experienced much, but it wasn't the exotic locations or adrenaline-filled events that impacted and molded me the most, it was the relationships with the people with which I experienced them.  The people that pushed me outside of my comfort zone, that challenged my narrow-mindedness, that believed in my dreams, that listened to my stories, that acted as Jesus to me when I needed Him most; my family.  Thank you so much for a life changing year. 

- Love Brant

Christmas with the fam - a rousing game of Capitalism

I Tell You This in Your Own Best Interest...

You sit uncomfortably in the pew and stare at the piece of dirt on the top of your shoe as the pastor assures you there is one more person who needs to raise their hand.  "With all eyes closed and all heads bowed"  Your conscience is screaming at you from within but you don't want to be honest with yourself.  You have a vague idea of the chain of events that might follow you separating your clasped fingers and pushing your right hand through the heavy air within view of the pulpit.  You don't let your mind wander toward a future containing the possibility of telling your family a sudden change of lifestyle, admitting that habit you have been trying to kick, maybe even quitting your job and moving to Africa or something.  You concentrate as hard as you can on absolutely nothing until the altar call is over and you are free.  Subconsciously you make a determination as to what is in your own best interest.  You decide that you will be better off in the long run by ignoring what might be the voice of God at this moment.  We've all done it; the only reason I can describe this situation is because of how many times I've sat in that pew myself. 

The Mediterranean Sea

Whether you are the person who made it through the altar call without giving in or a missionary in Cambodia I want to assure you today that God always has your best interest in mind.  Remember that story about Abraham with his arm raised high holding a dagger ready to plunge it into the heart of his son?  Imagine what he thought the outcome of following God's voice would be in that scenario.  God told him to kill his son.  Not really the kind of command you consider to be in your best interest; or anyone's best interest for that matter.  Abraham had no idea how that could possibly work out for good; it must have seemed that God just hated him for no reason and was asking him to ridiculous things in order to torment him.  He did it though, and what happened?  God stopped his hand at the last second and Abraham became one of the most blessed dads to have ever walked the earth. 

The Mediterranean Sea

Our problem as humans is not that we seek happiness.  Everyone wants to be happy, peaceful, significant, and loved.  That's not the problem, the problem is that we are too finite to know what brings happiness.  We think that one more beer will make us happy, we think those extra hours in the office will lead to happiness, we think if we just ignore God's call and sit quietly in that pew a few more minutes we can build our own safe life and smile as big as the people in the advertisements.  We don't get it.  How could following Jesus possibly be in our best interest?  How could forgiving your sister, loving terrorists, giving away your money, admitting your dark secrets, going to church, or dying to yourself bring you happiness? 

The Mediterranean Sea

My favorite parable in the Bible answers this question.  Jesus said a man was digging in a field and he discovered a buried treasure worth millions.  He immediately quit that job, sold every last possession he owned and purchased the field where he found the treasure.  It wasn't a sacrifice to sell all of his stuff, he never had more fun at any garage sale in his life.  He was making a comparably small investment to get an insanely large return.  The treasure is the kingdom of heaven, it is what God has in store for you, it is what God wants you to take, it is the joy, peace, love, and fun that you want for yourself.  The man's possessions is your life.  Your ambitions, pride, reputation, time, money, your will.  It is not a sacrifice to give that stuff up, it's a tiny investment for a gigantic payoff, and you will find you have never had more fun in your life in the process of hawking it despite what may appear to be persecutions, hardships, and prickly obstacles.  You have to trust that God loves you and knows better what will make you happy than you know. 

The Mediterranean Sea

Sometimes we act like a bird flying into a glass wall trying to get the seeds on the other side.  God is yelling out from above "fly around it, there's a door right there!" as we ram our head again and fall on the ground angry and confused.  We believe, maybe this time lying to my spouse will work, maybe judging that girl will work, maybe rejecting that altar call will work.  We want to be happy we just don't know how.  Good news!  God knows what is best for you, he has a detailed plan to get you there, and he really desperately wants you to take it.  Whether it's your conscience, a Bible verse, or the words of a preacher, you know deep down what God's will is for you.  God loves you way more than you love yourself, and I assure you, if it's from God, it leads to happiness, freedom, and life regardless of how it appears from your perspective at any given moment.  

How Do You Feel about Spain?

I have been in Spain now for a week and a half.  Yesterday evening I sat on my patio overlooking the Mediterranean Sea and wrote down an answer in my little brown notebook to a question my Argentinean Spanish teacher was asking me, "How do you feel about your time in Spain so far?"  Good question.  I placed the tip of my pen on the paper and stared hard at the wood grain of the table.  I thought about this week's guest speaker, the CEO of a successful business in the States, and how after sharing the gritty details of his dreams and story of faith we gathered around and prayed for him, feeling the weight of his 10 year struggle to accomplish something for the Kingdom of God.  I thought about the church I had attended on Sunday and how I could feel God's presence despite understanding about 3% of the worship song lyrics.  I thought about how my back muscles felt at the top of the local rock face after having accomplished an "impossible" route despite having swum all over the Mediterranean earlier in the morning on Saturday.  I thought about the view of the African coast from the mountain top I had hiked to during lunch break and how tiny I felt in comparison to the world.  I thought about how my Spanish teacher would make me translate whatever I wrote down into Spanish.  I wrote, "I am loving my time in Spain so far." 

The village of Mijas Pueblo as seen from the top of the mountain on which is sits 

Swimming in the Med - a 10 minute bus ride from home

Climbing just a couple blocks from our home 

Just as I was hoping, the G-42 Leadership Academy appears to be a place of raw Christian community, practical Kingdom-centered academia, and experienced mentorship in a picture perfect location.  I live on the edge of the little village of Mijas Pueblo in an old white church perched on the side of a mountain.  My roommates are fellow students; six Americans, two Dutchmen, and one South African.  All of them want to change the world through love and I have no doubts that they will.  They are people of character, honor, and motivation and I feel blessed to live life with them.  The professors are some of the most accomplished and experienced people I have met, ranging from church planters to CEOs to non-profit visionaries. 

Sunrise yesterday from my patio 

The point of G-42 is to bring its "interns" to a place where they can make a detailed, practical plan about how they are going to love some people and reverse an oppression in the name of Jesus and then go do it.  The school accomplishes this through mentorship, discipleship, teaching, and intentional community.  It is an exciting place to be.  I am still trying to figure out exactly what I want out of my time here and what I am going to do afterward but I can honestly say from the bottom of my heart, "I am loving my time in Spain so far."  

What's the Most Beautiful Place on Earth?

Havasupai might be the most beautiful place on earth.  Imagine that unrealistic scene from "The Swiss Family Robinson" Disney movie when they happen upon a tropical pool surrounded by palm trees and jungle vines complete with water chutes to slide down.  Now place 50 of those pools in a row connected with the kind of creek a lazy-river ride tries to imitate, add some 200 foot waterfalls, and put that in the middle of the biggest, most rugged canyon on the planet and you have Havasupai.  Photos do it no justice, but even they look fictional. 

The Swiss Family Robinson Pool

This kind of place comes with a price though.  Some people wait years for a permit so they can drive hundreds of miles of back roads to hike a 10 mile trail down a desert canyon to access it.  Appropriately, I have never heard of anyone going for just one day.  Just the drive there and the hike down and up takes more than a day.

I lay awake on the couch regretting the cup of coffee earlier in the day.  It was 1 AM and I was thinking about my plan for the next two days.  My friend Phil and I had talked about hiking the Grand Canyon together ever since he was here in 2009, so in June we agreed on a 4 day span and he bought his flight from Baltimore.  Then, in the middle of September I decided to go to a school in Spain which unfortunately began the same day as our proposed hike.  I squeezed the hike as early into Phil's vacation as possible and booked my flight to Spain for two days after the first day of class.  Then, a week ago, the US government shut down most of its operations due to a lack of budget concurrence thereby closing all access to the Grand Canyon.  Just to top it all off, Phil missed his flight to Phoenix and arrived 9 hours late.  Now here I was lying awake on my couch wondering how I could get the most out of the next day and a half. 

Suddenly, with no meandering thought train, an idea presented itself in my head.  Havasupai is actually a small section of the Grand Canyon that is owned and run by a Native American tribe unaffiliated with the bickering federal government.  Why couldn't two young healthy men do it in a day?  If we started the hike at 5 AM, we could potentially spend a few hours in Havasupai and still get back home with 2 hours to pack before my flight to Spain.  Genius. 

A sign at the Havasupai trail head "No Day Hiking"

The next day I was firmly planted in the leather racing seat of our 2012 Ford Mustang rental car.  As I carved through the Red Rock Canyon road, my smile proved the worth of the $12 upgrade fee.  The plan was to spend "the night" (until 1:30 AM anyway so that we could get to the trailhead by 5) in Sedona at an 1800s log cabin that I had the incredible privilege of accessing through a friend.  It is idyllically situated at the bottom of Red Rock Canyon right next to a crystal clear mountain-fed creek, nestled cozily in the Ponderosa Pines.  We spent the evening warming our bodies around the wood-burning stove while playing cards under the hand-hewn rafters, trying to convince ourselves this was not such a stupid idea. 

Red Rock Canyon by Sedona

My alarm sounded at 1:30 AM.  My brain slowly turned on and I gradually remembered where I was and what lay before me.  I felt as if I had only been sleeping for 5 minutes.  Phil and I groggily packed our belongings, cleaned the cabin, and filled up our plethora of water bottles before easing into the low seats of the Mustang.  Normally I would have fallen asleep an hour into such a drive, but as it was, with the combination of the car, empty Indian reservation roads, and a night sky Galileo would have been jealous of, we arrived in 3 hours flat, an hour and a half sooner than Google Maps estimated, and I was wide awake.  

Just in case your feet stop reminding you how abusive the trail is

By the time the sky was bright enough to see our surroundings we were 3 miles into the canyon.  The sandstone cliffs towered above us and the limestone cliffs towered above them.  In typical Arizona fashion it was a perfect day with not a cloud in the sky.  We hiked fast and soon we were walking through the little village of Supai, the only town in the US that still has its mail delivered by mule.  While I can think of few less-convenient locations for a village, I am sure the view is unparalleled.  The unrealistically beautiful Havasu Creek rushes its way through this part of the canyon and over several mammoth falls before joining with the Colorado River 7 miles downstream.  It brings life to an otherwise arid landscape, the lush green jungle-like flora contrasting strikingly with the red cliffs and tropical turquoise water.   

Going for a swim

Unnamed Falls

Climbing to the bottom of Mooney Falls

Mooney Falls

After 5 hours of rock climbing, swimming, and fighting currents Phil and I rested for a late lunch at the top of Havasu Falls before our 10 mile trek back out.  I sat barefoot on a boulder eating my 4-cheese instant mashed potatoes with sardines and stared out over the 100 foot drop.  Tiny people played in the pool below, fighting the spray to get as close to the waterfall as possible before giving up and letting the current swiftly sweep them back to shore.  To my right, bright blue whirlpools danced around before calmly slipping over the precipice.  Above me, the towering cliffs shone brightly in the midday sun against a crayon-blue sky.  "Thank you God for your creation" I said aloud, then added "and for the incredible opportunity to experience it."  It really is no exaggeration to claim that Havasupai is one of the most beautiful locations in the entire world.

The top of Havasu Falls

Now that I'm sitting in a comfortable seat on a flight to Dublin the hike out almost seems insignificant, but I know at the time, between miles 3 and 9, it was the farthest 10 miles and highest 2500 feet I have ever hiked.  Every bone and muscle in my body was cursing me for what I put them through.  Fortunately for me, Phil did most of the drive home late into the night and I had just enough time to do some laundry and pack for Spain before my 7 AM flight.  It was a successful trip in every aspect and, this time anyway, it paid to have such an ambitious goal.  I can't think of any better place to have spent my last day and a half in the US. 

The sun set as we hiked out