Welcome back.

It’s VW in da house.

Today, I’m going to discuss how we are all out of shape, and how misery loves company.

Being “in shape” creates a sense of work ethic, of caring and putting in the necessary time. “Getting into shape” denotes a progressive improvement, like honoring your 0.25 GPA improvement at Pizza Hut with a free kiddie meal despite moving from awful to simply sigh-worthy. Being out of shape is no longer relegated to a caste similar to the untouchables. A forty-five-hour-plus workweek doesn’t help this situation, nor does grinding a tournament.

Being in shape is a sacrifice of leisure where you don’t net 2 mana immediately and thus, leisure time is squandered for future gains. Was grinding for hours on end worth it to Brad Nelson?

Follow me and see.

Being Out of Shape Physically

I now weigh ten pounds more than I did when I was running.

It’s the same amount that I normally buy in whole tenderloins for summer grilling. ($4.99 a pound, how can I resist?)

Ten pounds on my 5′ 10″ frame isn’t really a lot to write home about. Most collegiate freshmen gain twenty more quarter-pounders in a mere year alone.

Eating a daily bowl of cereal at 11:00 p.m. with an ice cream cone will haunt you. Also, it’s clearly not me. Though I did own some gray A-shirts back in the day.

It isn’t that alarming in numbers, but in reality, I lost the majority of my muscle mass from working out nine times a week, and that muscle weight has been largely filled with—well, fat. Do I look different? Not really. My mother no longer asks me if I have enough money (the implication being for food), which is nice. I can no longer sprint up sets of stairs and not feel it, nor run two blocks for a bus and shake it off. I breathe quite heavily now. That sucks.

A sample track workout from the past:

4–6 × 600m “breakdown” with 200m in 0:30, 200m in 0:45, 200m in 0:30. We would get seven minutes’ rest between repetitions and then, rinse, yell at a garbage can, repeat, and finally crawl home.

I don’t miss the workouts themselves, but I do miss the relief after each day. When I came home weary, with half a PB&J still on my shirt from going a little too hard, I was either happy with giving my all that day, or questioning myself to reexamine my purpose. I usually wondered while standing in ice water. It clears your mind quickly.

Being out of shape is not a trait I’m dealing with easily. What does that have to do with Vorthos? Well, I’m out of shape in both ways, and every single Vorthos is out of shape. We both need to start doing two-a-days. Seriously, look at Vorthos:

You kidding me? Sigh.

Being Out of Game Shape

Being out of shape is not necessarily being out of touch.

Vorthos is not a player. It’s the z-axis on a player psychographic profile. The farther into Vorthosian culture you delve, the worse a player you become. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news. Yes, some Vorthoses have a few pro points, fine. But on the whole, Vorthos is a terrible player but very aware of what’s going on in the overall game and the game behind the game, and going deeper into another game, and so on.

If you’re out of shape on flavor, you’ll likely not only miss a major discussion but also the following analysis. To ask after the fact will be as hard as pulling teeth to obtain reliable information. “You should already know.” (Pushes glasses upward.)

The mothership forums are heavy, making for trudging through them boring and repetitive, and after the discussion, you’re not even remotely invested. The only people remaining are guys like this and trolling reviews that question product previews:

“Venser vs. Koth? Wat?!” – Original poster

“Venser’s dead.” – Every Vorthos everywhere

“Oh, Vorthos.” – WotC staff

Vorthos knows what’s going on but doesn’t understand whether to main-deck that Blood Moon in his Zoo build or not. Normally, a Vorthos isn’t sure what “Zoo” even means, but assumes there are animals are in there and it’s probably an aggro build. Probably.

A story to explain more in depth:

John Wade asked me over our GM GenCon dinner how much a near-mint Sol Ring was worth from Revised. I thought for a minute, having a rough idea, and concluded that since Commander products all had one, revised copies must have either risen in value or plummeted. I guessed low at $6. Twelve American dollars was his answer. I could deduce a number, but not the correct one.

I realized then that I’m out of shape, and I thought I was at least toned.

• I can’t accurately price dual lands off the top of my head from one to ten. Underground Sea is roughly $100, but how roughly? How does condition affect its price?
• I don’t know off the top of my head what ThaGunslinga has on MOTL today. He’s always a measuring stick for pricing.
• I’m not sure how much shock lands are going for at this very moment, and at what price I should start hoarding Shadowmoor and Future Sight lands.

Brad Nelson is out of shape physically and mentally to society, I presume—as Rich Hagon described him between the lines—but the man is at the top, honing his Magic training to a disciplined regimen. He’s “in shape” very much in his discipline. He knows what each common does in every set and analyzes their power in a vacuum, slowly. Not many players sit down and test everything, but there’s not much to do in Fargo, so I understand. It’s windy, it’s flat, the women aren’t that attractive, and there’s nothing for hundreds of miles.

Out of shape in running is one week of sedentary activity. At two weeks, you’ve lost 75% of your fitness. If you sit out a draft on MTGO or in real life, you don’t lose much. If you’re Brad Nelson, you lose nothing. If you get banned and try to return, it takes months to years to get back into the game. Chapin did it, and we’ll see if the French duo can as well. Those people are at the top of the game. I don’t write for grinders and pros; I’m looking at the alumni here. They remember when a Tarmogoyf slipped by or a Sensei’s Divining Top was made to little fanfare. Now every new card is devoured hundreds of times over, analyzed from every angle to exploit its power.

How to Get Back into Shape . . . 

 . . . Physically.

Start working out.

The standby of fat, out-of-shape nerd needs to be as popular as Vintage tournaments. They can exist, but only rarely.

Start with simply stretching three mornings a week before you go to work. I prefer limbering up before a shower, but do as you will.

Once you limber up a bit, for five to ten minutes, do core work for ten to twenty. The Internet has more than enough suggestions.

The next steps depend on you. Team sports, running, swimming, or weight training are all simply options. Just keep doing it three times a week for a few months. It’ll wake you up better than any cup of coffee and improve your life. Seriously.

 . . . Mentally.

If you need to watch Rocky, do it. John Stanko, a fantasy artist, told me that despite the myriad of motivational plans and programs out there, all you really need are four goals. He told me to write them down and make them easy, easier, moderately difficult, and difficult to attain. If you see them every day, you realize that you’re either moving toward them or away from them. That’s it.

I can’t make you hustle every day; few can be Rick Ross. But if you aren’t constantly reminded, you can forget what your purpose is. I had to walk back to my locker after freezing ice baths to see my note explaining in simple language why I wanted to run.

 . . . With Flavor.

Start reading:

Read Doug Beyer’s articles.

Read Vorthos Wednesday posts.

Read the Vorthos posts on the mothership forums.

Read the current novel.

Read Phyrexia.com’s Sixth Sphere forum. It’s crazy-old and needs an update, with trolls lurking everywhere, but you shouldn’t need Virgil or Beatrice to guide you through.

Read, read, read.

If you’re out of shape on the Magic art scene, you’ll wonder where the painters all went. Go to a library and pick up the newest version of Spectrum and page through, seeing what the previous year has for style. If you’re still flabby on painterly goings-on, just drop me a line; I’m always online.

 . . . In Pricing Cards and Trading.

1. Set a schedule for reading.

Your reading list should be voracious each morning. Quiet Speculation and our two financial gurus in JR Wade and Ryan Bushard should be the tip of your iceberg.

2. Buy a box.

This is a collectible card game. It is not supposed to be cheap or easy to approach. (Okay, they try, but when you’ve already played and are trying to get back into it, you’re not going to buy an intro pack or other “approachable” supplies . . . maybe Commander products, but they’re fantastically made.)

Crack a box and go through the cards. If you come out financially ahead, cool; you found a chase mythic. If you got the rotten box, you now have motivation to hustle out the commons and uncommons to players before tournaments to get that value out of your box. You’ll also be more motivated to research pricing, which gets you back in. Any Google search will do.

3. Open a MagicTraders account.

The MOTL Trade & Value Questions board is fantastic for seeing skyrocketing cards or language differences in value. It’s a great morning skim-read to familiarize yourself with price fluctuations.

4. Get on Twitter.

Watch the #mtg hashtag, as people will buy and sell things quickly when prices jump. Watching on Saturday and Sunday afternoons are best for frantic Tweets. “OMG Splinter Twin!”

5. Scour your local Craigslist.

Craigslist is the new garage sale for finding a jackpot Magic box for nearly nothing. It’s still quite rare to find a box, but over a summer, you can find one or two deals. Keep in mind that people will charge you. I said “nearly” nothing. Finding beat Force of Wills is now close to impossible.

 . . . In Playing the Game.

Do two-a-days.

In a one-week period:

1. Enter a sealed tournament that registers decks and swaps pools.

Immerse yourself in the set, play dudes, and removal.

After the tournament, ask the store if you can keep the registration sheets. They’ll raise an eyebrow, but tell them that you want to learn from other people’s building mistakes. Go through each pool and find what they did wrong. After six to eight, you start to notice patterns and gain a feel for the set.

2. Enter a draft, ideally one that redrafts rares and foils.

Play, have fun, and I hope you win.

After the tournament, sit down with a friend and rebuild your pool. This is where subtlety and nuance help to refine your choices. If you can, ask the person who won to help you—and a bored shopkeeper loves nothing more than being asked for his or her “professional” opinion.

3. Open a Magic Online account.

Go through every tutorial and draft once a week to start. Once you build up a collection (or reopen it), start making goals of redemption or testing new tech in the one-on-one rooms.

I can’t be your trainer; that’s a job for Mickey and my boy, Bob Ross. I can barely get myself to run a 5K, but I can give you a swift kick to get back into that ring, pick up that baton, and get to grinding to greatness, like Brad Nelson.

Good luck.