Lifting the Weight

I am learning to manage the work/recovery cycle.

I intended to take yesterday off, but when I looked at the workout I had planned, I could see that none of my sore muscles were the ones I would be focusing on, so I went on to the gym after work.

Yesterday was all about the Bench Press. This is and arm curls are most teenage boy's favorite lifts because they turn your chest and arms into babe magnets. They are great exercises when integrated into a more comprehensive workout plan. On their own, they pretty much just make the parts you see in the mirror look good when you're shaving.

Here's 8 time Mr. Olympia Ronnie Coleman ("Light Weight!", "Yeah, Buddy!") showing you how the big boys do it.



Ronnie is a great champion and a real character. He hoots and hollers when he works out and seems to have a lot of fun training. His story is inspiring. He competed for many years, always a top finisher, but almost never a winner in big time bodybuilding before finally winning Olympia for the first time in 1998. One of the most famous parts of his schtick in the gym is this quote:

Everybody wanna be a bodybuilder, but don't nobody wanna lift no heavy-ass weight!

I was talking with Mrs. P about that yesterday. It struck me as a really profound observation. In a world where you buy a pill to make you thin or a car to make you sexy - where you can borrow money you haven't earned yet to by things you'll never really need - where the mantra often seems to be "if it's too hard, don't do it". You want to be rich? Buy a lottery ticket. Want something you can't afford? Use the Visa card. Want to be happy? Pay a shrink. It's refreshing to be reminded by someone who knows that you can't make your dreams happen if you aren't willing to do the work.

To me, "lifting the heavy-ass weight" isn't just hoisting hundreds of pounds of iron up and down. It's the actor who spends hours perfecting an accent or a cook who works for years to get a sauce just right. It's the student who starts cramming the first week of class, not the week before finals. It's the husband who stays and learns how to love his family. Lifting the heavy-ass weight is doing what it takes to be good at what you love.

I don't expect I'll ever look like Ronnie Coleman. I am way to vain about my hair to wear that look, But I take him to the gym with me when I go. He reminds me to laugh between sets, to refuse to give up, and to keep on lifting the heavy-ass weight.

Yeah, Buddy!

Peace,
Pennsy

Gum-Banz for Pennsy

If you didn’t grow up in the region of Pennsyltucky where I was raised, you probably never heard of gum-banz. They’re those rubber loops you use to wrap around a bundle of one dollar bills or hold your ponytail in place or shoot at your little sister. Folks from other places call them “rubber bands” but that just seems like a waste of letters to me.

Today I learned to exercise using great big gum-banz. It looks like something a sissy would do. Any sissy who can do the workout Brad taught me today, can have my lunch money anytime.

Let me describe this workout to you, because it sounds as crazy as it looks. Trust me, it isn't nearly as funny from the inside.

You start by bouncing a medicine ball - this ball is about the size of a basketball and weighs 6 or eight pounds - I don’t remember. You hold it up over your head, and slam it into the floor as hard as you can. Then you catch it and do it again. After about 90 seconds of this, I was warmed up and beginning a good soaking sweat.

Next is an exercise where you hold a ball with handles on both sides. You stagger your stance, then twist and reach down, as if you were picking up a watermelon. You explode up and across your body and reach high in the opposite direction.

Then we put the balls away and got out the resistance bands. Brad showed me how to clip them through a snap hook on the wall and do chest presses, rows, squat presses, oblique twists, and some crazy thing that I swear he made up on the spot. You bend down, press up, bend to the right, press up, bend to the left, press up, then bend down again. It was the end of the workout and I think I did two.Brad considered the prospect of giving me CPR on the floor of the gym, then agreed to let me stop for the day. He couldn’t think of a name for this last devilish exercise so I just suggested we call it the Bradley.

Oh, we also did my first real bench press with a barbell and everything. I felt like a kid again. Though I seem to remember benching a lot more weight when I was a kid.

I made my way to the treadmill with my shirt soaked, my arms numb, and my lower lip hanging helplessly from my slackened jaw.

My neighbor on the next machine chuckled knowingly. “Well, how was your session with Ol’ Blood and Guts?”

“That guy just whipped my butt with a big rubber band.”

“Yeah, he’s good at that.”

He is, actually.

This is just the sort of thing I wanted to add to my routine. It is a full-body workout with plenty for the limbs and the core. If my muscles were used to the weight machines, they are going to be doing some very new stuff. I’m going to stick with the bands for a week or so until I feel like I’ve learned them, then I’ll start mixing weights back in.

It is a fantastic spring day in the Bluiegrass. I came home last night and did some cleanup in the yard, then got out the old hand clippers and gave the hedges a haircut first thing this morning. Its the first time I’ve done any real yard work since I started going to the gym. I could feel a real difference in my strength and endurance. Nice to be able to do something around the yard and not wind up gasping for air.

All in all, a good day for the Fat Man.

Peace, and happy Passover.
Pennsy