Getting back to writing about my fitness goals…
I had intentionally stopped writing about these particular goals for a long while. In fact, my plan was not to mention the subject again. There’s only so much one can write about when it comes to a lifetime of trying to get in shape. And failing.
I have had the benefit over the years of a number of resources yet never felt confident that any of the information I received was either worthwhile or accurate (in other words, it wouldn’t deliver the results I wanted to see). In particular, the past four years I’ve been leeching off the training advice of a coworker who generously tried to help whenever he could. The problem, it turns out, was me. I always had some kind of excuse. Sometimes it was valid and oftentimes it was not.
About three months ago, having completed the Insanity Max:30 program from BeachBody and having taken a subsequent Christmas break and some time off for the death of my father I committed to BeachBody’s BodyBeast program.
The program started out great. I spent three weeks using fairly light dumbbells in what the program’s trainer calls the “Build Phase”. That is, you build yourself up to the next phase by learning the movements and proper form. In my case, even though it had been many years, I was re-acclimating myself to these movements. Not entirely unfamiliar with weightlifting technique, I discovered that I more or less remembered proper form.
When I finished building I moved into the “Bulk Phase”. The goal of the whole program is to build solid muscle, something I have lacked. I started seeing results, especially after another friend who had injured his shoulder graciously loaned me some considerably heavier dumbbells. I’d buy my own but a full set runs around $500 and I don’t feel like dropping that kind of cash on something I wasn’t sure would benefit me.
Then came the callback… Two weeks ago today the guy with the bum shoulder called his weights back. He was recovered and ready to lift again. To my surprise (and not entirely unsure of whether he was just trying to be polite) he called that night and asked if we could workout together. His weights. His garage. In my mind I balked at the idea because I just didn’t love the idea of making a fool of myself. Don’t forget, I’m probably the most insecure person you’ll ever meet. Seems to me that most guys my age are not only either current or former champion athletes but also far more adept than me in a gym. This guy was going to kick my ass and then laugh about it. Or worse yet, he’d patronize me by telling me “good effort!”
But it wasn’t as bad as I had imagined. For the past two weeks, almost every night around 9:30, he and I have been lifting heavy weights in his garage. I’m noticing tremendous gains. Even if I’m the only one who sees it, the muscle is there and getting bigger. What’s more important is that an increase in raw strength – something I had almost overlooked as a goal – is also improving. This past Sunday my friend called me as I was on my way home from graduation. He told me to swing by his house. He had a present for me. He had heard me make one of my trademark excuses. “I could do pull up’s… if I had the proper bar with the right clearance.” So he made me a bar out of a length of pipe he’d picked up from Lowe’s. He completed the bar with mounting brackets and told me to stick it onto the cross timber of my kids’ playset in the yard.
And so for the past four days, with no actual excuse in sight, I’ve been doing pull up’s. I heard a statistic about a year ago that said only 1% of grown men can properly do a single pull up. That sounds high to me; but then again I’m talking about real, solid, proper-form pull up’s – the kind where you dead-hang from the bar before lifting yourself completely up to chest height. I certainly had a hard time for the longest time. Callouses, gripping the bar right, what muscles to engage, etc… But when you shed those excuses – or rather, when someone takes them away from you – it all comes down to how committed you are. I WANT to do pull ups. Another friend told me today that he knocks out 25-50 a day every 2-4 days. That’s impressive. No comparisons here. That would be insane. But man, I’d love to get to that level.
Toward that end I gripped the bar this past Sunday. Remember that strength I mentioned? It must be growing, especially in my forearms and upper back. I nailed 5 of them. And as if to knock me back down I tried a sixth and struggled hard. I’ve been experimenting and discovered that I can knock out five at a time, take about three minutes, and knock out another five. Can I do more than that? I’d probably need more of a break between the later sets. Should I try? I see no reason not to. Just a short while ago I hit fifteen in three sets of five over about five minutes.
But without a friend like the guy who threw this bar together for me I wouldn’t be able to try. And if he’s reading this (which he probably isn’t) I want him to know how much I really appreciate that and the time he’s investing and the camaraderie. I’m certainly having fun. I’ve had a few personal goals in the past few years. One of them was to move into school administration before I turn 40. Another was to get shredded before 40. In both cases I’ve been motivated by a desire to prove myself. Very few people have any measure of real respect for teachers. It’s sad but true. Even those with the best of intentions generally let on that, in their minds, teaching is something you do when you can’t do anything else. I know my fellow teachers know what I’m talking about. Likewise, very few men have any measure of real respect for a man who is weak. They may be polite and tell you athletic ability, broad shoulders, and curling prowess are overrated but deep down we all know differently. It’s man’s nature to respect power and achievement.
I got the admin job. I’m excited to finally show my family and friends I’m actually a really talented guy who is competent in the formation of youth. So what if some of them needed to see a title attached to my name in order to believe it. I’ve always considered myself mentally strong. Maybe those same people will finally see that strength in me too. So what if some of them need to see a strong body to believe it. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get jacked before I’m 40 after all.