Gym regimen - November 2010

A1: Quads and Biceps (MONDAY): 50+ mins
CIRCUIT
94kg, BMI 27

Warmup: Stretching, calisthenics, jump rope
[Hallelujah! My foot is well enough that I'm getting back into jump rope. I discovered last night that I can skip inside my room. w00t!]

CIRCUIT:

Leg extension: 14, 10, 8 @ 45kg, 50kg, 55kg

Walking lunges: 16, 14, 12 @ 25kg, 30kg, 35kg

Squat: 10, 8, 6, 4 @ 90kg, 100kg, 110kg, 115kg

EZ barbell curl: 10, 8, 6** @ 35kg, 45kg, 55kg
[The 5th and 6th reps of the 3rd set were body cheats into negatives.]

Hammer-grip dumbbell curl: 10, 8, 6* @ 15kg, 19kg, 22kg
[I did these towards the midline, up along the torso, into a very high and tight flex.]

High cable curls: 10, 8, 8 @ 27.5kg, 32.5kg, 36.5kg
[High and tight! My goal is to "punch" my skull with both fists on each rep.]

CIRCUIT:

Ab cable pulldown: 36, 30, 24 @ 30kg, 35kg, 37.5kg

Plate curl: 6/6, 6/6, 6/6 @ 15kg, 20kg, 25kg

+ + +
A funny development… developed… last week. A friend of mine visited me at the gym Friday night and I mentioned I had done a PR on the deadlift (5x @ 130kg) the night before. I realized I had spoken too loudly, since my coworker overheard me. This guy obviously prides himself on his body––a regular full-body shaver, he is––and is startled to find I am catching up on him. He usually deadlifts up to 120kg for a few sets of 4–6 reps. Not puny by any means, but, with my natural leg and back strength, I am out for progressive gains on the deadlift. I've seen him do the same deadlift routine for at least two months. (He does a 2-on-2-off, upper-lower regimen, so we're at the gym on the same days: Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday.) It seems I have put another fire under his arse. The first flames? Weeks ago, presumably because he saw me doing more than a few good pullups or heavy lat pulldowns, I don't know, I noticed he used a weight belt for his pullups, and for the first time in the months I've seen him there. The next day at work he even made a point of mentioning his decision to "add weight" to his pullups, "to go heavy again."

Well, last week, minutes after I spoke about my deadlift, I was doing cable pulldowns, when over walks my coworker––apparently, to grill me. Even as I'm doing my pulldowns!

"How much did you say you did on the deadlift?"

"130. [grunt]"

"130, eh? All the way down?"

"Yeah. [grunt] And not bouncing."

"All the way up?"

"Yeah, I flexed out. [grunt]"

"Hm, interesting."

The weekend came and went.

(Actually, I had a great weekend, very full: tutoring two of my favorite students in the morning, then a nap, a day hike, a haircut, a nice dinner, and a good time at a pub with old friends and a new acquaintance to round out Saturday; then on Sunday, a nice Mass, after which I recovered a missing book, had a nap, and went shopping, had dinner, went bowling, and saw a movie––interrupted by an earthquake heheh–– with a friend and a few new acquaintances… and then slept for a new week.)

Today at work he asked me again about my deadlift. Good grief, I thought. Don't blame me for waking you up to your own precious potential!

To add a little farce to the mix, when I got to the gym tonight and was heading into the changing room, he emerged from the toilet area, apparently all done, ready to go home.

"You finished early tonight, eh?" I asked

"Hey," he 'interjected', "140. Two sets of five. 140 kilos."

I looked askance as graciously as possible. "Good, man, that's good. Uhh… Later, I gotta change."

"Yeh," he nodded his nose, "cheerio." He's from South Africa.

I'm not complaining: competitive inspiration is good. I do however find his thinly veiled insecurity unseemly and I have every confidence that in the coming months I will surpass him on nearly every front. His keystone exercises are dips, calf raises, pullups, and the deadlift, so I will simply keep tunneling. He doesn't squat and I'm perfectly happy to "hibernate" a few months while my deadlift swells, slowly but surely. I've got the advantage of youth, combined with the fact that I have yet to plateau, whereas he's got years of experience on me and is that much closer to his plateau, or perhaps even just a dessicated shadow of it. "Slow and steady, etc."

My senior year in high school, I was bow in the varsity eight. We had won the year before and had high expectations for what was more than half of our boat's final season. At the first regatta, however, in Melbourne, FL, I believe, we got smoked: we came in dead last and looked awful. In the coach's hotel room that evening for the team meeting, a former rowing mate of our coach's, a college coach, debriefed us. We looked terrible, he said, weak, out of synch, and apparently out of our league. The other boats looked efficient, focused, and poised for a winning season. Yet––yet, he explained, therein lay our greatest potential. Our competitors were already so good that their margin for improvement was, well, marginal, whereas we had leagues of room to improve. I was not alone in finding this paradox extremely encouraging, and, by the end of the season, we were state champs. From rags to riches, and the like. So it is with my coworker: he's bigger than me and lifts heavier on some exercises, but he's got less potential, which is to say, less potency––less power (potentia). I relish my relative weakness, since I'm really only training against myself, training my own body. If, in the course of my body-building, I happen to spur others on, and then, in spurring, surpass them, so be it. One day, sooner than later sub specie aeternitatis, I'll be as dead as the hair I left behind at the barber shop this weekend. Might as well let the weak-minded fret and just tend to my own plot of land.

Patience, Humility, Confidence.