November 8, 2009
I don’t mind when people approach me with questions between sets. Give people credit for recognizing excellence and caring enough to learn more. Lately, I’ve been drawing a lot of attention with my Manta Ray, and folks wanting to know if it makes squats easier. Yes it does, since the device neutralizes problems caused by the typical bent and rusty barbell. However, with the bar placed higher on your traps, you’ll work harder as you’re forced into better, upright form.
When it comes to strange questions, I’d have to give the gold medal to a personal trainer who once sought me out. With her client in tow, this trainer inquired about what exercise I had been doing. It was that newfangled motion called deadlifts.
Irrespective of the query, I draw the line when someone wants to chat mid-exercise. Today, I was grinding away on the StairMaster, with my headphones drowning out the pain and my sweat streaming down the handrails. Desperate for my attention, a woman began knocking hard on the base of my machine. Obviously the gym must be on fire. I couldn’t really hear what this woman was saying, but the upshot was that she wanted to commend me on my workout intensity. Ironic that she didn’t see herself as an impediment towards that goal.
I intended to discount this last intrusion as just another example of poor gym etiquette, but then I had an epiphany. If I had witnessed something in the gym as unusual as a person training hard, wouldn’t I also seek out the nearest member to gush about it?
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As a footnote, I’d add that violations of gym etiquette aren’t limited to the gym. I was in the middle of a jog once when a car rolled up next to me and began matching my brisk 8-minute mile pace. The driver lowered her window and shouted out a question about directions.
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Posted by Keva Silversmith
May 14, 2009
I know that golf is supposed to be the sport most metaphorically applicable to life. But I’d like to mention this bit of insight that came from my coach of youth soccer: A ball rolling slowly towards the goal has a much greater chance of scoring than a fast wild shot that is off the mark. This wisdom is clearly applicable to something like financial planning, and also to the gym.
I used to deadlift extremely heavy – my best sets were 335 lbs for six reps, with no belt on. I’m also proud to say that my form was perfect. However, the only way I could get out of a car for one week following was to open the door and roll out onto the ground.
Today, as I watched an average-sized guy load up a barbell with four plates on a side, my amusement was tempered by empathy.
For a regular guy, a 405 lb deadlift is preposterous. To be sure, I’d never before seen a person deadlift with a spotter, getting pulled upright at the top of each rep. I did, however, recognize the noise this guy made bouncing his barbell as a grocery cart being pushed down the stairs. Regardless, when this fellow added another 25 lb plate between sets, I didn’t even bother to continue watching. I just turned away and waited for the sound of splintering low back ligaments.
Nowadays, I do my sets of deadlifts at about 225 lbs for eight or nine reps. I’m no longer the man to call to lift a car off some unfortunate soul, but I’m also not missing bunches of workouts due to a wrecked low back. I figure it’s better to be at the gym making slow but regular progress, than to engage in one fast wild workout and spend the next several days in bed.
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Posted by Keva Silversmith
April 5, 2009
A heavyset gentleman stepped onto the locker room scale. He looked down at the digits, then sighed in disgust and cursed loudly. He raised his head and glowered at the reflection in the mirror. The look in his eyes betrayed his anger at himself, and then expressed a fresh resolve.
As he turned to leave, the guy nodded to an acquaintance passing by.
“See you tomorrow?” his friend asked.
“Naah,” the guy responded. “Maybe Tuesday.”
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Posted by Keva Silversmith
March 27, 2009
Due to our lack of skill, my golfing buddy and I usually play a scramble. After each stroke, we both take our next swing from the preferred location of the better ball. I remember one hole when my friend blasted his drive almost 300 yards: his ball traveled 150 yards straight and then 150 yards right, landing deep in the woods. I launched my drive straight but sky-high, causing the ball to plug hard against the wall of a sand trap. Someone in our foursome, unable to contain his schadenfreude, yelled out, “And that’s your preferred drive!”
Golf is a sport that requires focus and concentration, just like serious exercise. I’ve long believed that proper conditioning is not just a measure of fitness, but also an ability to block out a gym’s countless distractions. Frankly, I don’t see how you can achieve one without the other. Just take a look at a typical week of assaults on my senses.
Sight: On Monday, I pushed open the door of my gym and walked into a cave. The fellow at the front desk asked my forgiveness for the power outage, and invited me to work out anyway. Dude: no apology necessary – I’m just delighted the front door is unlocked. The rest is up to me.
Sound: How about working out while a fire alarm shrieks endlessly? (Same gym, same time.)
Smell: On Wednesday, my jump rope and I were met at the threshold of the aerobics room by the health club version of tear gas: a repairman was applying industrial lubricant to a dozen stationary bikes. I counted on my clean-running liver to process the toxic fumes at the same rate I inhaled them.
Touch: On Friday, the gym I used has its free weight area built on some kind of plywood platform. When I perform heavy squats, I can feel the floor sag under the weight of each rep.
Now I know what you’re thinking: The distractions at the beginning of the week were just a coincidence, but an unstable floor is a permanent feature. Shouldn’t a weak base be motivation enough to go find a new club?
Actually, this facility is my preferred gym.
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Posted by Keva Silversmith
