So I’ve kicked the gyming into high gear. I’m all about kicking the living daylights out of this last hundred.
Last week I started with a new trainer. Let’s call him Luther.
Luther is a giant. Like really big. In a fit way.
I asked the manager of the gym I go to for a trainer was going to kick my ass.
This past Saturday I was put through my paces. Exploring the world of Romanian deadlifts and circuits that would have flat out killed me a year ago.
At one point I remember looking up at Luther and slurring, “I can’t feel my legs, is that cool?”
Luther said nothing. If this was wartime Paris I could imagine him taking out a silk cloth and shining the barrel of his Luger as I grunted and sweated in the mud below.
At one point I muttered “I’m going to go get some water now”, like some awkward six year old.
He just nodded towards the fountain.
And as I walked through the gauntlet of Icelandic strongmen that happen to frequent my particular gym (I know, weird right?), I noticed something.
I was walking like a marionette. Zero control of my legs.
When I arrived back Luther just stared at me, “you drink a lot of water.”
“Yes,” I said, “it’s because you’re fucking killing me.”
No, I didn’t say that.
What I said was, “mmm sorry” — looking sheepishly at my feet as they crumpled and shook beneath my knees.
When it was all over Luther gave me praise.
“You tried hard.”
Geez, thanks Luth.
What followed over the course of the next three days could only be summed up with one word — “intense”.
I couldn’t pick up my socks. I couldn’t sit down properly, instead I elected to flop onto every surface I encountered.
All the while I imagined Luther kicking back in some leather chair petting a hairless cat, grinning at the thought of his victims struggling to get into their cars or shoveling their driveways.
It damn near did me in. But do you know something? The only thought in my head was “I’ve got to get back to the gym”.
Because no matter how sore I felt, I knew that the only thing that would make this better was doing it over again… and again and again and again.
One of the things that really throws people off about working out is the soreness. It can be hell. Especially in the beginning. That’s why it’s important to start off light. Discover your limitations and work through them. Learn what muscle soreness feels like. Figure out the difference between that and injury and you’ll have a better understanding of what your body can tolerate.
If I had done that workout a year ago. There’s no friggin’ way I’d go back.
But because I’ve had the experience of working my way through those aches and pains, and discovering how my body reacts to physical stress, I knew it will all be worth it.
Sometimes a heavy hand is just what the doctor ordered.
Long live, Luther.