I’m an idiot.
My wife, bless her soul, will tell me that at least once a day. Normally, when I get home from gym, sweating and panting, I collapse on the couch like a geriatric dog forced to limp around the block.
“You’re an idiot,” are the words of encouragement I’m met with from my beautiful wife. She always says it with a smile of her face, so I think she enjoys my pain… then again, don’t most wives enjoy seeing their husbands in pain?
I’d argue with her if not for three things:
- She’s right,
- She’s never wrong, even when I’m wrong, and
- I’m wrong, even when I’m right.
Take today for instance. It was arm day, time to get fully swole and pump up the bi’s and tri’s. You know what they say, “curls get the girls”. My workout consisted of me, in a gym, surrounded by sweaty guys who poorly execute basic movements in the pursuit of misguided muscle growth, all while downing useless ‘magic’ supplement drinks.
Meanwhile, it was beautiful weather outside. Winter in Melbourne, and it was a brisk 19 odd degrees with clear skies and a still breeze. How could I turn that down for the sweat and grim of the gym?
(In saying that, I do also love the sweat and grim of the gym… as long as people stay away from me.)
Instead of pumping out an obscene amount of every type of bicep curl and tricep extension, I modified my own little workout based on complexes and got started in my backward using modified gym equipment.
Complete 4 rounds of the following, resting 90 seconds between each round:
Overhead squat x 6-8
KB swings x 8-10
One arm bent over row x 8-10 per side
Reverse lunges x 8-10 per side
and then I became an idiot.
Part of knew I was doing something ridiculously ill-advised, but then I remembered that I’m an idiot like that.
Each round was capped off with Farmers Walks for 430 meters total. I varied it, depending on the round, as follows:
Round 1: Two arm Farmers Walk
Round 2: One arm suitcase carry (change arms on way back)
Round 3: One arm suitcase carry (start with opposite arm, change arms on way back)
Round 4: Two arm Farmers Walk
Then I’d collapse for 90 seconds before doing it all over again.
The entire way up the hill, holding the water jugs and panting hard, I was just waiting for someone to call out something idiotic like, “Want a lift mate?” or “You know, if you drank the water then the jugs would be lighter.”
But, at the end of the day, I did something different and threw a curveball at my body. When my biceps were shouting, “go bro, curl that weight! Fully sick!” (because that’s how I imagine my biceps would talk) I surprised them by picking up 20kg and walking 215 meters up and down a steep hill.
Afterwards, my biceps were going, “Bro, what’s up? I thought we were cool?! That was NOT a bicep curl, what gives?”
Even though my biceps hated me (and my shoulders, traps and forearms as well) it felt good to get out in the sun and away from what I know.
And that’s something a lot more people could benefit from.