Rock Around the Clock
You can unloose a man from the millstone that binds him, but you can’t prevent him from hauling it to his shoulder, lugging it everywhere he goes and rejoicing. Four consecutive days off from weightlifting is my limit, and those I confine to special occasions. There are valid and invalid reasons for this tight training control, not one is original and I respect them all.
You know how it goes; if I miss my workout...
I lose everything I trained so hard for.
My muscles shrink by the minute.
I get fat, round and smooth.
My strength leaks from my body like air from a worn retread.
The world becomes a frightening place.
I can’t think, make decisions or get out of bed.
I wanna pull my hair out.
I feel sluggish and have no appetite.
Unresolved stress haunts my soul and I can not stop eating.
I miss the gym, the sounds, the smells and the movement of metal.
I long for the pump and burn and exhilaration of a great workout.
I crave the order and rhythm and fulfillment of a thorough training session.
I want to crush things that get in my way.
People follow me and talk behind my back. You’ve gotta believe me.
I get headaches, nosebleeds and hallucinations.
I drool, I mutter, I wet my pants.
Returning to the gym after an extended layoff is numbing and nauseating, and is probably the best reason for not suspending one’s training. I cannot put into words the dull and defeated feelings I’ve suffered as I’ve picked up the bar and performed the first reps of the first sets after too much time away from the weights. Why did I let go? They are only exceeded in their dismalness by the void and guilt felt during the layoff itself.
Oh, if only I had not abandoned my workouts, how much better life would be.
Doctor... over here... this man needs oxygen.
Reluctant, yet insistent, I concentrate on the past to recall these cheerless occasions and the obvious question swirls through my mind: Why bother? Alas, much instruction is gained from past suffering. Savor the lesson and apply the learning; hate not the teacher nor the classroom.
In a recent conversation I had with Bill Pearl, one being taped for DVD production, Bill framed with considerable care and emphasis a testament about training layoffs. As if time stood still and sound was eliminated, this man who speaks only truth gained my attention. "Do not layoff!" accompanied by lightning and thunder, was the essence of his testimony.
Three decades ago amid 60 years of training, Bill was determined to develop an ambitious gym business, and devoted eight solid months to the project. During that time he exhausted himself, lost connection with the things that mattered, compromised his vigor, might and muscular dynamics and the cheer that fueled his being. He saw it happening, ground his way through it and came out the other side knowing it would never happen again... ever. "Dave, if you can’t take your training with you, it’s not worth going there."
How many bombers, strong and determined as they might be, are undergoing the same regrettable pain and turmoil today? Falling into a training chasm is a catastrophe and groping for purchase as you tumble to the bottom can be a severe and lonely deed.
Are you getting my subtle message, dear friends? Think twice before taking a layoff. Unless you are hemorrhaging, bound and gagged or unconscious, do not withdraw from your lifting. It’s bad for you, the family and the neighborhood. Be strong and carry on.
Yeah, I know: the job, the kids, the spouse, the traffic, the fever and the bone protruding from your ribcage. Oh, the obstacles and sharp downward turns we face each day. But, release your grip on training and you release your grip on life. Let your workouts suffer and the world suffers with you. Cast off the iron and you set yourself adrift. There’s enough burning hopelessness surrounding us without adding to the smoldering debris.
Careful, Draper; your dark side is showing. We’re just talking about a little time from the gym to rest, regroup and repair. This, of course, is fine, providing it does not lead to another day or two or three, whereupon one becomes lost, abandoned and atrophied, another rusting relic littering an untraveled prairie highway, a lifeless bony mass beneath circling vultures, a long vacated shed leaning in an untilled field. Pick up your tools, man, lift that iron and push that steel.
A little time off is for clocks without hands or a young lad’s outgrown Mickey Mouse watch or a grandfather clock whose pendulum no longer swings.
Go to the gym and review your training as you train, consider your ways as you make your way, rethink your exercises as you perform them and note your responses to them. Are you tired? Then train to stimulate only. Blue? Have fun with your favorite movements. Ailing? Go lightly through the motions. Achy? Warm up and follow your nose. Injured? Work around the darn things. Downright fed up, disappointed, frustrated and bored? Tough! Do it right! Blast it! Need the time for a project? Train in the early morning, make it short and sweet.
Periodic layoffs for R n' R make me nervous. You hit a flow of workouts for an appreciable length of time and reward yourself -- and your small gang (girlfriend, boyfriend, cat, dog, family) -- with a delicious training holiday. You’re about to return to action after unbridled freedom and you fall off your bikey. The wrist must mend: a week off. You pack your gym bag once again for a comeback and your boss emphatically recommends you visit Chicago to attend a week-long seminar. Great, The Holiday Inn has a treadmill and recumbent bike. No problem. You return home in time for Thanksgiving, Easter or Christmas and the in-law’s annual migration. They’re like Icelandic geese or North African coastal baboons, very predictable, dependable and noisy and, if they find a desirable environment en route, they stay for weeks at a time. Hi, how are you, we missed you so much, we’ll sleep on the couch, the refrigerator is where it always is...
Now it’s been almost two months since your training was flowing -- or your blood for that matter -- and you’ve got a baby pouch to prove it to the stupid, uncompromising world at your door, darn it all. See what I mean?
No, I save layoffs for special times: wars, famine, earthquakes, floods, plagues and invasions from outer space. Layoffs are like dropping dollars in slot machines at roadside stands on your way to Vegas. Not me. I’d rather stick it in my fuel tank despite the cost of gasoline, get where I’m going and drive around town with the top down -- see the sights, pick up some rays and let the desert wind cool my moist skin.
Newcomers to the engagement of weight training and shaping-up are most susceptible to the grief of layoffs. I observe beginners who embark upon training and my heart aches cuz I suspect they won’t last. I reprimand myself for the secret negative thought, as if my doubt was contributing to their failure. Swell! Now I think they’re a failure and it’s my fault and I feel guilty and all they want to do is ride the stationary bike and read the newspaper.
Excuse me, bombers. The peculiar mindset I exhibit discharges a cascade of ramifications, which I need to expose and clarify.
One: I generalize and pre-judge, scooping the newcomer into one lumpy package -- a probable failure. Two: I’m overly sensitive and suffer an aching heart -- how weak. Three: I absurdly imagine I have some negative voodoo power over the beginning trainee’s choice to train or not to train. Four: I punish myself, if only vaguely, for my lack of support. Five: guilt paralyzes my cerebral cortex -- I’m guessing here -- and upsets my hormonal balance. And, six, assessing and analyzing them and me gives me a headache and I, thus, seven, lose my focus and pump. I’m a wreck.
I think I need a layoff, but I’m opposed to such a waste of time and effort. Let’s see. Where was I? After 1400 words I lose my train of thought and expect no one is reading anymore anyway, so what diff does it make? And since 1500 is my goal, I’ll just tap away at whatever keys get in the way.
If overtraining is your rational for taking a juicy layoff, I strongly suggest you reaffirm your evaluation of overtraining. Sometimes it’s simple fatigue from good hard training and we need to improve our anabolic environment with right eating and sound rest. Repair and recuperation are major processes and require our devoted attention. Bomber Blend, Super Spectrim and lots of sleep are good for the bones and muscles, the aches and energy levels, the strength and the mood.
I tend to overtrain occasionally and find backing off my training intensity for a day or two cures the ailment. If that doesn’t do it, I shift gears and take a long weekend, or one of those outer-limit, as-long-as-I-can-stand-it four-day layoffs we spoke of earlier. During that time I eat, sleep, wallow and play. I also consider my training methodology and redesign my workouts to suit my intelligence, my physical needs and my instincts, the latter leading the architectural team.
Yeah, I have a team working around the clock for me. They never rest: wise guys, goofballs, whackos, clowns, boneheads, bombers... and I gotta feed them and keep them out of trouble.
I’ll be doing chins and dips in hangar seven. Doors open, come on in. My rig is undergoing a tune-up and oil change.
Full throttle, up flaps... the Drapes
God’s speed.
PS... If you ever get the urge to layoff, take a long look in the mirror and take it. You’re not the prisoner; you’re the guard.
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One of the most enjoyable and distracting ways to entertain yourself in the gym during an off-time is to change your workouts radically. Pick two or three big movements and a couple of active rest exercises and string them together, circling the gym floor six or eight or ten times until you're breathing hard and feeling full of it. Dave develops this further in his article on slumpbusters; here's a link where you'll find a handful of sample exercise combinations that will make your body sing.
If you need a little expansion on the above article, in particular to cover plateaus and overtraining, Dave's written about that, too.
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