Count Thy Blessings,
Lest You Forget
Sometimes one must force oneself to rest and relax. A day off might be worth two in the gym, if the body is tired and overtrained. How would I know? The only days I take off from the gym are days that are engaged with obligations elsewhere: a business trip, travel time, a responsibility to a special occasion (wedding, funeral, invasive surgery). Enough! I decided to live dangerously, on the edge, as they say.
Such a pretty day. I wandered in the downtown garden and chose a lone bench upon which to sit and count my blessings. We do this too infrequently and thereby miss our daily riches as they swirl about us in profusion. The sun was warm and rejuvenating upon my shoulders and only a butterfly dared to intrude upon the still silence. The setting was as perfect as the day, a weathered wooden perch amid a shower of blooming roses.
As I sat, humbly aware of the rarity of such unburdened occasions in my life, the left rear leg of the charming old bench dislodged, sending me tumbling riotously on my backside among nipping brier. Truth be known, I fell on my arse in a lousy patch of thorny weeds and I was ripping mad. Four-letter expletives flowed from my mouth like sewage from a third-world creek -- rats, ouch, darn, nuts, jeez, grrr -- as I thrashed about, a frenzied hippo ensnared in a barbed trap.
Regaining my senses, I picked myself up, brushed myself off and assessed the condition of the tenderly cared-for soil where my bruised body lay flailing only moments ago. What a mess; looked like a four-wheeler got stuck in the terrain and struggled desperately to get free. Nobody’s lookin’. I uprighted the stinking bench and stuck the stupid leg where it belonged, kicked the up-rooted grounds with my sneaks to restore its well-tended look and propped up the mangled rose bush to look like a rose bush.
As I limped from the scene of the crime -- catastrophe, accident, lesson in life, whatever -- removing thorns from my hands, elbows and rear, I recalled the gentle mission that drew me to the park: reverie and sweet appreciation. I laughed out loud and said to no one, "Well, that went up in flames." The fiery heat subsided, I regained my composure and the path ahead became clear.
I may stumble, but I don’t grumble. I might slip, but I won’t flip. I flail, but never fail. Down I go, yet I’ll not stay low. I might fall now and then, but I stand tall again... and again.
My blessings are stored at the gym, stacks of iron and steel await my attention and here am I, extricating thorns from my body after rolling about a thicket in the garden of doom. Have I lost my dumbbells? I’ve got sets to count, reps to tally and iron to move by the pounds and tens of pounds... thousands before the day ends.
Therein lay the blessings of this life on earth; within the sets of repetitions and pounds of crude metal doth my rewards, gifts and treasures lie. Brief pause: I wonder if I hit my head on a sizable rock while bottoms-up among the rosebuds and daisies? Very possible.
Something’s missing in my personality -- my nature, behavior, reactions and responses, attitude, essence, inner balance -- when I miss a workout. I don’t fall apart, I just drift away. The ground beneath my feet becomes unsound, like I’m walking on cotton. Air surrounds me, but it doesn’t fill my lungs or brush across my forehead. Thoughts come and go, their movements like hands on a clock showing the wrong time. I hear a hum in my brain that I don’t otherwise hear... hmmm... when the weights are bearing down emphatically upon my muscles.
A phenomenon, not frightening, just strange. More proof of my observation.
I received sufficient notice that I was on call for jury duty this week, my time thus parceled out to the county court system for civic service. Be there at 11AM.
I’m big on civil service. I have three or four aliases, as many fake addresses and a number of false IDs and social security cards. I don’t know how they find me, but they do. Every two years my name comes up and off I go -- to court and before a judge to, yet again, talk my way out of my responsibilities as a citizen.
Your honor, I’m on life support and it’s a hardship at this time to serve... Judge, as an undercover secret agent assigned to Iran and North Korea, it’s inconvenient at this time to perform... Oh, Honorable sir in flowing black robe, who am I? How did I get here?
Monday morning I woke up hovering, a body without a soul, as defendants, prosecutors and judges balanced justice in the scales. What was I to do? I could work out before the jury appointment, but that would be, ironically, a crime in itself. This old body cannot withstand the wee-hour iron beating. I could train after the clerk announces the court’s decisions, but that could be at day’s end when the gym is full of bleeping bodybuilders using my reserved equipment.
I continued to hover. I was hovering as I sat in the stark room among 48 other potential jurors -- my peers, I guess you could say -- and I hovered when the clerk entered to make her timely announcement. She was thirtyish and looked innocent enough. We looked up from typical high school desks wearing expressions of typical high schoolers, a mix of defiant and expectant. "The authorities involved in this week’s criminal hearing have just now resolved the situation out of court. You are free of your jury duty for two years."
I wanted to do something special for the city clerk, compliment her, give her fine jewels, lakefront property. I smiled and said goodbye. I felt a teensy bit guilty, as if I had cheated the system, stolen city street signs or sprayed graffiti on the Highway 1, Route 17 overpass -- BOMBERS RULE.
I got over it and headed to the gym, the same gym I had resigned myself to ignore for the entire week. Gasp! I hadn’t felt lucky and the week before me looked bleak. I in fact started to feel small, vulnerable and sluggish some days ago, the symptoms of an unscheduled layoff settling in my system prematurely at the invitation of a weak and simple mind. No workouts for seven days, agh… the power of suggestion. It didn’t take a crowbar to flip the situation over.
I was out of my jury-selection clothes and in my gym rags in seconds. I walked the gym floor like it was the palace over which I ruled. I wasn’t being a jerk, mind you. I was too humbled by the day’s events to be a jerk. I just strutted on the inside. Besides, I was in my usual time frame -- hallelujah -- and the palace was nearly empty.
I sat back on the incline bench and reviewed my surroundings, as I applied DMSO to my wrist (old school to the bone). I don’t need to pause to count my treasures. I was savoring my unplanned presence in the gym, blessing number one. Anything I do is better than nothing, which is what I expected, blessing number two. I knew why I was here, blessing number three, and decided to make a list of 10 one-liners of five words or less called 10 Important Facts about Training, or 10 Blessings Once Applied:
1) Be regular, be consistent
2) Train hard, focused and determined
3) Be hopeful, never doubt
4) Pursue no secrets, no shortcuts
5) Rely on the basic exercises
6) Remember, there is nothing new
7) Training includes right eating -- protein
8) Training includes right lifestyle -- rest
9) Use your strong body/mind
10) Never, ever quit, train always
Another list of one-liners under five words unfolded, as lists often do in my order-seeking, fact-proving mind (also known as missing, scattered, full of baloney, empty of original thought). The Importance of Training, or 10 Iron Blessings:
1) Good health and physical conditioning
2) Strong muscles, toned and shapely
3) Resistance to injury and illness
4) Healthy self-esteem and confidence
5) Overcoming of guilt and neglect
6) Respect of those around you
7) Ongoing growth of discipline, character
8) Internal strength, patience, perseverance, courage
9) Long life with quality, wisdom
10) Builds lasting friendships
I was on a roll. There are also fringe benefits, bombers. You get 10:
1) Free parking in Hangar # 7
2) Copious encouragement from serious bombers
3) A place to speak up, express yourself and ask questions
4) Bomber Blend, smart reading and unique personal equipment -- thick handles and bars and Top Squat -- at the ole store
5) Directions leading to the horizons seldom visited (aka, info)
6) Cautions against misleading recommendations by charlatans and fools and greedy hipsters
7) Lessons in long-distance flying, daredevil stunts and precision bombing
8) Tips on keeping the tank full and the oil clean
9) Maintenance advice; ailerons and elevators, shoulders and back -- how to care for, strengthen, build up and repair
10) Constant counsel and reminders of who we are and why we do what we do
The dark blue on the distant horizon is night heading our way and I’m sputtering on reserve. We’ve run out of sky for another day. See ya on the ground.
-----
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.
The DVD includes a one-hour-and-fifteen-minute tape of the July seminar, two muscular slide shows, plus a 32-page booklet outlining the subsequent interview between the mighty one, Bill Pearl, and me in which we discuss some favorite subjects untouched by the seminar.
To order your copy of the Bash 05 Seminar dvd with Dave and Bill Pearl click here.
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