Muscle and Fitness
Today, Tomorrow and Forever
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What’s an aarp, or, rather, where is Aarp. The first time I heard the word without the option of ignoring it was earlier this year when a man rang the house and announced he was calling regarding aarp. He sounded pleasant and sincere, and not wanting to be rude or dismissive, I said, “Cool. Isn’t that a seaport in northeastern New Zealand?” He said no. I shot back, “It’s a small furry animal native to the planes of Australia.” I was sure it had something to do with the down-under. It’s always good to display your intelligence and savvy to strangers calling you on your home phone... keeps ‘em off-balance. He said no, again.
“An affliction not unlike belching and similar to hiccups,” I persisted. I was into it.
Upon discovering aarp was not an animal, place or thing, but AARP, the huge association of Americans over the age of 50, I automatically said, “I gave at the office.” Wrong again. The gentleman was contacting me to arrange a personal interview with the organization’s staff writer, John Hanc. I was invited to appear in AARP’s colorful monthly magazine, “a short personal profile, Mr. Draper, with you offering fitness advice to America’s maturing adults.”
I blinked. Not GQ, not Men’s Fitness, On Fitness or Muscle and Fitness, IronMan or Muscle Digest. Not TDM, Today’s Dashing Male. I maturely, yet hesitantly concluded we all age sometime; I might as well give it a shot. “Sure,” I said with magnanimity and courage, and an imperceptible quiver in my voice, “I can do that. Over 50, huh?”
Well, bombers, the article is done and they sent a two-man photography team from LA to complete the photo layout this week. We provided them with stacks of old stuff, but “we want shots of the Drapers today, as if breathing on the very pages they grace.”
Laree’s jaw dropped when the photo editor said Drapers, like plural with an S. I grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her vigorously. “We can do this, girl” I said, searching for life in her eyes, “I’ll be with you every step of the way. It’s you and me, kid.”
We did what we could do to prepare for the photo session, which is nothing other than fret, grieve, worry, stress and groan. 24 hours is not much notice, thanks. They, Mike and Ben, arrived late morning and were setting up lights when I walked into The Weight Room. Laree was shopping the mall and sports shops for undersized tank tops without logos for me and something besides jeans without holes for her.
Weeks ago we offered to save AARP time and money by shooting the needed pictures ourselves. “Laree can handle a camera like Earnhardt can handle a car.” They saw through my scheme and said thanks, but no thanks. These old folks are sharper than I thought.
The day was fun; we worked hard, shared the experience with two neat pros and never flinched. Two hours at the gym looking goofy under the lights and two hours like gofers in the redwoods around our house. You survive a thing and rejoice. Thank God! But the larger thing to survive is the publication of the pictures before a potential audience of 23 million. Will they -- the photos -- be a horror show, a small wrinkly embarrassment, or simply another achy day in the acquiescing world of aging under pressure... and the lens of a camera?
The day of reckoning is the first week of October when the magazine floods the mail. I’ll be on an oil rig off the coast of Venezuela. Laree, of course, will look stunning.
There’s an upside to the catastrophe. Though I have not read the article, it is by a talented Newsday writer who does a fine job of gathering words and telling a story. Of the 23,000,000 AARP members receiving the magazine in the mail, perhaps half will keep it. Of that 11.5 mil, another half will skim it. Of that five-plus million, some will stumble across the grinning image of an old muscle guy (and his lovely companion) and say, “Hey, I know that dude. That’s what’s-his-name. I thought he was younger.” And, finally, a small handful will read the words, grasp the message and put it into practice. The world is saved one life at a time.
Another upside: If one out of 100,000 join IronOnline, we will have a whopping 230 additional bombers to soar, glide and consort with. You’ve gotta think big. I won’t even consider what it could mean if a few ingest the contents of Brother Iron or a tub of Bomber Blend: renewed life, energy, health, purpose and longevity.
Laree and I are going to prepare an opening page on davedraper.com for any AARPers who decide to head our way. We’ll welcome them warmly and offer them an understandable and seductive digest of the essentials to good health, muscle and might as one enters the wonderful world of iron exercise. Let’s face it, bombers, it’s the same stuff we know and practice regularly and have been since we were little squirts... of sorts. We’ll direct the curious and bold to links that discuss fitness and nutrition issues of particular interest to men and women over 50. And we’ll encourage and inspire them ‘cuz that’s what we as a group of high flyers do best.
Well, so much for aging; back to staying young where we belong. Aging is for those who sit around and think of yesterday while today is passing them by. Aging happens when the weights rust and gather dust in the garage, basement or under the bed, out of sight and of mind. Those who sit on couches and recliners with their fists in bowls of something gooey and chewy are aging, not those whose hands are full of dumbbells and barbells and mouths are full of protein. The latter are growing, learning and gaining, grinning and scheming. Look out! I’m coming up from the rear and passing you on the outside... the inside... over your head. See ya later, alligator.
So much for moving on; my mind has done a loop and is back on the 50-plus track. “What,” I ask myself, “is the most compelling problem, or challenge, facing those heartened individuals interested in getting in shape? Is it setting a goal? No, the goal is already there -- getting on shape. Of course, it takes on various forms and descriptions: losing weight, gaining muscle, increasing strength, looking and feeling fit and improving cardio efficiency and general health. And at the onset each aim is approached the same: exercise, eat right and be positive... and strong, cheerful, thankful, focused and so on.
Is it patience? Teens have a patience problem. They’re taught to expect what they want, now; even less-than-mature adults fall for that line of bull. Patience, I believe is, or certainly should be, established by this stage of the game.
Perhaps that’s the big problem, that many think this life thing is just a game. He who dies with the most toys wins. Eat live and be merry for tomorrow you shall die. Life is a roll of the dice. Win or come in last. No, I don’t think so. Those who stagger past the 50-year line seldom declare life is a game. They might put on a good show, shoulder pads in place, but the smudges, bruises and fatigue register the seriousness of the matter. Age has a way of humbling life’s participants.
Is it the exercise? Nah! The exercise program is simple and enjoyable when introduced with spirit and encouragement and empathy. We’ve got those goods in the palms of our hands, and the possessive words -- we and our -- includes you and me. This is a bombing expedition, you know, not a one-man sweep. Exercise and time will present a low stumbling block, but we’ll drag them over it as they give it their best willing effort. On three, oomph! Now you’ve got it. Again. One, two, three... ugh! You’re lookin’ good.
How about discipline and guts? I’m always fumbling for these keys to success and I’m not alone. We seem to lose them running frantically from our responsibilities and obligations. Time does temper us and hopefully the two keys are fastened securely to our wrists with equally tempered chain.
What, then, is the foremost problem? I’m concerned about perseverance, or old-fashioned stick-to-itiveness: the will to push the iron, lift the steel and carry the load beyond today, tomorrow and the next. Too often the sharp image of the goal fades before a real impression is achieved. The mind’s eye wanders and the grand intentions slip. A day between training -- exercise and smart eating -- becomes a week. A week becomes two. Without consistency the goal is never grasped.
This sounds like a physical thing -- and it is -- but it is more a mind-and-soul thing, and a matter of friendly persuasion and education and inspiration. They must learn to fly and see the sky. We can do this, they can do this and together we shall.
Another idea would be offering free trips to Bermuda to those who fill out our Bomber’s Miles in the Sky form and send in a before-and-after picture (untouched by Adobe Photoshop) and 10 dollars.
Is 10 bucks enough, too much?
Have you filled your air-o-plane’s gas tank lately? I’m working on recycling Bomber Blend tubs and converting the extracted resource into fuel... keep ya posted. Zoom!
God’s strength and speed... Bomber D----
BELIEVE IT OR NOT
Ever since the Pearl-Draper seminar dvd hit the market, stocks have gone up considerably around the world. Gym memberships have grown, and those with existing memberships have crowded the doors. Health food businesses are flourishing and people across the nations are eating more conscientiously. Obesity and associated diseases are on the decline. Families are participating in energetic sports and recreational activities, drug use among teens has diminished and crime is down.
Join the feel-good phenomenon; support the remarkable upsurge in global spirits and wellbeing. Send for your P/D DVD today, along with your order of Bomber Blend and Super Spectrim vitamins, and keep the material in which they are wrapped free of charge.
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.
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