Flix, Flax, Flux, Flex
Dr. Ken Leistner: Training Methodologies of the 1960s
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I just tidied up my workspace, cleaned the computer screen and keyboard and am testing the equipment to see if the words flow faster, easier and with (this is pushing it) more value and amusement.
Let’s see. The above paragraph took half the morning to imagine, write, rewrite, correct, finesse and spell check. Not bad. At this rate, should I think of something worthy to communicate (Biceps Bombing Yes!), I’ll be on schedule for print May 1st.
"I Missed A Workout!!" (Abrupt exclamation)
I just blurted that out without restraint and I seriously did not intend to upset you, embarrass you, strain your immediate inclination to comfort me, or place you in the awkward position of judging me. Let’s just forget the whole thing place. It was tempestuous and self-centered. I shall never blurt again, okay? Okay!
"I Was Listless!!" (Sullen utterance)
Rats, rats, rats... I promised to refrain from rambunctiously elaborating on my despicable and outrageous failure as a dedicated muscle warrior. It’s done. It’s over. Move on. I shall do 10 sets x 100 almighty rope tucks before nightfall as -- what's it called again? -- penance.
Long ago when I trained in the Dungeon, a creepy resident lifter suggested muscleheads work out because they are ashamed and sinful and feel they must work hard to pay for their egregious ways. I should be as pure as the driven snow by now.
When you miss a training session, bombers, do you react by fretting, abusing yourself and your neighbors and training twice as hard, twice as long the next time you’re in the gym, which is, like, the very next day? Do you become pathetic? Do your muscles droop? Does your belly sag? Yeah, tell me about it, pal.
Later this day I shall march directly to the gym, physically armed and psychologically fortified, and engage in battle, a battle I’ve yet to lose. Having no plan, only courage, might and determination in my heart, I shall take the enemy by surprise. His retreat will be empowering.
"I Don’t Want To Go To The Gym!!" (Petulant pout)
Arrghh... not again... I didn’t mean that juvenile burst of emotion, bombers. Going to the gym is my joy, my jewel, my purpose, my calling. Besides, have you not heard? I already missed one workout.
Confused say, “One workout missed is one’s workouts mist.”
I’m carbing up, suiting up and prepping my gear. Though spontaneous combustion amid the iron is the most effective mode of attack these days, I continue to reference my all-knowing subconscious to reveal my secret needs and possibilities.
Silent partner contribution: light on legs (grouchy knees), dumbbell presses for shoulder health and strength (you've been neglectful), riveting rope-tuck core work (senior delight: high reps provide muscle endurance -- lots of tugging for recruitment of bis and lats -- custom reaching, extending and contracting to blissfully engage muscles established in the recent 50 years).
The countdown has begun: One billion minus one, one billion minus two...
Amid 30 idle minutes on the deck to absorb some restorative rays, cunning rises. A plan unfolds to outwit my reluctance to attend the brute halls of iron and submit to its stern instruction. Slurping generous portions of desiccated liver blended with egg whites topped with dried fish flakes, I whimsically consider cruising by Gold’s Gym this afternoon and casually dropping in to see what’s up. "Hi, guys. Wassup?" Grasping a pair of light dumbbells in a most perfunctory manner, I'll perform a nonchalant rep and, one thing leading feverishly to another, won't stop till the entire workout is done.
Huh! What the? Did you see that? Wow! A workout absent anguish, anxiety and agitation; pruned of prejudice, paranoia and perplexity; devoid of doubt, despair and deltoids... I'll miss deltoids.
I just returned from the slaughter house. I worked hard: perfect sets, exact reps, excellent execution, superior focus, precision pace, incomparable exertion, faultless timing.
Not bad. I'll do better next time. I shall never miss another workout. But if I do, I won't suffer you my guilt, shame and self-loathing.
Just kidding!
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