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Getting Older is a Laugh a Minute - 02-27-2008

Getting Older is a Laugh a Minute


Leap year: We have an extra day this month to get huge and ripped.
Time is muscle! I shall take advantage of the cosmic windfall and do
nothing but squats, deadlifts and bench presses this Friday from
sunrise to sunset. No order, just random, hysterical lifting.

I remember when that sort of spontaneous, combustible and delirious
training was common: Sprint to the gym, dive into a pile of warm and
welcoming 45s in your Speedos from atop the squat rack and thrash
around jubilantly; chew on the 100-lb dumbbells like a Rottweiler on a
juicy t-bone; juggle three 25-pound plates instead of your everyday
lateral raises for deltoids; and dip with a greasy engine block
dangling from your waist.

Bombing and blasting: What fun!

Today I park close to the gym's rear doorway (I prefer the rear access
'cuz a bright red sign reading Exit clearly points to it immediately
upon entering). I need all the reassurance I can get. I'm exhausted!
Eight giant steps from the parking lot tarmac to the gym floor... what
does management not understand about escalators? I slither to the
first non-threatening bench and take a load off my feet. There I
rummage through my gym bag for the necessary items to sustain the mad
workout ahead. No rush.

The bag's become heavy and worn over the years and I consider getting
a new one, a larger one, on wheels, like those travelers tote about at
airports. I remove and pile my vital gear at my side and take a quick
inventory: Wraps aren't sufficient lately, the Handi-Splint Kit is far
more effectual; injectable morphine, no easy score, beats Tylenol
hands down; portable defibrillator, oxygen canister, ammonium nitrate,
water and chalk... all set.

Or, all fired up and ready to go, as they say on the ole campaign
trail.

I stand, hold on, stare into space and twitch several times, a quaint
practice similar to divining. Messages are sent through the central
nervous system, as far as I can tell, and it is clear as crystal that
today is arm day. I shiver with excitement, involuntarily resume my
place on the bench and have a refreshing swig of water. Show time.

I retrieve my Bomber's Bodybuilder's Manual and look up arm exercises
under biceps and triceps. Do I bomb both muscles on one day, or do I
blast them on separate days; how many sets and how many reps; how much
effort and in what order? Gets complicated, but no one said this stuff
was easy. You've gotta be tough, intuitive and highly motivated to be
a true musclebuilder, serious and determined and gifted.

I jest in friendly self-mockery. I'm still at my keyboard and the
first front of a fierce rainstorm has just reached our rooftop. Hope
the plastic tarps secured with ten-pound plates hold fast... so far,
so good. My right hand throbs and resembles a battered softball with
puffy sausages protruding in various directions reaching for those
tiny keys. My once-a-year gout flare-up is fading after a weeklong
siege. Sweet. It's these things and the threat of losing power that
has me painting ludicrous computeresque pictures this Sunday in
broad-shouldered strokes.

I laugh at defeat when it dares knock on my door. "Get ye behind me,
Satan. You'll find no subscribers here," is my declaration. Which
reminds me; I'm writing a newsletter for a bunch of highly motivated
people who want to develop muscle, discard fat, increase power and
improve their health -- not read the pointless ramblings of a wet,
rusting and gout-ridden ironhead. Where's the beef?

Thought you'd never ask... anyone for a teensy hotdog on a toothpick?

Here's a list of exercise alternatives and modifications I've
discovered, invented and been obliged to adapt recently to accommodate
limitations due to injuries and years, needs and abilities.

Yeah, they're tough subjects to breech, but somebody's gotta do it.

Believe it or not, as we grow older and reach a certain age of
maturity, we (yes, even bombers) diminish in muscle and strength,
joint health and flexibility, energy and endurance, resistance and
that happy-go-lucky-life-is-grand-bring-it-on attitude. This is not a
conspiracy, as some think, and, no, it's not a superstition; it's a
cold and ruthless scientific fact.

Most folks grow old kicking and screaming, rejecting its cruel
demands. Some accept aging gracefully and comply with its requests
(ha); some of us, strong in heart and wide in wing, fight the good
fight, defending our stronghold, reinforcing our structure, fortifying
our provisions, protecting our wellbeing, mending our wounds,
minimizing deterioration and preventing incursion. We rally, we choose
not to submit.

The process, like building muscle and might, is done gradually and
painstakingly. It's part of the great journey -- the part when the
pedal-to-the-metal is removed from the gas and applied to the brakes.
We're slowin' this baby down before she winds up in a ditch. One more
turn like that and it's the junkyard, Buster, between the Packard and
Nash Rambler. We've been where we were going; it's time now to cruise
and amuse.

I'm hyperbolizing, bombers. We're all about the same age, 15 to 75,
which, in the scheme of things, is just a moment. It's time we let the
tricks out of the bag. Adjustments, alterations, eliminations,
reductions and tuning and dialing are on-going. They are accomplished
through compromise in utilized weight, modification in form (AKA
standard exercise execution), focus on pain as the major guide from
first to last rep, pace according to muscle exertion to achieve
maximum pump and burn, order in the mind and routine to overcome
irregularities (AKA sloppy, chaotic and compromised performance)...
and variation and variety and volume and verve and vanity and vava
vavoom.

I'm killing time 'cuz I hate to describe exercise execution...
Boorring. Here we go:

> Thick-bar bench, any grip that is least painful or most rewarding
will do. Wide grip kills me, so I stay close and tight with the tris
and delt regions benefiting most. So you can't go heavy anymore, but
the action is there. Make the most of it. Overall upper torso is
grateful. Smile, be happy!

> Leaning barbell curls are a treat for the bis and save the lower
back when we find ourselves thrusting with excess oomph and pain. That
lower back squeals till it's warmed up and we then tend to overuse and
aggravate the region. Tomorrow we sing the blues; next year we need a
laminectomy.

Try this: lean your butt against a solidly racked bar (best) or a post
and curl with a thus-minimized thrusting action, and make the bis do
the work. Saves the back on the eccentric and concentric, yet has no
mercy on the biceps.

> Tilting dumbbell curls accomplish a similar purpose -- enable a
satisfactory big-muscle thrust while saving the back, maintain balance
when balance is problematic and enjoy muscle focus.

Stand before a secured bench and bend knees sufficiently to lean
stably on the bench edge. Curl thumbs-up (my favorite), palms forward
or alternately. It's a whole new experience to the curl and associated
engaged muscles. These movements take time, experimentation, finesse
and a positive approach.

> Extended sets are the three or four sets of six sets of six reps of
related exercises in one set, which I've recommended in the past few
months. They justify using those light dumbbells at the silly end of
the rack, and they accomplish a lot of muscle work and appreciation in
a short period of precious time.

Why do We Workout?

> Thank heaven for the Smith Press. I hate it when I see guys and gals
doing cleans and presses on the platform I built. Cruel envy. But, I
can still get deltoid action out of the Smith Press without collapsing
into a heap. Front presses, press behind neck, inclines. Works for me.
And don't give me that sissy stuff, Louie the Lug. If you're lucky,
Louie, your day will come.

At this moment my eyes are crossed and I'm sticking my tongue out at
ya'll in disdain. Talk about growin' up...

> Widegrip pulldowns to behind the neck, while seated with the back to
the apparatus has a definite upper-back accent. Not only that, it's a
relief for those poor insertions that are overly tugged upon during
the ever-popular frontal approach. Try it. With a lighter weight, sit
at the end of the seat, positioning you away from the overhead pulley.
Stretch your legs forward, or assume a seated staggered-leg placement
(my fav) and proceed. Look for full extension at the top and a tight
contraction on the bottom. Wide Lat Stamp of Approval. Form counts.

> The one-hand, sidearm dumbbell raise from the back or the front of
the torso is the secret alternative to the typical two-hand variation.
Sidearm laterals ensure shoulder function and health and are
indispensable in full deltoid construction, shape and definition.

It happens not uncommonly that one deltoid becomes traumatized and
cannot sustain balanced-body movements. We work around the pain and do
our best to avoid medical intervention. So what else is new? Lateral
raises are particularly awkward and aggravating, the body contorting
to maintain two disagreeable grooves, each at the expense of the
other. Ugly... laterals go south with the wind.

Do this: Grab a ten-pounder (+ or -) with your left hand and a sturdy
upright with your right. Lean away slightly from the upright -- a
five-degree tilt -- and raise the dumbbell from your extended side to
a tightly contracted head-high position. Lower with resistance to the
starting point and repeat 6, 8, 10 times.

The starting point can be a designated place behind the hips (front
delt accent), or a place from before the torso (side and rear delt
accent). Focus, form and finesse required. You are wise to develop
these single-arm actions, as they are exhilarating and productive.
They follow their own groove painlessly (almost) and add to your lot.

I'm down to three loyal, bleary-eyed readers. Everyone else has gone
home, to bed, to dinner, the movies, the john... I can take a hint.
I'm winding up my bi-plane and rolling down the runway. Got a thermos
full of Bomber Blend (tastes good and it's good for ya), a tank full
of fuel and a wing full of wind... make that two. Gonna catch me a
sunset...

Never look back. It's done.

God's Speed... da D

Source: davedraper.com


You enter this world small and weak.You leave this world small and weak.What you look like in between is up to YOU!
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Disclaimer: TrainWiser.Com do not promote the use of anabolic steroids without a doctor's prescription. The information we share is for entertainment purposes only.
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02-27-2008

Great post!


DEMONSWEAT

GOD, GRANT ME THE SERENITY TO ACCEPT THE THINGS I CANNOT CHANGE, THE COURAGE TO CHANGE THE THINGS I CAN AND THE WISDOM TO KNOW THE DIFFERENCE.

KEEP YOUR CYCLES SIMPLE AND GET CREATIVE WITH YOUR DIET!
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