Gym Talk

 

I don't have time to talk in the gym, or I guess I should say I don't make time to. That doesn't seem to stop people from talking to me though!

It was Saturday morning, leg day and one of my hardest sessions. I start with abs because I hate training abs, it seems like such a waste of time in my mind so it is very easy to wait until the end, then all of a sudden find I am out of time, so, I guess I can't train them.

Good excuse huh? So to prevent that I train the suckers first! See who is smarter now!

Then I move to my deadlifts. I must admit deadlifts are impressive to watch, and when a woman is doing them, they are even more impressive.

There is a fellow who talks to me every morning, just for a moment but I still have to pull the ear buds out of my ears to hear him. He is 70 or maybe even older. What does he say?

"I have the flat bench set up for you"

Every time I see him, which is about 4 days a week! Seems all he does is bench press on the smith. Probably a good place for a guy that age to do bench alone don't you think?

I rarely use the smith and when I do, it's not for bench. I just smile and thank him.

He is a plastic surgeon, the same one who said to me a few years ago:

"You should come see me. Your face should be in the same century as your body."

Guess he thinks I have a pretty smoking body, or a pretty nasty face. Maybe both, I am not sure. Anyway, he doesn't think he said anything wrong and he loves to comment on the changes my physique makes, telling me when he thinks I am looking better than other times. He even said once "Did you just tan? Looks good on you"

Today after he told me the flat bench was ready for me he wanted to talk about me again.

Doctor: "You're looking good"
Kristy: "That's cause I'm losing all my body fat"
Doctor: "Well don't lose the body"
Kristy: "No worries, I won't"

Then he asked me why he couldn't progress on his bench, not even a measly 5 pounds.

I pointed to my head and said "It's all in your head. You can progress, but your brain won't let you"

He said "really?" then went on to tell me a story from his youth about a big weight training guy who couldn't bench more than 290. ever (seems like an impressive amount to me though...perhaps he cannot accurately recall the weight).

So, since this was so long ago, before the common use of cell phones, this fellow got a call from his wife, so he had to rack the weight and go to the front desk to take the call. When he was gone, his buddies added more weight to the bar, bringing it over his max.

Seems he had no trouble pressing it up, he thought it was his regular weight.

I told him that I believe the story, I believe in the power of our brains as the strongest muscle we own. He nodded his head and said maybe I was right after all.

He then pointed to my loaded bar, told me he wanted to see me lift before he went. I already had my chalk on my hands, my straps dangling from my wrists and I plugged in my my ear buds.

I knocked out 10 deadlifts and put the bar down.

He had a huge smile on his face, said "Wow! Impressive! Now I can enjoy the rest of my day! Make sure you tell me when your show is, I wanna come see you!"

And off he toddled....

Things like this seem surreal to me and yet they motivate me in some sick and twisted way. It does seem an odd way to be motivated, but it makes me laugh and smile at the fact someone feels comfortable enough to make such personal comments to me, critique me, chat me up,  and I stand there and listen.

Then I lift.


Late Addition:

I need to append to this blog. I typically write them a few days in advance, as this one was. On Monday after work I pull into the gym parking lot to do my cardio and who do I see standing there but this doctor and some other fellow.

I had the top down and I shouted out "Hey, are you saving a parking space for me?!"  he waived and said "sure, hold on".


Then he walked over and looked at me and said "Are you the gal from the morning? What's your name?"

"Yes" I replied, "It's Kristy, I look a little better when I go to work" and he just looked at me and then went to his car. As he pulled out, and I pulled in, I brought my window down and took off my sunglasses to thank him (the lot was completely full).

He looked at me again with a look of sheer awe and appeared dumbfounded. He then said "You're gorgeous! You are a knockout!!" "I will be here tomorrow"

I threw my head back and laughed loudly and thanked him, he drove off still looking a little shocked.

I changed and climbed up on the stairmill, smiling the entire time, feeling really good. I guess I don't need to carry that brown paper bag to put over my head any longer.