Well, I got a workout story. I’m training at my new clubhouse gym, its OK but the multipurpose machine only goes to 180, so stacking benches and pulldowns isnt so great, getting lots of reps in. I decide, in order to get a better burn, to do “Joe Weider Giant Sets,”, doing one big set of pulldowns, benches, cable rows and machine flyes without stopping. Actually quite a pump maker.
So after my second giant set this dude comes in, about 40, dressed in immaculate workout gear, and led into the gym by a hardbodied, cute personal trainer. She leads him around like a dog, doing lunges, swiss ball, oned hand pushups and some things I dont even know what to call. I find this mildly amusing, enjoy a glance at the trainer, but otherwise turn up my ipod so I dont have to hear about “core this and core that.”
Now, the annoying part. This gym weenie wants to interrupt my giant sets, and wants to do cable rows. Except HE doesnt have the balls to ask, the trainer does! I say OK. Now he really irritates me by doing 20 v e r y s l o w reps with about 30 lbs, huffing and puffing and acting like he is THE MAN. He has now crossed into full gym weenie status. When I follow, midway through my fourth giant set, I do twelve reps with the 180, its so easy and I think Barry would kick my ass for even wasting my time at this weight, so I just drop off one hand, and do 12 more with just my left, switch over and do 12 with my right. And I do them SLOWLY. Well, this was perfect, actually quite hard, and completely dispirited the gym weenine and he asked the trainer to move on to the next excercise with ten pound dumbells.
Am I a Meanie? Hah, I dont care, I got to find my fun where I can get it, and the trainer smiled at me so I knew it was worth it. Doc