Don't Hold Your Breath

Although my body was not feeling up to the task, I convinced myself to do another set of ten. So with my back planted on a weight bench in my gym, I grunted disproportionately to the small dumbbell my arms lifted overhead. Suddenly from the far end of the gym, I glimpsed the blur of a Super-sized man approaching my reclined position. A pair of massive Popeye forearms snatched the 30 lb. dumbbell from my grasp in the middle of my exercise routine. Not comfortable with the brazen maneuver, I jerked upright to see if this were some kind of prank from somebody I knew. I did not know the guy before me, who owned only more muscles than tattoos. Without introduction, the man told me to lie back down so he could show me something. I strangely complied. I then watched his hands manipulate thirty pounds of weight easier than a sixth grader twirling a pencil in between fingers.

“You will get more range of motion in your extension if you cup your hands like this on the weight.”

After he finished modeling proper technique, he returned the dumbbell to me. Then he took the liberty of repositioning my hands into proper alignment.

“There. Feel the difference?” he asked.

“I’ll give it a try.” I offered.

“And don’t hold your breath this time.”

Taken back by his forwardness to weigh in on the moment, I completed two more sets before rendering technical judgment. I dropped the weights to the padded floor and sat upright again. The same man now tended to his own business moving Herculean 45 lb. plates on each side of a bench press barbell.

“Yeah, there was less torque on my arms. It felt more natural.” I agreed. “Thanks for the tip.”

“You’re welcome.” He replied.

I have been known to ask one question too many too many times and this time was no different.

“Hey, who taught you how to do it that way?”

“Convicts. I did five the hard way at Rahway prison.”

I’m not holding my breath but I want this to be the last time an ex-convict tells me to lie down, cup my hands, and comply.