On Working Out and A few Little things

It’s been 3 weeks since I started. But I’d be lying to you if I didn’t tell you that I’ve been working on in my mind for about 500 years.

Say that i’m lying. You’d see what happens next.

Ripped body, full biceps, carved chest, chiseled legs, rock-solid eight packs, and everything in between. I’ve thought of them all, now standing in front of a mirror, like a certain President, there’s little to show off.

It had never occurred to me that humans love the idea more than the process until I hit the gym.

The journey started on the 10th of June 2021, if my memory serves me right. The gym subjects you to a numbing pain that you’d hardly think clearly as though your brain as some sort of coping mechanism does calisthenics, I’ll explain;

It usually happens on the last set when the barbell has taken Its toll on your arms and you find it harder to push the barbell high enough to save your life. You start out counting from 1, 2, 3, 7, 8, 10.

My trainer, how many reps have you done?

Jaded, I’d reply, 10

Is that how you count?

The first week is the hardest, when lifting your form is bad even after countless corrections. I contend with something much heavier than myself, form will come naturally, later as I progress, at least my trainer agrees with me on that one.

With a single plate, I managed a measly two sets on the first day with 5 reps across. Nothing is more embarrassing than seeing your new comrades pushing a weight 10 x heavier with relative ease. I wonder when I will get there. I’m here still, years off from getting to that level, I assume.

Later that day I would have less to think of when I’d get buffed and how to cope with the aching muscles. Everywhere seemed to hurt and nowhere in particular. I couldn’t eat up space in bed as I usually would. My cousin, Jerry would tell you he enjoyed taking up all the extra space.

If you think it’s not bad enough, taking your bath feels like your whole arm had rocks stuffed inside, I swearit.

Tomorrow I’d still wake and before praying I get reminded why I need to take a day or two off, I can’t kill myself. I couldn’t be more wrong as my comrades (Josh and Toxic) would normally call me 30 minutes before time and plead with me to make it to the gym.

Wheelz would say the pain wey gym give you na gym fit kill am (meaning the pain you get while working out can only be soothed with the same pain) It’s a paradox I admit, I eventually would understand.

A gym is an eccentric place, you meet all kinds of people, Jesters and philosophers alike — it’s a melting pot with diverse ideologies and outlooks.

Most people go by the nicknames earned from the pedigree of their achievement there. Killer, as we’d later learn holds the highest barbell plates record, was the first person we got introduced to, the men tell his story, almost as folklore as they recount his exploits with a sly smile, I don’t know whether it’s to encourage or otherwise, I think it’s both.

After a going three sets of bench press on the first day, now improved. Josh would tell me to move to a lighter barbell to curl. There’s a mirror hung up on the wall. While curling, a random gymer walks up to correct the form. Oga I can see myself and Josh said it’s alright but I resist the urge to lash out. Some will recommend you fold your hand into a fist for a tight grip, some a thumb-less grip is better. They’d go on and on complaining on your form or something trivial for a learner to adsorb at once. I normally ignore their inputs but yield to my instinctive default — argument. Those who know me know I have the last word, especially on topics I’ve researched. I’ve done my homework and as a final defense if you ask me to change the form, I’d tell what I saw on YouTube is exactly what I’m doing. Again, my trainer agrees with me, Thank God.

Everyone has a reason for working out and at the end of the set, their real intention comes to the surface. That’s where I get all the girls, yelled a stout bulky guy while pushing the barbell to the anchor almost relieved, he walks up to the mirror to admire his body from all angles imaginable.

The Gym could foster a lot of self-absorbed narcissists but one thing it has more in abundance is support. Push that weight, chop am like say na beans.
I’m not a fan of beans but whatever that keeps me going would do. And it works, there’s something that’s incentivizes you to do more when you have people cheering you. It taps into your inner core and draws strength from your life force, now I’m effortlessly pushing the weight a week before shook my whole system.

Somethings fall right into your life when other things fall apart. It couldn’t be truer when I started working out. Trading could be the best job, if you are in the zone everything works itself out. Every single position is flawless and the market like water flows into any direction you point at. Alternatively, losses terribly bruise your ego it could be likened to rejection but worse.

Remember the scene Thanos pommeled the incredible hulk to humility? That’s exactly how the latter felt.

Working out has been the respite, better said, a coping mechanism. There’s an exhaustive pain and morale that comes while you lie under the bar waiting for the moment of truth, your foot planted to the ground, your core and shoulder blades held tight, back arched, fingers wrapped around the cold steel, sucking all the oxygen around as though to fill in your chest before summoning the strength to lift the bar off its rack. It’s a feeling that binds you to the metal, a state you become one with pain, and nothing matters than lifting it high and bringing it low with a controlled effort to your chest. Nothing beats the adrenaline that comes with visceral strength while pushing it up high.

To be honest, Lifting heavyweight isn’t an activity most people fancy, this used to be me. Now it has taught me a lot and if you didn’t explicitly get it from the wall of text above then the bullet points are a summary of what holds in 3 weeks of working out;

- The beginning is the hardest
- Never fear starting something new
- You eventually get stronger with time and discipline
- Not all advice are potent, but listen and sieve the bad from the good.
- Block out the naysayer (I have an earbud) works well in the gym
- Invest in things that would improve your life
- A tree doesn’t make a forest — you need a team to motivate you when you run out of fuel, the lone wolf is a dangerous myth
- Love your body in youth, it will serve you well when you get old. I started drinking less sugar and processed stuff when I started working out — I plan of cutting it out entirely.
- You could learn a thing or two even from people you don’t like much.

- Be an open book, remain humble, be gentle yet fierce, remain a student of the game.

These times are hard and if anything, hopefully, someone reading this paragraph would find the courage to work on that idea he/she has fantasied on for long. Don’t wait 500 years like me to start working on your ideas. Yeah, life is hell but why stop when you’re in an inferno?

Keep pushing, I hope to hear from you in better times, they are ahead.