Putting the Personal In Tire Flipping
My left arm will not extend above my head. Yesterday, I couldn't make use of either forearm.
I blame the tire flipping.
Lately, I've been trying new approaches to my exercise routine. A little P90x here, some basic grunty strength training there. Raw, straightforward lifting no longer does for me what it once did, and though I've lost strength, I don't miss it a bit. I often spend my Y time on power routines, hence the tire flipping. It's only a hundred pounds, so I thought I'd do a 3 minute round. Then another. Then I couldn't use my forearms.
After not vomiting, I wondered how it is possible to kick my own butt. Shouldn't it be like tickling--impossible to do to yourself?
When I design workouts for my husband, I know to avoid anything he might find tedious. I need to throw in supersets and some crazy stuff no one else in the weight room is doing. That's why it's called personal training--you tailor it to the person.
One of my coworkers saw me arrive to take his shift one day not long ago and declared, "Train me, Amy." I'm looking at him--young, big, soccer player, rides a motorcycle to work--and made some quick assessments. One, he's an athlete. Two, he's a bit of a wild man in need of excitement. Three, he just got out of school for personal training and doesn't need me instructing him in your basic moves.
Before you know it, I've got a barbell loaded up and standing on one end, and a fellow trainer is commenting, "Now that's a broken nose waiting to happen."
I knew he wouldn't sue me, and I knew he'd love it, which is why I chose the exercises I did. I was right on both counts.
Now I'm prepping to train a woman I don't know well. She's told me the muscles that give her trouble, and she names these with remarkable precision, due to her professional field. She's had some injuries, and I need to take it easy with her.
No tire flipping. No one size fits all.
So even though I'm the one you find in the weight room hanging upside down off the back extension, I can't be asking that of her. I'll keep things controlled but challenging, and be ready to adapt when necessary.
I like being imaginative and unique, but I realize the need to pull out your basic meat and potatoes once in a while.
With maybe a little gourmet dish on the side.
There's a smaller tire near the hundred pounder, after all. A minute wouldn't hurt anybody, right?
blogging every day, trying not to be like this
I blame the tire flipping.
Lately, I've been trying new approaches to my exercise routine. A little P90x here, some basic grunty strength training there. Raw, straightforward lifting no longer does for me what it once did, and though I've lost strength, I don't miss it a bit. I often spend my Y time on power routines, hence the tire flipping. It's only a hundred pounds, so I thought I'd do a 3 minute round. Then another. Then I couldn't use my forearms.
After not vomiting, I wondered how it is possible to kick my own butt. Shouldn't it be like tickling--impossible to do to yourself?
When I design workouts for my husband, I know to avoid anything he might find tedious. I need to throw in supersets and some crazy stuff no one else in the weight room is doing. That's why it's called personal training--you tailor it to the person.
One of my coworkers saw me arrive to take his shift one day not long ago and declared, "Train me, Amy." I'm looking at him--young, big, soccer player, rides a motorcycle to work--and made some quick assessments. One, he's an athlete. Two, he's a bit of a wild man in need of excitement. Three, he just got out of school for personal training and doesn't need me instructing him in your basic moves.
Before you know it, I've got a barbell loaded up and standing on one end, and a fellow trainer is commenting, "Now that's a broken nose waiting to happen."
I knew he wouldn't sue me, and I knew he'd love it, which is why I chose the exercises I did. I was right on both counts.
Now I'm prepping to train a woman I don't know well. She's told me the muscles that give her trouble, and she names these with remarkable precision, due to her professional field. She's had some injuries, and I need to take it easy with her.
No tire flipping. No one size fits all.
So even though I'm the one you find in the weight room hanging upside down off the back extension, I can't be asking that of her. I'll keep things controlled but challenging, and be ready to adapt when necessary.
I like being imaginative and unique, but I realize the need to pull out your basic meat and potatoes once in a while.
With maybe a little gourmet dish on the side.
There's a smaller tire near the hundred pounder, after all. A minute wouldn't hurt anybody, right?
blogging every day, trying not to be like this
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