Fear not.
No one died. I’m referring to a Romanian Dead-Lift for those of you not
in the know. I sure wasn’t. It involves a barbell. It hurts. It’s hard. I’ll leave it at that. In fact,
everything about weightlifting is hard. You think it’s just about lifting a lot
of weight so you can show off in front of everyone at the gym? Remember the Arnold
Shwarzenegger lookalike in the Planet Fitness commercial who kept repeating, “I
lift things up, I put them down”? Check it out if you don’t: https://youtu.be/0hzJYZzNPf4 Admittedly,
I thought that ad wasn’t far from the truth. I frowned upon these “meatheads”
as I heard them grunting and groaning from across the gym, while I quietly
worked up a sweat on the elliptical. Well, now that I’ve had a training session
with someone who actually competes as a weightlifter, it’s time to eat my piece
of humble pie and admit it’s so much more than being able to lift things up and
put them down. It’s an art. (More on that later.)
I should
have known I was in trouble when we headed to the area of the gym with all the
free weights. I tried to act cool, but inside I was screaming, “What the hell are we doing over here? I want to
go to the area with the machines, where I can let go of the weight if it feels
too heavy!” No such luck. My trainer—the formidable Johnny Santos aka Boogie—started
me with squats on something called a squat rack. Don’t know what that is? Don’t
worry, I didn’t either. Here’s a photo of my trainer showing me what to do:
Does it look easy? It isn’t. I was told to lift the
bar, which I figured was super light. It wasn’t. In fact, it weighs FORTY-FIVE
POUNDS! I start doing squats with the bar, praying I didn’t topple over. But as
we went along, I started thinking, “I got this! I can DO this!” And I told my
trainer so, confident I’d get used to the bar eventually. Well… imagine my
surprise when he replied, “Oh just wait until you add weight to the ends.” EX-cuse me? Add WEIGHTS to the WHAT???? WHY
DOES A FORTY-FIVE POUND BAR NEED WEIGHTS?? (Apparently that’s the point.)
Reality suddenly came crashing down on me as I realized I had been lifting an empty barbell.
And this is
where the art comes in. I always related weightlifting to the machines I used back
in the days when there was a gym called Jack LaLanne. Oh, Jack. Remember him? He
was an exercise God! But I digress. Back to machines… I don’t want to poo-poo
on them. They have their benefits. After
all, Jack LaLanne helped develop many of the machines still used in gyms today.
However machines, I discovered, do not teach you proper form. Sure, you can
still lift heavy weights on a machine, but you don’t necessarily learn how to
do it properly. Heck, I remember using
the leg press machine way back when, and if I couldn’t handle the weight, I’d
just let go and the equipment would loudly bang right back into place, no harm done. There
are no such shortcuts when weightlifting with free-weights. Try suddenly
dropping a barbell if you decide you can’t handle the poundage and you just
might break your foot (or someone else’s). That said, using free weights forces
you to focus on your stance, posture and range of motions to target the
appropriate muscle groups and gain the maximum benefit.
And boy,
did my trainer work me hard to make sure I achieved the maximum benefit. At one
point, as I was struggling to do the dreaded Romanian Deadlift, he just took
the barbell from me in ONE HAND and put it back on the rack. What a SHOW-OFF!
(Just kidding Boogie.) In truth, he was probably going easy on me for my first
workout, but it didn’t feel that way. In fact, I was convinced he was trying to
kill me. I thought back to all those moments on the elliptical, when I had
given the death stare to all of the grunting and groaning body builders. Forget
about me grunting and groaning. I wanted to unleash a bloodcurdling scream the
likes of which has only been heard in the scariest of horror films. Feel the
burn, my ass! And then… each time I’d think we were done with a rep, Boogie would utter the dreaded three words no one whose muscles have turned to jell-o
wants to hear: “One more set.” Is that
some kind of sick joke? My little Jewish-Italian heart could only mutter, “Uy,”
in response.
So yeah…
that was my first foray into the world of free weights. All in all, despite my
belly aching, I kind of LIKED it. There’s something powerful about lifting up a
barbell and being able to support the weight yourself. And did I mention it was
forty-five pounds? That sounds like something to be proud of for a five foot
tall gal like me! I’m nervous about going back on my own and possibly making a
complete jackass out of myself, but I’m going to give it a go and see what
happens. Don’t worry. You won’t be seeing me at any weightlifting competitions
anytime soon, and by soon, I mean NEVER. But if I can build a stronger body,
that will be good enough for me. I would like to extend a heartfelt thanks to
my trainer for NOT killing me, or laughing at my utter ineptitude. And for
those of you wanting to be whipped into shape, you couldn’t ask for a better
trainer than Johnny Santos. He is tough, but he is also kind and inspiring. (In
other words, ask me for his contact info if you want it!) Now if you’ll excuse
me, I need to catch up on some reading:
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