A week ago, I asked John for a new workout plan, as I was getting antsy to start moving some real weight. He broke my workouts up into a 3-day split: upper, lower, and full-body. My new workout schedule looks like this:
Monday: Bike 2 x 20’
Tuesday: Lower—BSS and 1-Leg RDL, Split Squats
Thursday: 5 x 2’ / 2’
Friday: Upper—Chin Ups, Bench, 1-Arm OHP, 1-Arm Cable Rows
Saturday: 30” / 60” / 90” intervals with 2x rest
Sunday: Full body: Push Ups, Chin Ups, Lunges, Seated Clean and Press, Incline DB Bench, Face Pulls
John added some exercises to my core / pre-hab (can I lose the RE-hab now?) work, including clamshells and hip corrections. I think it’s amazing how difficult these exercises are to do well. Fifteen clamshells make me feel like a burned-out Jane Fonda. Where’s my spandex thong?
I’m still feeling confident after my follow-up with the surgeon, though new exercises always seem to come with some strange tweaks. My bench numbers, though, are as good as they’ve always been. I’ve worked up to a 5-rep max of 135, and I’m hoping to hit 140 next week.
I miss working out with John, not just because he’s a happily available spotter. Because Gold’s is full of so many meatheads, I feel pretty awkward trying to find a spotter. On the rare occasion that I’ve asked a trainer for help, they seem pretty reluctant to leave the front desk. What are they there for? Anyway, among the meatheads, there’s a 50-something-year-old guy who squats 675 and does chin ups with 150 pounds dangling from his waist. He yells at himself frequently and grunts a lot. I grant him a pass, though, because he genuinely strong. Today, he was my only option for help, and when I finally worked up the confidence to bother him for some help he barely grunted while making eye contact. On our way to the bench, he asked if I needed a lift-off, and when I said no, his grunt seemed to have a ring of approval. And, by the time I put up my fifth rep, he actually said an audible, “nice job.” Kind of made my day.