The Treasure Hunt

Friday November 9, 2012 7:37 am

I don't know for sure... but maybe what I had always needed in life was just some supervision? You know, someone who would have just sort of shadowed me and advised me as to what might be either a good, or perhaps a bad idea to try? I was off work yesterday so I thought I would get in a workout and I tried a new gym. I have been a member of the Y for a very long time, but lately it didn't seem to matter what time I had gone it was always crowded, and I would have to wait to use certain equipment that I like.

There is another gym in town: no pool, no rock-wall, and none of the many frills that the Y has... but I looked into it yesterday morning and it wasn't crowded and they offered me a free workout to see if I would like it or not?

Without trying to type more than I have to (and there is a reason for that which I'll explain in a moment) suffice it to say that just a little more than 20 years ago I hurt my shoulder (playing softball) and apparently I have never fully recovered? At the time of the injury I should have had surgery: however, I was self-employed and I was trying to earn as much money in as short a period of time as I could and there was no way I was going to take that much time away from sales. Because I never had my shoulder properly fixed, for several months after I fell I had to use either Deb or one of the girls to go with me on my shows because I could no longer carry in my demo kit, and the Rainbow at the same time into the homes where I was putting on my presentation. (Both my right arm and shoulder were almost useless.)

Just before I fell in that summer game of softball (church league) I was physically the strongest I had ever been in my life. Much of my life I fooled around with weights, and I tried several different strategies depending upon what my goals were at the time. When I was very young I was enamored with strength. I had met Paul Anderson and I was impressed, so I lifted heavier weights to bulk up and become stronger. Then, there was a period of time from about 21 to 27 that I started lifting lighter weights to exhaustion in order to have less body fat, so I could appear cut and look nicer. Then, I quit lifting altogether between (approximately) 28-34 years of age.

Not long after we moved to Louisville I got it in my mind that I wanted to be strong again. The Rainbow store in Bardstown was in a small shopping complex and two doors down from it there was a gymnasium So, for the next two and a half years every opportunity I had I was either there or at the Y lifting weights. Now, I don't want anyone reading this to imagine that the weights I was at that time lifting would set any type of records... they wouldn't. But, at least for the local gyms I was in (that is the Louisville/southern Indiana area) there weren't too many guys in those gyms who could lift more than me.

Then, at the end of summer in '92 I was rounding first base and instead of watching where I was running I had my head up watching the ball I had just hit to see if it was going to go over the fence? My foot caught on the edge of the bag and I fell. Instead of allowing myself to fall and roll I stretched out my right arm in an attempt to catch myself... and I ended up with a partial tear of my rotator cuff. There was no more lifting for me... for a very long time!

Before that game, near the beginning of my workouts for my bench work I would place three, 45 pound plates on each end of an Olympic bar and I would use that weight to do several sets and many reps in order to warm up my chest and arms. Then, once my muscles were warm I would begin to lift the more serious weights. Overnight I went from that... to not being able to even carry my own demo kit (weighing just 40 pounds) into a home to do a presentation.

It took many years, but over time I started being able to lift a little more and increase the weights to a point where the pressure on my right shoulder was tolerable and it didn't feel like it was going to give out. I knew I could never get back to where I once was... but I wanted to get to the place that I would not be a complete embarrassment in a gym.

For the next 12-13 years on my bench work I could never get above just 200 pounds before it felt like my right shoulder couldn't support the weight? So, I thought if I had a goal... something to shoot for that maybe I could work harder and gain enough strength to at least lift (one time) the weight that before my injury I could do 16 reps with: 250 pounds. (That became my goal... just a single rep.)

In 2005 for my next birthday I was going to turn 50 and I thought of a plan where I could do something cumulative to match my 50 years and maybe help people in the process? On my 50th birthday I was going to bike, run/walk, and swim for a total 50 miles... then bench press 250 pounds! So, I started blogging about it and signing up people to donate money to their favorite charities if I was able to accomplish my goals? I figured this way if I knew for certain that I was going to be helping a lot of people it would cause me to work harder and I would be more willing to work through the pain.

Saturday, 12:01 am on the morning of my 50th birthday I started my run in America's Place in Jeffersonville, which was directly across the road from where we lived at that time. It is exactly 1.3 miles around the outside lane of their complex and it is nearly flat ground. It was a great place to get in the running and biking. Although I had gotten a lot of different people pledging money to various charities... no one from my blog who I had invited showed up to go with me for any of the four events I was doing: running, biking, swimming, and lifting. I didn't think anyone would do all of them with me... but I thought some people might want to do some of it?

It was about 11:45 pm as I was pulling on my sweatshirt that Tammy called and said she couldn't do all of it, but she wanted to at least start with me. One minute past midnight we started. Bless her heart, I know she would have rather been in a nice warm bed on that freezing night... but she did the first few miles with me. (Every breath we exhaled there were long white plumes hanging in the frigid air.)

For the life of me I have tried this morning to remember... and I can't. But, I think my goal was 20 miles running and 29 miles on the bike with a one mile swim. I even looked back at my old blogs to see and I never paid attention before but evidently there are a couple of years, and many blogs which have been dropped? I'm not sure why? Anyway, I know the one mile swim was right and the weights were right... I'm just not certain the combination between the running and biking numbers? I just know they had to add to 50. And I know I would have set more miles to ride on my bike then I would have to have done with my legs (:

Right after I finished the first two parts I called Bob so he could go to the Y with me and I would have a witness for my swim and my lift. I swam the mile first, then I went into the gym. I did a couple of reps with 225 and they seemed easy enough and then I added a measly 25 more pounds on the bar... and I failed to lift it. All of that work, and all of the money pledged, and I blew it! (I personally covered all of the money that had been pledged by others so my failure didn't adversely affect any charities.)

Now, there is a reason (believe it or not) that I wrote all of that. Yesterday at the new gym I thought I would try the weight I had failed at nearly seven years ago on the bench press. I started with only 135... several reps: then 185, a few reps: then 225, only two reps: then I added two tens and 2 - 2.5 weights and I pushed it up fairly easily. I was amazed! I sat up and directly across from me there was a full length mirror and I squinted and saw that I was stupidly grinning... like I had really accomplished something (: There was one girl and a half dozen guys doing different exercises nearby and I felt like calling out, “Hey, come over here and watch this!”

It was like when I used to preach and sometimes ask, “... Can I get a witness?” (lol) Except, they might have looked at the weight on my bar and then fell about laughing. Of course, then a fight would have ensued and it would have gotten messy... so I didn't ask for anyone to watch (: It also didn't matter to me that there was a time 20 years ago when I could lift nearly double that weight... yesterday, I was stupidly, but most assuredly, proud of myself! (:

Just for good measure I wanted to try it again. I think it was at this time that I could have used a shadow friend by my side who might say, "Once was enough... don't try it again." However, no one was there to say anything like that so I laid back and once more I got it up... only this time it was very slow going up and I struggled to fully extend the bar. 

I didn't care though, it felt good. In fact, I felt so good that I drove home and walked Virgil... then I got out the vacuum and ran it, swept the kitchen and bathroom floors, and I even did a few dirty dishes that were in the sink. Woman's work, and I did it! That's right, I said, “Woman's work!” (LOL) Anyway... it seemed like a good day. Which brings me to the reason I am writing this.

About an hour ago I got up and I can hardly move my right arm. Normally on my off days I wear either a tee shirt or a sweatshirt. However, because I can't raise my right arm high enough to put on a sweatshirt... I am wearing a button up shirt from my closet. I am such an idiot!

To type this blog, using my left hand I had to lay my right hand on the right side of the keyboard and whatever keys I can reach that way... I hit with those fingers: the rest I am doing with my left hand (:

On one of the blogs I wrote awhile back I now realize that I told a lie... I want to correct that this morning. I had heard a country song by Toby Keith and it was catchy and there was one line in particular that I liked, “... I ain't as good as I once was, but I'm as good once as I ever was...” On that blog I said that was exactly like me. However, this morning I have finally admitted to myself that is a lie. Not only am I not as good as I once was... I'm not even as good once, as I ever was :(

Bette Davis once famously quipped, “Growing old is not for sissies.” (I believe she said that after she had a stroke?) Anyway, I think she was right. It's an awful realization to know that some things which once came so easily, are now completely, and utterly impossible to do!