I’m having a contemptible physical affair. It gets hot and it’s always heavy.
I leap out of bed looking forward to the early morning rendevous.
I come home pumped and full of energy. My amicable husband greets me, “So how was it?”
“Awesome!”
Thus, sums up my personal training weight sessions at the gym
In fear of sounding like a complete wanky fitness freak, if running helps clearing the mental cobwebs, doing weights is empowering.
50 kg barbell squats and 17.5 kg dumbbell shoulder presses will do that.
Aside smugness and gloating, it can’t be ignored that all this hard work takes time, much guidance and proper supervision.
Thing is – and as Mr Surfer very much aware – I don’t take orders. I will face palm.
Who doesn’t?
My personal trainer, Nugsy left the gym recently (sob, sob). Funnily, he was one person who I didn’t mind giving me instructions.
When he first suggested I shoulder press 17 kg dumbbells, I started searching for his crazy eyes. Was he for realz?
3 sets of 12 reps, MOFO!
By the eighth rep the wobbles started. By the tenth, my brain and my arms would not sync.
Brain: “Lift! Lift! LIFT!”
Arms: “F%&K RIGHT OFF!”
Apparently, this is what is called the “sticking point”.
An intuitive personal trainer knows exactly when their client reaches this stage. Although, they won’t make you stop.
Just as I was in fear of those dumbbells crashing down, Nugsy would slightly touch my wrists, gently guiding my arms up.
“Thanks for finishing that set off for me, Nugsy,”
“Didn’t do a thing, mate,” he’d say.
There was possibly no way I solely lifted what was almost equivalent to my boys’ weight. Above my head, no less.
Apparently, this is called the “Feather Touch” – subtle, almost non-existent assistance to finish that rep, that entire set and ultimately, your goal.
No loud, raucous, unrealistic commands or orders.
Guidance without guiding.
So while B busted her butt running her marathon in the Sydney drizzle, I thought I’d try out my own Feather Touch.
Obviously it was dumb to think that she would be reading those texts while pounding the 42.2 km pavement. But there was no harm in letting her know I was thinking about her.
That I was with her every step along the way.
Because there have been so many occasions when family and special friends like B who instinctively know when I’m at Sticking Point.
And unbeknownst to me, they reach out with a Feather Touch.
Been at Sticking Point lately? Who’s been there for you with a Feather Touch? Does your personal trainer have crazy eyes?
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