Stupid, stupid old git.
You would have thought that in the 97 years that I’ve been lifting weights I may have learned a thing or two. This is not the case. I have always been, and will forever remain, an idiot of galactic proportions. There is a gulf 10,00 miles wide between what I tell other people to do and what I do myself. If an alternate copy of me had approached the other me and said “I’ve been ill all week. This is my first session back. I want to do deadlifts. What do you think?”
I would say “Don’t be a bloody idiot man. You’ve just spent a week in bed your core will be as soft and wobbly as the legs of a newly born foal.”
The other me might go on to say “But I really want to do deadlifts.”
“Gah! Alright then if you absolutely must do deadlifts just make sure that you don’t go heavy.” Me number 2 would say.
“So I can deadlift then?” said number one.
“Don’t go too heavy”.
” Do you hear me?”
” Are you even listening?”
” Number one…?”
That lack of alter-ego is what resulted in me doing deadlifts, going too heavy and my spine making a sound like a shotgun halfway through a 180kg pull. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.
Fortuitously Ruth was on hand to give me a damn good rubbing. That combined with a hot bath and handfuls of painkillers means that my back feels better then it deserves to. I must, however, learn to take things a lot easier. One serious injury can take me out of the game completely. Tread carefully old man.
Somewhat unsurprisingly I didn’t do anymore training after that. Tuesday workout wasn’t much cop either. I did a half hour of cardio and some squats. Squats with a bad back is madness I hear you cry – and you would be right. Except all I did was put 40kgs on the bar and use the squat movement pattern as a stretch.
Hopefully tomorrow’s session will be a little more productive.
Thanks for reading,