I Guess Working Out is Like, Actually Good

I’ve been lifting weights for a while now. Not like, at a gym or anything, but I have a couple of dumbbells and enough weights to stick up to 20kg on each one. They’re fine for lifting up and down in my bedroom.

I don’t really remember what inspired me to buy them in the first place, but I’ve a feeling it was some misguided view that I would get stronger and muscular by lifting 10kg (as they were when I bought them, I bought more weights at a later date) with each arm several or some times a week.

I did this for about two years and made very little progress, though I quite quickly got up to being able to lift all of the weight I owned at first. I never progressed past there, even though I tried. It just didn’t seem to work.

In recent weeks I’ve been doing more research and reading up on more effective regimes which I’ve then applied to my own training along with eating more protein post workout. The results have been almost instantaneous from both a visual and a strength perspective.

Anyway, with the research I did, I kept reading that I should think about what I want to achieve from weight lifting. So I did think about it, for I am a slave to bodybuilding blogs. Must obey…

I’m adamant I’ve no interest in bodybuilding – what’s the point? But saying that, I don’t want to be “weak” and I don’t want to be puny or lanky (although this will probably never happen on account of my big bo… natural largeness and previous food habits).

Then I started to wonder why I even need any strength beyond the abilities to get off my arse, walk and carry/push food into my mouth. It’s 2013, I live in London and I spend most of my life sitting at a PC! The future is now.

Then I travelled to Lincolnshire to spend a week at my parents house.

Because it’s basically the only thing I’ve ever cared about, I took my desktop computer home with me in my stupidly large suitcase, along with a smaller suitcase and more than enough clothes for a week. I had to carry all of this through London. It was hard effing work and would obviously have been a lot harder if I didn’t work out.

The Friday night that I was back, I went out with a couple of friends and ended up in the dirtiest nightclub I know, and spent the whole night dancing like a maniac. I was super sweaty when the place closed and I was forced to leave (spoilsports), but the point I’m trying to make is that running regularly allowed me to dance like a maniac for literally hours and not get tired, contributing to the fun I had. Of course, I don’t remember seeing either of the people I was with dancing at all, or at least with none of the gusto with which I danced. That’s probably just my browned out memory. There had been Old Rosie earlier that night…

The day after that, it was my Mum’s birthday party, which was held in the garden. Being the strapping, aging lad I am, I was recruited to help with setting things up. This required carrying heavy old tables and the like from storage into the garden. It was a doddle. Sure, I sweated a bit, but it was hot. So y’know. Excuses.

The day after that (!) we had some more people over and I spent much of the afternoon running around acting like a seven year old, screaming and attacking my brother and another similarly aged chap who was visiting. No effort at all.

Then the final day I was there, this happened:

Note the human male on the left for a sense of scale – a gazebo this ain’t

That’s the marquee the party was held in. You may notice it’s not set up traditionally. The wind took it.

We ended up having a rather sullen faced family bonding experience disassembling it. It’s a lot harder to do when it’s upside down and mixed up with an assortment of hedges. Strength helped once more.

Finally, I returned to London (heaving my suitcases once more) and arrived home to find 150kg (6 x 25kg bags) of water softening tablets in the hallway that my uncle had decided to leave for me to carry up two flights of stairs. I’m not really sure why he couldn’t do it. Anyway, it wasn’t particularly challenging.

So there I have it. Reasons to keep working out. Even though I have not had to do anything like that for ages up until this past week.

Well done, Alex. You’re an inspiration to yourself. Ergh.

Please tell me I'm pretty.

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