I'm in my late 60's, 5'10", 218 lbs. ripped to shreds. I was in the gym benching with Jerry Jones. We work up to 425 and he struggles with a single. I continue with 495 and then want to go for 545. Jerry gives me a handoff and I slowly lower to my chest. He is screaming, "push it asshole". I get if off my chest and manage to lock it out. I'm seeing stars but I shake it off. Then Casey Viator shouts over to me to head for the squat rack. We work up to 725 and on my 4th rep I bust a hernia and it shoots out a foot. Casey says shake it off and I push it back in and use duct tape. I finish with a good double with 775. Casey says we should rest for 4 days before another squat session. When I awoke at 3:00 a.m. my wife said I was screaming shit about benching and squatting. She asked me who the fuck are Jerry and Casey. I settled back and grabbed my log book from the night stand. I made a note to go for 245 on the bench next Saturday. Will do floor reps since I seem to have injured my rotator cuff while dreaming.