.gif "IP Gear")
- Joined
- Jun 5, 2002
- Messages
- 1,575
Sick of Your Gym; Part 4
The Gift
By Dave Tate
EliteFTS.com
Jim and I have been doing a lot of seminar traveling lately and nothing we have ever done in the past could have prepared us for the "The Gift."
We both decided that it was time to try out our new squat suits and it also happened to be a time we were to be out of town for a seminar. We figured that this was going to be no big deal. The place that was hosting the seminar had a Monolift and we were not going to go that heavy. As we flew into the seminar city we discussed our training plan and for some reason the subject turned to personal trainers that we have come across in the past. Jim is now doing some private training and I spent over 10 years in the field and have seen just about everything. I have met many great trainers, but they are far and between. Let's get real; most trainers pretty much suck.
Just as we were getting into some classic stories from the past, the plane landed and we met the seminar host at the baggage claim. I knew John, the seminar host, from various phone conversations and knew he could lift some big weight. As he approached, Jim and I were both happy. He was bald, had a goatee and weighed around 295. He dipped Copenhagen, spoke aggressively and hated crowded airports. He was one of us.
As we drove to get something to eat, John gave us the news of "The Gift". He began his story and by the time he was finished, both Jim and I were in tears. Now, these were not tears of pain but tears of laughter. It seems that the weekend of the seminar also happened to be the same day as John's birthday. John went on to say that although he loved his mother dearly she really did not have a clue about training at all. She knew John liked to lift weights and that he was all jacked up about the seminar. She wanted to give him a great gift so she called the health club where he trained at and bought him a "One hour personal training session with Timmy, A.C.E." You should have seen the look in Jim's face as he tried to hold back the laughter. I couldn't hold my laughter back and busted out and spit my dip all over the place. John said, "Go ahead laugh now but Timmy will be waiting for us all when we get to the gym. The session is today" I couldn't believe it. We were going to try out our new squat suits and we had to deal with Little Timmy! I looked over at Jim to see if he shared my concern, but there was this look of concentration and thought. Why the hell wasn't he as pissed as I was? He looked up at me and with an icy glare said, "Dude, this is going to be good." He put his head down and stared again. I had no idea what he meant but sometimes Jim's a bit different so I just passed it off as pre-squat nerves.
We checked into the hotel and made our way to the gym. Jim was just not his usual self. He was in deep thought about something but I again I thought he was just getting his mind ready for the session, so I kept to myself. I have only done some bench training with Jim and have never really squatted together. I have heard about the aftermath but never the pre- squat. When we pulled into the gym parking lot, Jim barked out, "This personal- trainer thing will be the greatest thing ever." John looked at me quizzically and I told him that it must have been the food from the airplane.
As was walked to the front desk, John and I were side by side and suddenly Jim split us like he was reliving his old football days. I've never seen him move so fast. Within no time, Jim was at the desk and with a booming voice (though out of breath) said, "We're here for our personal training session." By now, I knew that Jim had totally lost it.
John showed the clerk at the front desk "The Gift" and they called Timmy to the desk. It was just as I feared. Timmy was about 5'10" and MAYBE 165. He was well-groomed and wore a skin-tight polyester shirt. At 18 years of age, Timmy still lacked facial hair but seemed to make up for it with a couple of gold chains that dangled loosely around his neck. With some false bravado, Timmy slapped his hands together and with a large corporate smile asked, "What can I do for you gentlemen?" Jim grabbed his over-stuffed duffel bag and tossed it at his feet. "We're squattin' today. Grab our bags and start moving."
Timmy grabbed the bags and it began to dawn on me why Jim was so anxious for this personal training session. Timmy led us to the corner of the gym and put our bags down. He began walking towards the treadmills, "Let's start with a good walk for a warm-up." Jim grabbed some liniment from his bag and threw it at Timmy's head. "Get your ass over here and rub some Blue Heat on my back." Jim took off his shirt and pulled his shorts halfway down, letting us all get a good look at his crack. "Don't forget my low back and SI Joint." John smiled at me, and I knew what Jim had in mind, although I never realized how far he was going to take this.
"Hey Timmy, we need a box to box squat on." He looked at Jim with a look of confusion. "What's a box squat box?" Jim said "Don't worry about it just go grab 8 one hundred pound plates and sit them right in from of the Monolift so we can squat down and sit on them." Now I know Jim uses a 14 inch box and couldn't understand why he needed all those plates. He explained to me, "8 hundred pound plates are a little over 16 inches. You're going to use 8 plates; I'm going to use 6 plates. We're going to make Timmy take off and put back on the 100lbs. plate with each set. Now, John has to use a 15 inch box, so Timmy is going to have to a 45lbs plate over the 6 plates." Jim had this evil glimmer in his eye and a crooked smile that made me laugh and put a little chill down my spine. He had this whole thing planned out and it was revenge against the geek trainers of the world that have NO business training people.
It was time to put our suit on. We went back to the locker room to get them started but then came back on the floor to get our new buddy Timmy to pull the suit up. I heard Jim telling him to reach deep in the back and pull the suit up. If anyone's ever tried to put on a tight polyester suit, they know that it's not easy. Timmy was digging and grabbing and his effort was remarkable. After Timmy pulled his hand out of Jim's ass crack, Jim turned around, laughed and pointed at Timmy yelling, "Blue Heat Stink Palm, Blue Heat Stink Palm!" Although I laughed a bit, Jim was on the ground heaving with laughter. Timmy looked at his hands and gave them each a hesitant whiff. Little Timmy was not very appreciative.
I had my canvas suit on and John had a looser poly suit, so Timmy didn't have too much work with us. Never the less, he face was red from all the pulling and tugging and his tight shirt was now dripping with sweat. Lucky for him, we were using straight weight, so he didn't have to set up the bands.
I sat down on the edge of a bench and noticed that my shoes had become untied. Normally, this would've been hell. Trying to tie your shoes after you have your suit and briefs on is impossible. But since Timmy was ours for a day, I motioned him over and pointed to my shoes. "Not too tight, but I don't want double knots." Timmy bent on one knee and started fumbling with my laces. Now I don't want sound disgusting, but my canvas suit is about 6 years old and has NEVER been washed. You can only dream about the stink that came from "down there." Imagine putting a block of Swiss cheese in your underwear and sitting in a sauna for a couple of hours. I watched Timmy's face as he tied my shoes. His nose was quivering and I caught him dry heaving a couple of times. He tried to pass them off as a coughing fit, but his eyes began watering and judging by his work, he was definitely getting dizzy.
John began doing some dynamic stretching for his shoulders when Jim waddled over to him and said something. John smiled, walked over to a bench and lied down. "Timmy, get over here and give my upper back a rub." John took off his shirt to reveal a back covered in hair. He looked like a Silverback Gorilla. Add in a couple of monster-sized white-heads and some heavy duty perspiration and Timmy was certainly wishing he had taken the day off. Timmy began digging his fingers, hands and eventually his elbows into John's traps and lats. You could hear John's back cracking and scar tissue breaking up. After about 5 minutes, John stood up with a little bit of blood running down his back. Both Jim and I knew that some of zits had been broken and God only knows where the pus went.
Jim grabbed a block of chalk and gave it to Timmy. "Get our backs chalked up so the bar doesn't slip." Now, all of us and Timmy knew that chalk was not allowed in this gym. Sure, they had a Monolift, but chalk and the mess it makes are not allowed. Timmy didn't hesitate though. He had seen enough and didn't want to put up a fight.
Jim got under the bar first and did a couple of reps with the bar. I jumped in next and told Timmy that I needed another 100lbs. plate. Timmy grunted as he lifted the heavy plate onto the stack. John went next and demanded that the 100 be taken off and the 45lbs plate be put on. This rotation went on for 20 minutes. Take into account the plates being loaded on the bar and the short rest periods and Little Timmy was breathing like one of us now. No amount of time on the recumbent bike, Stair Master or Elliptical trainer could have prepared Timmy for this kind of workout.
After a short break, we all decided to do some speed deadlifts. Of course there was no deadlift jack to help with the plates being put on and pulled off. We started with a couple of sets at 225 and worked up to 455. Timmy was rushing from end to end trying desperately to keep up with our quick pace.
A few sets on the Reverse Hyperextension and some weighted sit-ups finished our workout. I have to admit that I really liked the attention from Timmy and it certainly made our workout smoother. Jim wasn't finished though. After taking off his briefs, Jim lied down on the floor and ordered Timmy to finish him off. Not sure what he meant by this, I leaned back on the bench and just watched. Jim lifted up one of his legs and asked for a hamstring stretch. I didn't think anything of this. Jim likes to stretch and it's a good way to end a hard workout. As my mind started to drift off, I saw that Jim had a huge smile on his face. He began mouthing some words to me and pointing to his shorts. I leaned forward and tried to distinguish what the hell he was talking about. After a few moments of confusion, I finally realized what the joke was. It seemed that Jim wasn't wearing underwear under his (very) loose shorts and Timmy was certainly getting an eyeful of Jim's "daddy parts." Timmy's head showed that he was trying hard not to look but Jim was mindful to keep a steady flow of conversation. This almost assured that Timmy was getting little glimpses of Jim's little general.
After packing our bags, Timmy gave us all a business card and thanked us for stopping by the gym. He asked if Jim or I were interested in getting a membership or some more personal training. We both declined and were too tired from training and laughing to say anything. After all the years of watching personal trainers amuse, confuse and infuriate me, I can honestly say that that day made up for everything.
The Gift
By Dave Tate
EliteFTS.com
Jim and I have been doing a lot of seminar traveling lately and nothing we have ever done in the past could have prepared us for the "The Gift."
We both decided that it was time to try out our new squat suits and it also happened to be a time we were to be out of town for a seminar. We figured that this was going to be no big deal. The place that was hosting the seminar had a Monolift and we were not going to go that heavy. As we flew into the seminar city we discussed our training plan and for some reason the subject turned to personal trainers that we have come across in the past. Jim is now doing some private training and I spent over 10 years in the field and have seen just about everything. I have met many great trainers, but they are far and between. Let's get real; most trainers pretty much suck.
Just as we were getting into some classic stories from the past, the plane landed and we met the seminar host at the baggage claim. I knew John, the seminar host, from various phone conversations and knew he could lift some big weight. As he approached, Jim and I were both happy. He was bald, had a goatee and weighed around 295. He dipped Copenhagen, spoke aggressively and hated crowded airports. He was one of us.
As we drove to get something to eat, John gave us the news of "The Gift". He began his story and by the time he was finished, both Jim and I were in tears. Now, these were not tears of pain but tears of laughter. It seems that the weekend of the seminar also happened to be the same day as John's birthday. John went on to say that although he loved his mother dearly she really did not have a clue about training at all. She knew John liked to lift weights and that he was all jacked up about the seminar. She wanted to give him a great gift so she called the health club where he trained at and bought him a "One hour personal training session with Timmy, A.C.E." You should have seen the look in Jim's face as he tried to hold back the laughter. I couldn't hold my laughter back and busted out and spit my dip all over the place. John said, "Go ahead laugh now but Timmy will be waiting for us all when we get to the gym. The session is today" I couldn't believe it. We were going to try out our new squat suits and we had to deal with Little Timmy! I looked over at Jim to see if he shared my concern, but there was this look of concentration and thought. Why the hell wasn't he as pissed as I was? He looked up at me and with an icy glare said, "Dude, this is going to be good." He put his head down and stared again. I had no idea what he meant but sometimes Jim's a bit different so I just passed it off as pre-squat nerves.
We checked into the hotel and made our way to the gym. Jim was just not his usual self. He was in deep thought about something but I again I thought he was just getting his mind ready for the session, so I kept to myself. I have only done some bench training with Jim and have never really squatted together. I have heard about the aftermath but never the pre- squat. When we pulled into the gym parking lot, Jim barked out, "This personal- trainer thing will be the greatest thing ever." John looked at me quizzically and I told him that it must have been the food from the airplane.
As was walked to the front desk, John and I were side by side and suddenly Jim split us like he was reliving his old football days. I've never seen him move so fast. Within no time, Jim was at the desk and with a booming voice (though out of breath) said, "We're here for our personal training session." By now, I knew that Jim had totally lost it.
John showed the clerk at the front desk "The Gift" and they called Timmy to the desk. It was just as I feared. Timmy was about 5'10" and MAYBE 165. He was well-groomed and wore a skin-tight polyester shirt. At 18 years of age, Timmy still lacked facial hair but seemed to make up for it with a couple of gold chains that dangled loosely around his neck. With some false bravado, Timmy slapped his hands together and with a large corporate smile asked, "What can I do for you gentlemen?" Jim grabbed his over-stuffed duffel bag and tossed it at his feet. "We're squattin' today. Grab our bags and start moving."
Timmy grabbed the bags and it began to dawn on me why Jim was so anxious for this personal training session. Timmy led us to the corner of the gym and put our bags down. He began walking towards the treadmills, "Let's start with a good walk for a warm-up." Jim grabbed some liniment from his bag and threw it at Timmy's head. "Get your ass over here and rub some Blue Heat on my back." Jim took off his shirt and pulled his shorts halfway down, letting us all get a good look at his crack. "Don't forget my low back and SI Joint." John smiled at me, and I knew what Jim had in mind, although I never realized how far he was going to take this.
"Hey Timmy, we need a box to box squat on." He looked at Jim with a look of confusion. "What's a box squat box?" Jim said "Don't worry about it just go grab 8 one hundred pound plates and sit them right in from of the Monolift so we can squat down and sit on them." Now I know Jim uses a 14 inch box and couldn't understand why he needed all those plates. He explained to me, "8 hundred pound plates are a little over 16 inches. You're going to use 8 plates; I'm going to use 6 plates. We're going to make Timmy take off and put back on the 100lbs. plate with each set. Now, John has to use a 15 inch box, so Timmy is going to have to a 45lbs plate over the 6 plates." Jim had this evil glimmer in his eye and a crooked smile that made me laugh and put a little chill down my spine. He had this whole thing planned out and it was revenge against the geek trainers of the world that have NO business training people.
It was time to put our suit on. We went back to the locker room to get them started but then came back on the floor to get our new buddy Timmy to pull the suit up. I heard Jim telling him to reach deep in the back and pull the suit up. If anyone's ever tried to put on a tight polyester suit, they know that it's not easy. Timmy was digging and grabbing and his effort was remarkable. After Timmy pulled his hand out of Jim's ass crack, Jim turned around, laughed and pointed at Timmy yelling, "Blue Heat Stink Palm, Blue Heat Stink Palm!" Although I laughed a bit, Jim was on the ground heaving with laughter. Timmy looked at his hands and gave them each a hesitant whiff. Little Timmy was not very appreciative.
I had my canvas suit on and John had a looser poly suit, so Timmy didn't have too much work with us. Never the less, he face was red from all the pulling and tugging and his tight shirt was now dripping with sweat. Lucky for him, we were using straight weight, so he didn't have to set up the bands.
I sat down on the edge of a bench and noticed that my shoes had become untied. Normally, this would've been hell. Trying to tie your shoes after you have your suit and briefs on is impossible. But since Timmy was ours for a day, I motioned him over and pointed to my shoes. "Not too tight, but I don't want double knots." Timmy bent on one knee and started fumbling with my laces. Now I don't want sound disgusting, but my canvas suit is about 6 years old and has NEVER been washed. You can only dream about the stink that came from "down there." Imagine putting a block of Swiss cheese in your underwear and sitting in a sauna for a couple of hours. I watched Timmy's face as he tied my shoes. His nose was quivering and I caught him dry heaving a couple of times. He tried to pass them off as a coughing fit, but his eyes began watering and judging by his work, he was definitely getting dizzy.
John began doing some dynamic stretching for his shoulders when Jim waddled over to him and said something. John smiled, walked over to a bench and lied down. "Timmy, get over here and give my upper back a rub." John took off his shirt to reveal a back covered in hair. He looked like a Silverback Gorilla. Add in a couple of monster-sized white-heads and some heavy duty perspiration and Timmy was certainly wishing he had taken the day off. Timmy began digging his fingers, hands and eventually his elbows into John's traps and lats. You could hear John's back cracking and scar tissue breaking up. After about 5 minutes, John stood up with a little bit of blood running down his back. Both Jim and I knew that some of zits had been broken and God only knows where the pus went.
Jim grabbed a block of chalk and gave it to Timmy. "Get our backs chalked up so the bar doesn't slip." Now, all of us and Timmy knew that chalk was not allowed in this gym. Sure, they had a Monolift, but chalk and the mess it makes are not allowed. Timmy didn't hesitate though. He had seen enough and didn't want to put up a fight.
Jim got under the bar first and did a couple of reps with the bar. I jumped in next and told Timmy that I needed another 100lbs. plate. Timmy grunted as he lifted the heavy plate onto the stack. John went next and demanded that the 100 be taken off and the 45lbs plate be put on. This rotation went on for 20 minutes. Take into account the plates being loaded on the bar and the short rest periods and Little Timmy was breathing like one of us now. No amount of time on the recumbent bike, Stair Master or Elliptical trainer could have prepared Timmy for this kind of workout.
After a short break, we all decided to do some speed deadlifts. Of course there was no deadlift jack to help with the plates being put on and pulled off. We started with a couple of sets at 225 and worked up to 455. Timmy was rushing from end to end trying desperately to keep up with our quick pace.
A few sets on the Reverse Hyperextension and some weighted sit-ups finished our workout. I have to admit that I really liked the attention from Timmy and it certainly made our workout smoother. Jim wasn't finished though. After taking off his briefs, Jim lied down on the floor and ordered Timmy to finish him off. Not sure what he meant by this, I leaned back on the bench and just watched. Jim lifted up one of his legs and asked for a hamstring stretch. I didn't think anything of this. Jim likes to stretch and it's a good way to end a hard workout. As my mind started to drift off, I saw that Jim had a huge smile on his face. He began mouthing some words to me and pointing to his shorts. I leaned forward and tried to distinguish what the hell he was talking about. After a few moments of confusion, I finally realized what the joke was. It seemed that Jim wasn't wearing underwear under his (very) loose shorts and Timmy was certainly getting an eyeful of Jim's "daddy parts." Timmy's head showed that he was trying hard not to look but Jim was mindful to keep a steady flow of conversation. This almost assured that Timmy was getting little glimpses of Jim's little general.
After packing our bags, Timmy gave us all a business card and thanked us for stopping by the gym. He asked if Jim or I were interested in getting a membership or some more personal training. We both declined and were too tired from training and laughing to say anything. After all the years of watching personal trainers amuse, confuse and infuriate me, I can honestly say that that day made up for everything.
