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At the age of fifteen I was bitten by the iron bug.
Within a few months of touching a barbell I knew my life would totally center on bodybuilding. My enthusiasm was overwhelming and my energies were totally directed towards my daily workout.
I would quit playing football and hockey, sports which I excelled in, just to lift weights. It seemed absurd to my high school football coach who could not understand why I would trade the glory associated with high school athletics for a dingy and dirty YMCA weight room.
Nonetheless, my mind was set and I was determined that I would transform my scrawny 140-pound body into a physique that would make even the biggest and strongest football player stop in awe and take notice.
My appetite for bodybuilding became even greater when I began buying bodybuilding magazines. The pictures of he champs were very inspirational. I took every bit of advice each champ had to offer in the hope that I too would follow in their footsteps. With no coaching other than the magazines I formulated my own training routines.
Within six months of having touched a barbell I was per training 2.5 hours per day, six days per week, doing as many as 25 sets per bodypart. I figured that if the champs in the mags grew training in this fashion I would too.
I remember the great enthusiasm with which I approached my new training program. I would perform as many as 125 to 150 sets or 6-10 reps of various exercises for several bodyparts on a daily basis. During the last few workouts of the week I was unable to finish my whole routine as I was overtired. I recall many times after a workout being unable to do my homework because my hands would tremble uncontrollably.
After six months of enduring this training regimen I began asking myself if it was worth it. I had little to show in the way of gains for my excruciating efforts. I began having doubts about my bodybuilding potential and considered quitting. Being in a state of confusion and desperation, I began searching for some new magical information to help me overcome my dilemma.
It was at this time that I happened to find out about a private gym located in my town. I visited the gym and met the owner immediately, a man in his 70s.
The equipment in the gym appeared to be at least as old as the owner was.
I explained my training history to the gentleman.
And received a rude awakening.
I felt he would have some compassion for me, and lead me towards the right direction. Instead, he accused me of being a typical case in that I'd been brainwashed by all the hogwash that was written in the magazines. He further added that training all those hours was a waste of time and I was a fool.
"My gym is only open three days a week -- Monday, Wednesday and Friday and the 20 fellows that come here only do one set of 10 exercises listed on that wall."
He further added that if I wanted to train there I had to train his way only.
At first I thought this man to be somewhat ludicrous.
I wondered how anyone could develop a good physique training only three times a week and only doing 10 sets per workout. Having nothing to lose, I decided to allow him to put me through a workout. I was bound and determined to show him that I was by far more advanced than any of his trainees and could go through his workout without even a sweat!
Was I ever in for a surprise.
The workout started with full squats. He believed in the old method of breathing squats, at least 20 reps with as much weight as possible.
He suggested I use only 75% of my normal squatting weight, which at the time was 195 pounds, 50 pounds more than my bodyweight.
With each deep breath I would complete one repetition. Before this set I had never gone beyond 10 reps on squats. As I approached the 12th repetition I could feel my lungs and rib cage starting to hurt from the heavy breathing. By the 15th I started getting lightheaded and my thighs began to ache from the lactic acid buildup. I was ready to quit.
"FIVE MORE!" the old-timer shouted.
Gasping for an extra breath, I reluctantly proceeded to complete another agonizing rep . . .
Barely completing the 17th rep, I conceded to the excruciating pain.
Note: I still vividly remember the first time I did 20-rep breathing squats.
I too was surprised. But in one helluva good way!
I too was surprised. But in one helluva good way!
Barely capable of returning the bar to the squat racks I was quickly hurried over to a bench to perform breathing pullovers for ribcage expansion. Lying across the bench and holding a 25-pound barbell at arms' length, I was instructed to perform 20 pullovers, i-n-h-a-l-i-n-g as deeply as possible on each repetition. I could feel an incredible expansion in my chest cavity as my gorged lungs stretched my ribcage to its capacity.
The ordeal left me breathing like a race horse. With little rest I found myself lying on a flat bench doing shoulder-width bench presses. Again, the heavy breathing and the weight coming down on my ailing chest was enough to make me reassess my desire to be a bodybuilder.
After barely completing the set of bench presses I began to feel nauseous and lightheaded. My heartbeat became so rapid that the gym owner suggested I rest a while before continuing.
As I laid down on a bench all manner of negative thoughts entered my mind. If I had to train this hard, I thought, it would just not be worth it. The magazines I read never said train to failure. As long as I followed the routines that champions used I too would like them. In the midst of these scattered thoughts I decided that I had had enough and quickly snuck out the door before the owner had a chance to see me.
On my way home I began to feel disheartened by my workout performance. Maybe I did not have the potential to become a bodybuilder. But the more I thought about the whole episode, the more I began to realize that maybe that workout was my first REAL workout and possibly I had stumbled on something that would greatly help me in my quest to become a bodybuilder.
Two days later I revisited the gym and joined.
I was so eager to learn as much as possible that the gym owner nicknamed me
and I listened to his every word of wisdom . . .
He taught me the importance of sticking to basics and training to failure.
After sticking with the basics, such as squats, pullovers, bench presses, deadlifts, dips, chins, curls, rows and shrugs, I have been able to make incredible progress.
My weight over six years went from 145 to 242 pounds at 5'9". My bodyfat at 228 registered for a time at just over 3%.
Note: These articles stressing basic training may seem to be repetitive, even redundant past a certain point. If I browse around on Youtube or at a few current bodybuilding sites . . . they regain their importance quite quickly.
Enjoy Your Lifting!