I had the mother of all bench workouts last night. It left me broken and feeling a bit barfy. Just when I thought I was working pretty hard, I realized that there is always another level. That’s the amazing thing about working out, you can always do more and get better. And by amazing, I mean……for the love of fuzzy bunnies, make it stop!
I started the workout with some band benching. It was 75# plus a band on each side. Ugh. I did 3×3 at competition, close, and wide grip. Wide was by far the hardest, as usual. Then to make it even more fun and exciting, Ray upped the weight to 95# and told me to crank out 3 reps. FML, that was horrible. I got through the first rep, but I saw my life flash before my eyes on the second rep. I felt the inner, screaming 2-year-old rear it’s ugly head…..I CAN’T DO THIS!!!!! I somehow got through it, but there was no way I was going to try for a 3rd. I had some serious visions of being clothes lined by a 95# barbell. Not exactly something I’d recommend.
I then moved on to the humbling part of the workout. The part where even though I can deadlift 300#, I can’t do 10# should raises. yeah, that sucks. I did dumbbell rows super setted with 2 way shoulder raises (front and side). The front raises were easier, but still challenging even with pink, 10# dumbbells. The side raises though….not even close. I struggled with those babies. I even had to drop down to 8# for the last two sets. It was horrible (have I said that enough yet? Yes, this workout was HORRIBLE). And then it got worse.
Enter the dumbbell floor bench. I’m not sure why I haven’t been introduced to this doozy up until now, but I definitely could have lived without it a bit longer. I’m sure it’s good for me though. It’s just like it sounds, lay on the floor and bench.
Maybe someday I’ll be ripped like Spidey??
The thing that makes these babies tough is that the floor limits your range of motion so you end up losing that stretch reflex. I started out with 35#, but that felt too easy. So in my current state of naiveté, I went up to 45#. OMG. I couldn’t even pick them up, they had to be handed to me. I felt like I was using every muscle I had to push those stupid weights. I could even feel it in my rib cage. I made it to the 5th rep (of 6) before Ray wisely advised, “Don’t drop them on your face!”. Thanks. Needless to say, I went down to 40# for the remaining 3 sets. Brutal. Absolutely brutal.
While I was finishing up the last set, Ray kept telling me that I only had one more exercise to do before I was done. Like that was supposed to make me feel better. All I could think was that it better not be dips. Sure enough….dips, one set to failure. Fantastic. I didn’t feel like I had anything left, at all. I was shooting for 8. But somehow, somewhere….I conjured up 17 from the depths of my being. Maybe they were a bit easier because I wasn’t trying to do “prisoner dips” on random gym equipment.
By the time I was done, I didn’t even feel like I could drive home. My arms were non-functioning. Did I mention that it was horrible? Thankfully today is a day off for me because if typing hurts, I can’t imagine what lifting would feel like.