Big Dave's Not Here

Contrary to the title of my blog, I’m not “Big Dave” anymore.  No, I haven’t followed in the footsteps of Bruce Jenner and made any drastic changes to myself.  That is unless you count weight.   Following doctors’ suggestions (finally) I’ve lost a little over ten percent of my body weight.  Now my wife says I’m skinny.  She exaggerates but I don’t think many people would refer to me as ‘big’ anymore.

     Part of that weight loss has come as a result of regular workouts at the local gym here.  My goal is to look like Jack LaLanne, founder of modern fitness whose physique at 60 years of age could still inspire awe and respect.  

Alas, my weight loss is leading me towards a gaunt, wiry appearance, a body image more likely to resemble actor David Kelly who motorcycled naked in Waking Ned Devine.

     Maybe Jack is yet in my future.  It takes patience.  Working out in a crowd at the gym requires patience.  Lots of characters there.  Today this young man was doing some kind of gymnastic calisthenics on the treadmill next to mine, this while jogging there too.  I was just hoping with all the gyrating that neither he nor the machine, or both, would topple over onto me. 

     Young women are less dramatic in their own workouts.  Yet their own concentration is sometimes divided, jogging on the treadmill while  texting on their phone.  Once in a while one of them will drop that phone.  POW!!  Sounds like a gunshot when it drops on the plastic shield.  My heart which is already operating at peak capacity to keep pace on my own treadmill doesn’t need that extra shock.

      Early in the morning it’s the senior men’s social hour.  You’ll always see a few clustered around one of the weight machines—chatting amiably, not working out.  This usually on a machine that I’d like a turn at.

     One older gentleman is there almost every day, at least every day that I’m there.  Yet he still retains the same portly body type that would cause doctors like my own to shake their heads.  I overheard one gentleman in the locker room speak to him of another regular who hasn’t lost a pound despite going to the recreation center for years.  “Too many Big Macs,” the man opined to his portly friend, perhaps a back-handed suggestion that he too should watch his diet along with working out.

    “Maybe he works out so he CAN have those Big Macs without gaining any MORE weight,” the portly one responded.   Good point maybe?

     I guess I could build up a home gym here so I wouldn’t have to trek to the local recreation center.  This week I saw my brother’s own basement home gym set-up which involves multiple heavy duty elastic bands, including a punching bag anchored between the floor and ceiling.  I did a boxing move and punched the bag which in turn flung itself back at me, requiring some nifty footwork on my part to avoid getting hit.  “It hits back,” my brother warned.  No kidding.

     With elastic bands tied to a ceiling beam he can grab them, then lean over to add resistance to the bands while doing a number of gymnastic-style arm exercises.   There is an air mattress on the floor in case something fails and he falls.

   

    We have another brother who after seeing this elastic band-based gym said it was dangerous.  I might agree.  Spiderman would probably love it though.