The first time Pam and I went to Austin, we spent an evening at the Broken Spoke, an old-style honkytonk, where I tried to keep up with her as we learned to do the Texas Two Step. While I was not an abject failure and could Two Step in a straight line, I was pathetic when we had to change direction. This came as no surprise to me, though Pam could not understand why I failed to keep time to the music whenever we needed to turn. I told l her that I am an endurance athlete. I excel at performing the same motion over and over and over. I don’t think about movements. I just do them. Despite the Two Step having only two steps, turning required additional movements, thereby requiring a lot more thought, which apparently was just too much for me. She just shook her head, thinking I was an idiot. I like to think that if we had another lesson, I would get better—something I wouldn’t bet on.
While we were not drinking Lone Stars, eating or dancing, we were listening to Two Tons of Steel, a Texas rockabilly band. It was a great night and turned out to be a lot of fun—even if I could only Two Step in a straight line.
Speaking of tons of steel, which is comprised of a lot of iron and some carbon, I have never been much interested in pumping it. I have focused on cardio exercise—running, swimming biking—for fifty years. There was no Arnold in me—until I got my Tonal, a wall mounted weight-lifting device, over three years ago, just about the time I went on Medicare. The Tonal is a high-tech device, relying on computer controlled magnetic resistance instead of steel plates.
Since then, my exercise compass has shifted—possibly due to the magnets in my tonal—and I have been lifting three of four time per week, finding my dormant, inner Arnold. I still run several times per week, but I focus more on lifting than running. Thankfully, most lifts require repetitive straight-line movements—sans turns—so I have mastered them without too much effort, as long as I keep the weights reasonably light.
My strength training goals have been pedestrian. I am content to maintain muscle mass, strengthen supporting muscles that I do not use while running, improve balance, and halt the inexorable degradation of my glutes due to the hours I spend at my desk. I have no interest in getting bigger or much stronger or emulating Arnold, wanting instead to stay off of a walker and not need assistance to get off the toilet.
I was true to my goals until this month, when I got a bug up my butt to tackle a new four-week program on Tonal, a program that requires me to move a lot more magnetic steel than I am used to, a program that will lead to strength increases and muscle growth—opening the door for way too much Arnold. The program is called Ascending Muscle Mountain, and as the name suggests, the volume—or tons of magnetic steel—I would need to move increases every week. These increases appeared to be staggering, and I was concerned how I my body would react during the month. The program uses German Body Composition training, a dastardly method of alternating upper and lower body moves sandwiched around short rest periods, forcing your cardio system into overdrive. Given my cardio fitness, this aspect of the program did not daunt me, though maybe it should have.
My Tonal and my Apple Watch combine to track way too many metrics during each workout. Up until this month, I pretty much ignored all of them, especially my weekly volume, as it was not interesting or useful to me. I would glance at my average heart rate for each workout, which usually hovered around one hundred beats per minute, which is not too stressful, given my average resting rate of fifty.
I have completed three of the four program weeks, and my weekly volume has increased dramatically, starting at seventeen tons for week one and ending at twenty-five tons for week three, an amount that might even make Arnold smile. On average, that’s like lifting a 1956 Cadillac Coupe de Ville—the car that spawned the name of the band we saw at the Broken Spoke and weighs about two tons—ten times every week, which is way more than I usually lift.
I have done more than lift, as I have continued to run twice per week and walk after every Tonal workout, making the cardio requirements of the strength workouts tolerable, though that aspect of the program has been more difficult than I thought, forcing me to sneak in some extra seconds of rest as the weeks have progressed. My average heartrate per workout has increased by about 10 percent.
Week four, the final week of the program, starts Monday. My weekly tonnage will go up even more, reaching levels I have never dreamed of and making me feel way too Arnold-like.
The week after that I will put Arnold back into his place—I am strong enough to do so now—and I will start a program which will be more in line with my normal goals, enabling me to reduce my volume, decrease my average heart and reduce my level of effort to one that is reasonable for a sixty-nine-year-old.