Fitness for Old Farts

Jerry

I have known Jerry since our days at art school over 30 years ago and he has always been a very quiet guy, and I mean a very quiet guy. His girlfriend at college pasted his photograph next to the word ‘monosyllabic’ in the dictionary so she could explain him to her friends who had never actually heard him speak and thought she was dating a mute. I have met quiet people since then, but he is without a doubt the quietest man I know. He is the definition of monosyllabic.

Even our everyday pleasantries such as, ‘Hello, how are you?’ are sometimes too much for Jerry. I’d say that the population is roughly split into four camps when answering the simple greeting, ‘Hello. How are you?’ The first camp will automatically answer, ‘Fine’ or ‘Well’ or some other phrase meant to indicate that all is good in their world, for instance, ‘I couldn’t be better.’ They are the ‘positives’ and answer automatically without actually considering the question. What’s more, they expect you to do the same thing and are amazed when you don’t.

Then there is the ‘suspicious’ camp. They don’t want to seem too positive about their personal situation in case their answer leaves them exposed to some counter proposal like, ‘Oh, so you are FINE, or WELL or CAN’T COMPLAIN … Are you?! Then you must help me because I’m NOT FINE or WELL and BROTHER, CAN I COMPLAIN!’ Which is the last thing they want to deal with, so they answer the every day pleasantry, ‘Hello, how are you?’ with something less inviting such as, ‘No point in complaining’ or ‘Alive’ or ‘So, so, you know’ or a few of my favourites including, ‘What can I say?’ or ‘Better than nothing, I suppose.’

The point is that the answer has to be some phrase that has the unseen sub-clause, ‘Don’t ask me for anything’ attached to it.

The third camp is the one that most of us Old Farts will gradually migrate to over time, the group that takes the question seriously and insists on answering, in detail, about the state of their health. ‘Funny you should ask,’ they say, grinning like an estate agent who’s sold you a lemon. ‘I’ve had this really strange pain in my sphincter all morning. Let me show you …’

There are two sub-groups within this camp, those in Group A who really do have some reason to tell you, and those in Group B who simply do it because they know it’s going to piss you off. Most Old Farts fall into Group B.

And finally there is the fourth camp, the quiet ones, the non-verbal responders, the ‘ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies’ campers. It’s a small group and Jerry is their leader. Ask him how he feels and you will get a noise like, ‘Phaar!’ or ‘Fittt’ or some other sound that you are expected to interpret as good or bad depending on the facial expression or hand gesture that accompanies the sound. Actual words from Jerry are a rarity.

It’s not that he doesn’t have opinions about stuff; he does. He just does not see the need to share them with anyone. As a result, people tend to underestimate him, but for all his quietness, Jerry is a very determined man. Once he has thought his way through something and reached a decision, he is relentless in persuing his goal.

So when Jerry does have something to say, it’s worth listening to. He was being interviewed for a job at one of the largest advertising agencies in the country. One of the panel asked what he would do to improve the country if he was the president. His reply was pure, Monosyllabic Jerry, he thought about it for a moment and said, ‘Resign.’

He got the job.

With his friends he comes out of his shell and actually speaks in sentences. The only other things that get him talking are beer (after three you can’t shut the man up) and now gym. In gym, he found an activity he totally loved.

***

And so it was that three weeks into our gym programmes and one week after the start of the diet, Jerry, Mick and I were to be found sitting in the gym coffee bar comparing notes after our workout. Well, Mick and I were comparing notes, Jerry was grunting and occasionally raising an eyebrow to make his point.

Mick was still caught in that frame of mind that so many of us Old Farts migrate to: the belief that because we are older than everyone else in the room, we must know more about every subject known to man than anyone else present. My dad’s second wife was like that; mention in passing that you’d gone for a drive in the mountains and she’d tell you how she once climbed the Himalayas with a goat strapped to her ass just to make it more difficult ’cause that’s what people did in the old days …

It’s just another form of the, ‘I have a really strange pain in my sphincter, let me show you,’ syndrome, and Mick had dropped his trousers and was exposing his ignorance to all. ‘I’m telling you,’ he expounded, sounding like a maths master being forced to take gym class, ‘any more than five minutes cardio after weights is counterproductive.’

Jerry raised one eyebrow, turned down the corner of his mouth and said, ‘Phuuu.’

‘It is not “phuuu”,’ said a righteous Mick, ‘I’m sure I read it somewhere, some men’s magazine …’ He wafted a hand in my general direction hoping for some support.

What are friends for. ‘Well yes, that’s right,’ I jumped in, much to Jerry’s surprise. ‘Now that you mention it I think I read that article too in your copy of MENS SLOTH AND LAZINESS WEEKLY.’ Friendship can show its face in many different lights.

‘Funny,’ said a straight-faced Mick, ‘but the real point of the matter is that my body tells me it’s the truth and you told us to listen to our bodies, Tim. So stick that on your bike and ride it.’

He’d probably been working on this for some time and it was obviously leading up to something that only a lawyer’s mind could find the logic to. ‘With a body that size it probably has a lot to say, so what else has it been telling you?’ I asked, only wincing slightly as Jerry kicked me under the table as his way of saying ‘don’t encourage him’.

‘That food is energy and if I’m going to finish my cardio I need some,’ said Mick, who having finished his programme at least ten minutes before us, had rushed off and scoffed down two muffins before we got to the table.

He was now in the process of ordering a third along with our coffee, ‘So, if I ordered a muffin with our coffee would you guys share it with me?’ he asked, totally unaware that the crumbs on his lap and T-shirt kind of gave him away.

‘Are you serious?’ I asked. Jerry looked at me and rolled his eyes.

‘Well, of course I am,’ replied the lying scone of a peach. ‘There’s no way I could finish a whole one on my own, but I am feeling slightly peckish after all that huffing and puffing. This is a gym so I’m sure their muffins will be on that stupid diet somewhere.’ The man has no shame.

‘No,’ said Jerry trying not to grin, ‘If I feel hungry I’ll pick off your shirt.’

‘Oh, piss off you smug bastard,’ was Mick’s snappy riposte. ‘You know your problem, Jerry? You talk too much.’

Jerry smiled and said, ‘Uh-huh.’ Needless to say, Mick ordered one anyway. He called over the waiter and Jerry talked to me about his programme.

***

I had initially started Jerry on the same programme as Paul, i.e. three sessions a week, 35–40 minutes a time with some cardio thrown in for good measure. True to his nature, Jerry had applied himself to the programme wholeheartedly and given it his all. He asked questions, monitored his weight and watched his diet. He never tried to lift weights that were too heavy for him, but constantly pushed himself to his limit.

In three weeks he had dropped 3.5 kg and had gone from base weights using 50% of his maximum strength to 75% of maximum, his progress was amazing.

‘I bet you he’s taking steroids or cocaine or something,’ said a rather put-out Mick who, in three weeks, had lost 0.5 kg and still found walking around the block too challenging. ‘I mean look at him, coffee with no-fat milk and sweeteners. He’s taken to gym like a body-builder to steroids, it’s bloody disgusting. He’ll be wearing a leotard next,’ he finished, breaking off half the muffin and stuffing it into his mouth.

‘Have you started your diet yet?’ I inquired, well aware that he hadn’t.

‘I’m planning that for next week,’ he blustered. ‘Just letting the body get over the shock of actual exercise before plunging it into the total despair of a diet.’ Trust Mick to have a ready answer. ‘You’d better watch him, though,’ he said with the same worried frown he developed whenever the words ‘low carbs’ were mentioned. ‘Jerry can be a little obsessive.’

In this case, a little obsessive is a good thing, especially during the initial stages of an exercise programme. ‘Talking about obsessive,’ said a mildly malicious Jerry patting Mick on the tummy. ‘I’m not ready for your programme or John’s for that matter, but I’d like to step up and do five days a week. Any suggestions?’

The look of disgust on Mick’s face was worth all the pain we were going through.

‘I have a standard five-day programme that I followed for years; it was fantastic,’ I said patting Mick on the back to stop him choking on the muffin. ‘Keep to the three-day programme for one more week and then we’ll change you over. Give me a chance to dig up my notes and write it up. We can go through it next week.’

‘Great,’ said Jerry. Then getting up from the table and putting his hand on Mick’s well-padded shoulder, he added, ‘Come on you tub of lard, we’ll do cardio together.’

Mick visibly paled at the prospect. ‘On the stationary bikes?’ he quailed.

‘Sure,’ said Jerry, giving me a wink as he went passed. ‘I’ll even give you a head start.’

Mick brushed the remaining crumbs off his shirt and followed. ‘Did I tell you about the time I rode a ten-speed three hundred miles to school …?’

One week later, Jerry started a five-day programme that is great for those who want to build up their physiques and increase their cardio fitness, but you have to have the commitment to stay the course.

***

As I explained to Jerry, the basic principles remain the same: effort equals effect. Divide the body into seven parts: back, shoulders, legs, chest, biceps, triceps and abs; then train one part a day and abs every day, so the programme looks like this: