Fitness for Old Farts

We held our first full Fellowship of Fat Frail Farts (how’s that for a row of Fs) meeting on the Sunday of the fourth week of gym. Mick, true to form, had started dating the past gym events as BG (before gym) and all present and future events as AGD (after gym and diet). The ‘D’ was added on the week the diet was introduced.

Having volunteered to host the meeting, Mick then formalised the occasion by sending out a notice of intent.

A full meeting of the Club FOFs will be held at my residence on this Sunday, the 23^rd March 0001 AGD, commencing at 11.30 am (see map attached).

The viewing of Tim’s first two sets of fat photos. After which, general laughter and ridicule will be accompanied by snacks, tea/coffee or something stronger if you wish.
A brief report from each fellow covering their gym programmes and diet issues, during which liniments and whisky will be available to all. (We’ll stand around talking crap and drinking).
Another five-minute interval to reload with snacks.
Any adjustments necessary to individual gym programmes will be addressed by the Ginger Attack (Mick’s latest nickname for me).
Pre-lunch drinks will be served along with accompaniments.
General discussion covering all moaning and groaning, bragging and tales of woe, etc.
Any other business that can’t wait till the next official meeting.
Lunch! (It’s Sunday and a day off the diet, so back off!) … with wine.

Please note, all wives and partners are invited to join in and participate in all discussions.

The fat photo viewing was accompanied by a lot less ribbing than I expected. It evolved to involve a lot of shirt lifting and belly flashing as the ‘flatulence’ started comparing my flab-busting progress to theirs. Mick stood at the back and said very little, mostly because he was eating.

There was one moment though, when the entire Fellowship collectively aired their belly buttons … not a pretty sight. Sarah (Mick’s wife) leant over to Cathy (my wife) and said, ‘I haven’t seen so much blubber on display since that whale washed up last year.’

In those first four weeks I had lost 4.1 kg of fat. That’s the equivalent of eight packets of butter! My gut had pulled in, losing that VW Beetle bonnet look and both my strength and fitness were up by a good 30%. Cliff’s programme was proving its worth, and I was now getting through the daily routine in about an hour.

Most importantly I was feeling better, as were 90% of the fellowship. Every member had lost some weight, even Mick, although he seemed determined to gain back those losses by lunch. As a group, we were stronger and fitter than BG and that was the purpose of the club.

As you can see from the photographs (I admit to sucking in a bit – wouldn’t you with four Old Farts and Cliff looking on?), progress had been rapid, but if you look closely you’ll find the reason the Old Farts had to rib me for the next four weeks.

My beloved Cathy decided that my thinning and greying top could do with some rejuvenation. It’s a sobering fact guys, that our women look at us as a work-in-progress, in need of constant improvement and correction. Yes, they do, and the longer you’ve been together, the more improvement is required. By hook or by crook women will always get their way, and after 30 years of marriage any resistance you might have had has been worn away by that relentless nagging wind. What chance does a man stand?

Cathy assured me that it would be a subtle change that no one would really notice because the process would simply take away the grey and restore my hair to the original vanilla blond tone. The colour would be refreshing and no one would know why I seemed younger.

She even showed me the packet. Sure enough it said the same thing: vanilla blond, refreshing, subtle …

So much for advertising, I turned into a carrot top, a ginger head, and everyone noticed. I refuse to report exactly what was said by the Fellowship, but let me say that comments from the general population I came into contact with ranged from the subtly surprised, ‘What the fuck have you done to your hair?’ to the less subtle, ‘My son had the same colour hair as yours. I loved it, but we had to dye it black so that he could have friends.’

‘Well, you’ve got funny hair, that’s all,’ said Cathy washing her hands of any responsibility. ‘Not my fault if it decided to go red instead of blond.’ And that was that.

It took the next four weeks for the jokes to slow down and six months to grow out. Thanks for that … but I digress …

Healthwise, the first four weeks were over and it was time to step up. The guys wanted to know the what, why, how and where of the future as we reflected on the past. Gym is a process and this is how it works.

Week One is a huge shock to the system causing panic in every department: fat loss, muscle building, fitness, tendon strength, bone mass – all need attention. Your body kicks into high gear. It pumps in adrenalin and boosts your immune system, it forces glands to gland faster. Even your brain starts firing at a higher level to cope with this new thing you are telling it do.

Week Two is just as shocking because the system simply can’t believe you would do that to it all over again. So it rebels by throwing at you stiffness, tendon strain, fatigue and depression, trying to make you slow down. It’s busy reorganising fat stores and patching up muscle and tendon and bone. It does not want you causing more problems.

By Week Three the system starts (reluctantly) to accept the demands you are putting on it and finds ways to cope. It begins burning fat for energy, using the protein to shore up muscles and build the strength needed, boosting bone mass to give the tendons a sound foundation to grip onto. In other words, you are getting fitter.

By Week Four, the system is slipping out of shock mode and into business-as-usual mode as the muscle memory and energy needs of each exercise become part of your daily routine. If you do not change anything in your exercise programme, it will become easier to do as time passes.

Don’t worry, you will still get stronger and fitter and lose weight, but at a slower rate. In gym parlance, you’ve plateaued before your peak.

To keep your body working at its optimum level, to make it burn fat, build muscle and achieve better fitness, you have to keep it in shock mode.

In gym this is known as shocking your body into shape by changing your routine in some way. Most trainers will reassess a programme every month or two and change up the exercises, the weights, etc. to keep the body guessing.

I explained all this to the Fellowship and spent time with each Old Fart changing up his programme, adding weight to strengthened muscles and different exercises to challenge the system.

On all my normal programmes, you should reassess and change after four weeks. Thereafter, you should adjust weekly to keep your system challenged. But I was not doing a normal programme, I was doing Cliff’s programme.

Remember the saying, ‘Just when you thought it was safe to go back into the water?’

After four weeks I thought to myself, ‘Okay, I’m finally fit enough to rock the Casbah with Cliff’s gym programme now.’ Famous last words, Cliff’s idea of shocking the body is shocking. Never mind tweaking weights and changing one type of exercise for another. No, no, no, Cliff changes everything.

I knew I was in trouble the moment he walked through the door. His grin reminded me of a cat in ‘Wonderland’ as he handed me the programme for the next four-week block.

‘You have got to be kidding me,’ was my immediate reaction on reading the programme. ‘This is,’ I wafted the pages about a bit, ‘this is …’ I petered out as words failed me.

‘This is why I didn’t give you the entire twelve-week programme at the start,’ explained Cliff, picking up where I petered out. ‘It might have put you off having a go at all.’ All I could see was teeth.

‘No shit’, I thought but grinned back like the Mad Hatter. The word ‘insane’ flashed into my brain. This programme is insane, I thought. Naturally a thought I kept to myself. Out loud I said, ‘Probably a good thing too,’ hoping the first four weeks’ training had brought me to the level where I was fit enough to attempt Week Five.

‘Let the pain begin,’ said Cliff heading off to the weight section. I followed with a lot less spring in my step.

That’s the problem of training with someone who is vastly fitter, stronger and younger. They assume you will be able to keep up. ‘Roll on Week Eight,’ I replied, knowing that I would be well on the way to achieving the goals I’d set for myself by then.

For your edification and delight, here is the second part of ‘madness through insanity to understanding’, otherwise known as Cliff’s programme.

THE 5-DAY BODY PROGRAMME (Block 2 – Insanity)