A guest column- by Sam from the Y

Here's a few thoughts from one of the trainers at the Y.



Closing thoughts:


The comments at the end of this season that I appreciated hearing the most were not of numbers, pounds, and inches, but of confidence. Each of my players felt so much more capable, and even more important, much more willing to push themselves during each workout.

One of the rewards of exercise is a growing feeling of control. When you are feeling out of shape, you feel out of control of your own body. It's a strange and uncomfortable dis-connect that can permiate other aspects of our lives. Without stetching out on the couch for some analysis here, I am sure that we can all come up with examples of how this affects us. At every level, it is good to feel your body respond to what you are asking it to do; push ups, sit ups, dead lifts...and lo and behold, your body does it, albeit grudginly at first, but it does it. I was fond of reminding my players that the workouts didn't get any easier, they each just got stronger and more fit.

Each of them began to enjoy the feeling of overcoming the discomfort to finish the set, to add one more lift, to run just a little faster. In turn, they enjoyed pushing and encouraging one another.

As a self described gym-rat, my favorite aspect of a good workout is to know that most of my pains are self inflicted, and I wear them like trophies. I wish for each of you the same feelings of accomplishment.

Keep going. It doesn't get any easier, you just get stronger...and isn't that the point?


Sam

Thoughts on the weight loss challenge- a final review.

The weight loss challenge is now over.

"How'd I do," you might ask.

"It's not about the pounds," I say as you begin laughing...

But it's actually true this time! I lost a few pounds over six weeks, but also lost a few inches around the midsection. My shirt no longer has the tell tale exploding button. You've probably seen it. That button on a dress shirt that is so tight around the belly that it's in danger of bursting out like a gunshot.

Others were similarly happy with the weight loss challenge. Pamela was satisfied with her increase in conditioning and will try it again. Carlos, the torturer, aka trainer, was satisfied knowing that he has introduced another group to the fears...errr...cheerful part of exercising. One young bloke lost not only enough weight to win the competition, but actually became a year younger! Maybe I'm exaggerating a bit...

At least two contestants left the challenge looking completely skinny- I'll call them Joe and Ms. Tour de France. But, then they entered the challenge looking completely skinny... Why were they in the contest? Rumor has it that heavy people attract groupies...



Or maybe not..

Our trainers would probably say it's for increased conditioning,better muscle tone etc.. You know all that healthy stuff.

Many thanks to Carlos, Sam and Danny for training us beyond the limit of normal couch potatoes.

Until the next competition....

Some thoughts on Cohen, Sinatra and life

I was half asleep on the couch the other day after a session at the gym, when a Leonard Cohen special came on the television. "Leonard who?" I thought, but was too tired to change the channel. I lay sprawled across the sofa, listening to this old guy sing. A good rhytmn, nice deep voice, incredible lyrics.. Soon I was sitting straight up and watching the television transfixed. This cat can sing!

He had a cool style to him and songs that really made me wonder why I hadn't heard of him before. I thought he was cool in a way that Sinatra only pretended to be.

To me (and I realize this is a minority opinion), most Sinatra songs give me a headache. Strangers in Night and Seventeen are good songs- but most of his songs have a frivolous quality to them that makes me feel like switching the station. Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars... Give me a break.

But, Cohen seemed to sing his songs with a authority that came from a lifetime of hard won wisdom.

"Ah you loved me as a loser, but now you're worried I might win."

"Ah but a man never got a woman back. Not by begging on his knees. Or I'd crawl to you, baby and I'd crawl at your feet."

It's good stuff. A cool facade, a smooth delivery, and layers of depth.

If only my closing arguments could be so good!

"You can take Joe off your list of contacts"

"Hey, and by the way, you can take Joe off your list of business contacts," said my brother Carlos casually in the midst of a conversation about the family dinner that night.

"What do you mean," I asked.

"He died this morning," said Carlos with his usual tact.

"What?" I said, trying to make sense of things "Are you serious?"

Carlos was serious, but almost immediately the conversation returned to the family dinner. In my family, men dwell little on feelings of loss and much on ribs and related meat products. But, as we talked about the ribs for the family dinner and whether I would show up on time for once, I thought about Joe.

Joe (a pseudonym) was one of my brother's closest friends. He was a hell of a nice guy. I knew him as a client, but his relationship with my brother Carlos went back to the beginning of Carlos' career as a nurse. Joe was a mentor to him, but due to health concerns was unable to keep working.

I met Joe as a client referred by Carlos and was surprised to see that he was not only gay, but proudly and loudly so.

"Are you sure you're my brother's friend?" I was tempted to ask on many occasions. My brother, to say the least, isn't the world's most sensitive and reflective man. His nickname among my childhood friends was Hitler. He was proud of that nickname.

Joe, on the other hand, was almost completely without guile. He was a client that shared his feelings, fears and concerns. Sometimes he drove my staff to the point of madness with his continued questions and worries. But, in the end, we were able to end his worries with a complete victory in his case.

However, he would still call me afterwards from time to time with lingering concerns or worries.

But, now I guess he's off my list of contacts for good. He's off of Carlos' friend list, but is definitely not forgotten.

My gruff brother took a full plate of food from family rib night to Joe's partner and stayed up with him. He may not have tact, but my brother is always there for people.

Reunion

"Are you sure you went to high school with these guys?" the wife asks me. I glance around the room of people at my 20th high school reunion-Chula Vista High Class of 1989. Only a few faces seem familiar.

"Well, I might have represented that guy with the shaved head," I say as we take our seat at a table.

"I can't believe it's been twenty years," says the guy sitting next to me.

"I can't believe any of you went to school with me," I start to say, but the wife cuts me off with one of her famous "Be nice." looks.

"I can't believe it, either, I say" as I listen to the guy's story about how he's sellling insurance nowdays. He seems happy- selling policies and living the single life.

Another former classmate tells me about her life being married to a Navy seal turned policeman. She seems like a nice person and I probably would have enjoyed knowing her, but with a few exceptions the evening goes like this. People mention that I look familiar and I wonder if I've ever seen them before.

I talk to a few people that I remember, but don't really see any of the old crew. I looked forward to seeing maybe 10 to 15 people, but if they're here I can't recognize them. I wonder if maybe I look different also- I was a skinny kid with braces. Now, I'm a supersized lawyer with an easy smile. Some one asks me if I'm in politics.

"Sure he is," my wife says laughing.

I spend the evening surveying the room, drinking my vodka tonic and enjoying my wife's company. I decide that it's a good time even if I don't remember anyone. Maybe it's better not to remember?

The band, finally, gives up on 80's tunes and plays a few Latin jams. The wife and I get out and dance. Then we dance some more.

We talk and joke a bit more with the people at our table and then take off.

"Are you sure you went to school with these people?" she asks as we walk back to the car. The air feels tropical, reminding me of Puerto Rico on our honeymoon.

"Sure. Even if I don't remember them, they're all friends."