The Born Fitness Approach To Health and Fitness

I forgot to take my breath and then closed my eyes. Then, suddenly, panic set in.

My mind thought I was pushing, but my arms wouldn’t move. I wondered if it was what trainers meant to warn me about the extreme programs that could lead "death from barbell".

Those thoughts are what you think of when you feel trapped beneath your bench press. The cold iron is grazing your throat as a impending guillotine. I gasped for breath in my desperate state of despair.

My hero ran to me from one direction. I didn't grab his name, but he grabbed my weight and gently curled it from my head. I jumped up, relieved, and exasperated at my Neolike reincarnation. Then, he took the weight off my head and I thanked him for his extraordinary feats of strength. He made me laugh, made sure I was fine, and left me with words I will never forget.

"Probably didn’t think that you needed a spotster, huh?"

I looked at it. Only 10 Pounds sat on each side.

It was official. My 65-pound benchpress found a new way for me to be completely embarrassed.

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Starting from scratch

The bench press incident (let's just call it BPI, because it sounds more interesting) was not an isolated event. I was a college freshman, and I went to the rec facility to train at a very early hour.

It was not because my schedule. I was trying not to be late and missed everyone. You can find a rec center on campus at 5 AM if your gym is quiet. Cemeteries can be more lively.

I wanted isolation because I was embarrassed. I was weak. I was weak. I had no idea how to do it. I even knew someone who could shoulder press twice as well as me. I had to adjust my schedule so she could be there. I have struggled in the gym before.

Growing up, my weight was a problem. And I'm not talking about little-boy-that-can't-shed-his-baby-weight. I was fat. Because of my large breasts, junior high boys saw me in the locker area and thought I was one of the most beautiful girls in the school.

A Lesson in Failure

I would love to pretend that, after BPI I discovered the gym again, met my Mr. Miyagi and everything just got better. However, this would be unfair to humanity and real life.

Life doesn't happen in montages. (Even though it would be wonderful if it did.

Looking back at my approach towards fitness, I think I've made more mistakes that anyone I've ever seen.

I lifted weights on my own and did not need to be instructed. I kept pushing through injuries which only led to more. I avoided all dietary cholesterol. I also avoided all carbs. It was even worse because I ate thousands, hundreds, and hundreds upon thousands of grams of proteins. I made several girlfriends endure the "assos of fireyears." (My sincerest apologies.

I was against supplements and refused to take any. I then tried every legal supplement to make myself bigger and slimmer.

I bulked. I cut. I ran. I swam. I did yoga. I also lifted weights--big (eventually), small. I did high and low reps. I also performed Tabatas.

I've tried almost every kind of HIIT, low-intensity cardio, or kettlebell workout. I have tried ab machines, used crazy cleanses and even taken a few Shake Weight. To impress a girl, pink dumbbells were even used. It did not work, much to everyone's surprise.