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I VS. ME
SQUAT EVERY DAY HOW IT HELPED ME COPE WITH LIFE
ANAND JHA


First Edition
Copyright © 2019 Anand Jha. All rights reserved. Cover Design: Sree Kumar (behance.net/mangopeel) ISBN: 9781077378989
Published by Indelible Prints


Dedication
To life’s circumstances and to Matt Perryman for his book “Squat Every Day” that transformed the way I saw weights.
This book is a note to myself as well as a record for my daughters about their father, who in spite of being an inveterate procrastinator, finds giving up very difficult.




Foreword
The weight had felt heavy and bogged me down straining every noise that cluttered the mind. But perhaps this was what I had wanted.
Of the two half-day jobs that I was working I had lost one—unfortunately it was the one that paid me most money. The company, even though its owners were good to us, had folded taking with it my three months’ salary.
With two home loans EMIs, education of two daughters and a monthly house rent along with host of other mounting expenses I had started living on the goodwill of the bank. My “excellent credit worthiness” had stood by me and the bank generously lent me money.
Every time I would read on the screen that I was eligible for X amount I would chuckle with joy and as I clicked the tab to credit the money to my account a sense of utter helplessness would pervade me accompanied by a hint of tears in my eyes.
“There is nothing more humiliating than poverty.”
I was no more their classic customer... I had become their legendary customer.
And in the meanwhile as I was getting on with life I broke my bone. It happened just like that. Nothing extraordinary had preceded the event. It was absolutely bereft of drama; there was not even a modicum of story in it.
I was climbing up on the kerb on my way to office when my foot slipped. I had only stumbled. Not even fell. My right hand weathered the impact and the forearm cracked.
I would often joke with my wife, I still do at times, that if I had fallen in the evening or at night my neighbours, especially her friends would’ve thought that I was drunk and they would’ve used this as an evidence to shred my reputation as a teetotaler.
But it wasn’t that everything was weepy-weepy. Even though my car stood back at home while I trudged in the sun sweating profusely in the tin-shell of the shared auto, I was getting assignments.
I had my wife by me and as for our daughters; they had grown aware of our vulnerabilities and had not only learnt to live within our limited means but had


also stopped coming up with their innocent little demands.
Yes, I kept going. “Heck, did I have any choice!” But I wanted to rebel. Pick up cudgels against circumstances. Shout at the top of my voice, “Why me?”
I wanted to turn into a roadside labourer chipping stones. I wanted to get stoned.
I wanted to become a stone.
That was when I found “Squat Every Day.”


Contents
DeDication 5 ForeworD 7 introDuction 11 Prove You to YourselF 13
Month 1 15
Squat Every Day – Week 1 17 Akin to Meditation 17 1.4x the Body Weight 18 My PR (Personal Record) 19 Saturday’s Dilemma 19 I vs. Me 20
Squat Every Day – Week 2 22 Stuck 22 Dead - Alive - Elated 23
Squat Every Day – Week 3 25 First Demon Conquered 25 Bench Max Days 26 Worn 27
Squat Every Day – Week 4 29 Confusion. Confusion. Confusion. 30 Fall Sick 30
Month 2 33
Squat Every Day - Week 5 35 The Change of Tack Works 35 Saluting the Human Body 37
Squat Every Day - Week 6 39 Everyone can Give Up 40 Time to do Something is Now 40 Tame the Mind if You can 41


Squat Every Day - Week 7 43 Fixing the Form 43 Form Fixed 44
Squat Every Day - Week 8 47 Add Secondary Exercises 47 Raring to Go 48 What You Make of Life is up to You 49
Month 3 50
Squat Every Day - Week 9 51 A Shitty Week 52 The Conclusion 53
Squat Every Day - Week 10 54 Squat Every Day - Week 11 57 Squat Every Day - Week 12 59
183 Reps in One Day 59 End of the Hectic Day 60
Month 4 63
Squat Every Day – Weeks 13 to 15 65 The Epilogue 65 Scattered Thoughts 66 Try Tabata Protocol 67
Last Words 69 Author 70


Introduction
11




Prove You to Yourself
Every muscle revolts. Each cell screams. Nerves twitch. Cerebellum totters. Cerebrum commands, “Just stop it.”
You look around. Survey the weight you have taken off your traps. Gaze at yourself. Not in the mirror but within. Away from the reason’s overpowering reach. Think but don’t use head. Logic is cast aside.
No safety of squatting cage. No one to support if you falter. Even the rack is at the best a jugaad (improvised arrangement).
“Should I?” You ask yourself.
You have already breached your max limit. The next attempt at best will sugar your ego. You pause. Waiting for the inside voice.
The mind continues its chatter. Thinks up scenarios. Brushes aside possibilities. Tries to hold you back. Strives to protect you.
3 minutes have passed. You still need have 2 minutes to make your mind up. You think of the gurus of heavyweight training. Try to remember their words. 5 minutes are up. You are sufficiently rested. The voice has spoken.
Get underneath the barbell. Total serenity. Lift the weight. You can hear your breath. Walk ahead. Digging through the shoulder the rod scrapes the skin. Bones feel the crunch. Neck cranes ahead.
No doubt it feels heavy but you can take one. Mind, body and you. Who among the three is the smartest?
Hips thrust out. Knees fold. Waist leans forward. Head straight. Eyes stare into the corner. You come down.
Medulla Oblongata jacks up breathing. Air filling the lungs contracts the diaphragm. Stomach swells. Heart pumps to deliver extra oxygen. Hurrying blood pushes against the veins. Capillaries dilate. Speeding up the metabolism to make for the increased nutritional intake cells are pressed hard at work. Sudoriferous glands in overdrive mode oozing sweat to cool body’s rising temperature.
A pause. Little below the parallel. The world it feels has stopped. The upward push. Slow. Grinding. Not an iota of needless movement. Technical perfection.
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Buoyed. You decide you will go for one more. Another effort going down. Much more exertion coming up. Leg falters. Right knee caves for a moment inside. You haul yourself up. Secure in the knowledge that your body can take in more than mind can think. Step back and cautiously unrack the bar.
You have done it. It’s a PR (Personal Record). And look at the rod again. As your eyes count paltry poundage, you hear that voice again.
“The numbers you lift does not count. What matters most whether you are lifting more than the last time? In fact, are you at all lifting?”
“A loser’s argument.” The voice shoots back.
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Month 1
15




Squat Every Day – Week 1
Third day into Squat Every Day. Too early to say. Still.
Though it’s not for the first time that I am trying it but this time, it seems, I will survive.
What makes me so sure?
A difficult question. But since I am talking to myself I will try to answer.
Perhaps it’s the desire. Perhaps the occasions I have faltered have given me insights on what went wrong. Perhaps I wasn’t able to adjust it with the priorities of a husband and a father.
May be this time it will be different. It has to be.
I hope so.
Let’s see.
Akin to Meditation
Undoubtedly Squat Every Day is tough.
And more than the muscles it needs nerves.
I mean squatting with maximum weight on your shoulder, every day, every week, every month trying not to take an off even on Sundays is not an easy proposition.
I have tried it and I have failed.
Yet its lure is such that I always come back. With the hope that I won’t give up. This time.
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What is it in Squat Every Day that draws me towards it?
A question whose answer is tied up with why I lift weight.
First and foremost, it could be because weight training is a solitary pursuit. Being a sort of person who likes mostly to be with himself, I like the conversation that I have with me. During weight training this exchange reaches its crescendo and culminates as I push the load in a void that fills my being.
The single mindedness of pursuit. The cessation of duality. The merger of I and me.
The unity. And the ensuing calmness. Silence. Satisfaction. A heady feeling. Even though lasting for not more than fleeting seconds.
Weight training for me is akin to meditation and no protocol has taken me closer to that experience than Squat Every Day.
1.4x the Body Weight
Picked up the heaviest weight today. 210 pounds. 96 kilograms. 2 sets of 1 repetition each.
Last time when I had put this weight on my shoulder it was some 30-40 days ago. A close relative’s visit followed by my wife’s ill health kept me off the barbell and the bench. Also went through a sort of temporary crisis that finally resulted in sorting out the timing issues. At least that’s how it appears as my fingers flitter around the keyboard right at this moment.
A long pause. Wondering what next to write.
I feel lethargic. Right at the moment I entered my office, after nearly two- hour commute in Delhi Metro during which I started the chapter on “Social Intelligence” in the book “Mastery” by Robert Greene, I had felt energy sap out of my body. The mind kind of confused meekly acquiesced.
Perhaps it is the meager breakfast that I had in the morning. A slice of bread and a banana before the work out. And peanut butter laced two slices, 200 ml milk and one more banana after it. No it’s not the usual serving but things at times are out of your control and there is nothing you can do but to submit to its whims and fancies.
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My PR (Personal Record)
210 pounds. 96 kilograms. That’s not much of a weight. 2 sets of 1 repetition each. That’s not much of an effort. Still.
It’s the maximum that I have lifted. And I have the right to exult, if not at the poundage, then at least at my effort.
At 47 years of age I am way past my prime.
And at 68 kgs it roughly translates into 1.4 times my body weight.
1.5x is considered to be a decent benchmark. That’s what Internet tells me. That’s what my target at present is.
Just 10 pounds (or 4 kilo and 540 gram) away. “Quite close,” you would say.
Saturday’s Dilemma
Saturday. 7 hours to go before the week will come to an end. I haven’t yet completed my day’s quota of Squat Every Day.
Sitting at the office trying to complete my 100 words of the day’s writing and wondering at the same time whether I will be able to squat in the evening. Usually, I prefer to do it in the morning. Half an hour after I see off my younger daughter to her school bus. But today, since it was her off, I, covered deep in the warmth of the quilt laze in the bed late. Get up late. Reach office late.
Yesterday too it was no different. Being India’s Republic Day it was holiday for all of us. Late morning. Celebrations. A visit to optometrist. Laddoos. Sholay, a blockbuster from yesteryears on TV. Much too many ad breaks. Extends into late evening. Haircut. After which, a hurried squat.
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I do not attempt to reach the max weight. Instead, remain content to attempt 10x the body weight (68 kgs / 150 pounds). At 8 reps I feel that I have maxed. A twitch in the muscle/ligament on the inside of the right knee makes me rack the weight. Take a long gap then go on to complete 2 sets of 4 reps each with the same weight (151 pounds).
As I sit in the office, 30 minutes still to go before I leave for home thoughts have stopped flooding my mind. In spite of small celebration my family has planned at home I am kind of sure that I will be able find time to squat when I get back home. But will I also be able to Deadlift that I had left for Saturday evening?
That remains to be seen.
I vs. Me
Saturday evening doesn’t go as planned. No Squat in the morning. No Squat in the evening as well. Instead after spending some time with my daughters I go for the weekly Deadlift. It’s close to 10 when I start. By quarter to eleven when we sit down for dinner my body feels wobbly. I sit with my back pasted to the chair. Torso resists from slouching and bends from the waist to feed to the mouth the morsels. The weight I have lifted, 3 sets of 3 reps, is not the heaviest. But quite close.
Next morning being Sunday leave the bed late. By the time I set up the weight for the Squat it’s afternoon. 12 reps just with the rod. A brief gap. Another 10 reps. 8 reps with 80 pounds. Followed by 3 reps with 120, 140 and 160. Add 20 more pounds—a plate of 7.5 and 2.5 at both ends. 180 pounds on the shoulder does not feel heavy. Go down easily but coming up is difficult.
In two minds about going for 200.
Last Sunday when I had started with the present round of Squat Every Day I hadn’t had difficulty in picking up this weight, which if you included the bar totaled 210 pounds, for 1 rep 2 sets.
I take a long break. Don’t remember the thoughts that went in and out of the mind. I have no sense of prepping myself.
I walk around asking myself should I do it or should I not? And when I get back I don’t have a definite answer.
All that I knew by the time I loaded the bar on my shoulder was that human body
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is supremely intelligent. Supremely strong. It can make “one last ditch effort” if things go beyond mind’s comprehension. I turned to this belief as my saving grace.
Slowly I lower myself. Jut my hind out. Eyes look ahead. Knees widen out. Reach parallel. Perhaps even lower.
A micro-second pause after which I pull up. No movement. Another attempt. Total stall. I want to shout for help. But realize that with so much of weight I won’t be able to make my voice leave the mouth. I want to throw the weight off my shoulder. But with zero practice had no idea how it would go. Watching out of the door, hoping my wife to see me and help me, I understood that it had now come to “I vs. Me.”
Strangely enough, with so much going on I feel calm. And mind having exhausted possibilities had stopped panicking.
A faint hint of movement. I find the body pulling itself up. Very slowly. Gradually. One mm at a time. Glutes find their strength. Feet find their mooring. Thighs break the parallel.
Distance between the hips and floor stretches. Knees unfold. Legs straighten. A few tiny steps back I slip the rod off my shoulder. Surprisingly I feel easy and the mind is void of feelings.
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Squat Every Day – Week 2 Stuck
Monday morning. No squatting.
Flat Bench Press in the evening. Reach the 1 rep max. Of 160 pounds.
Buoyed by the lack of strain after squatting 7 of the 9 days I decide to add second exercise to my half an hour schedule in the evening.
80-100-120. For 8-10 reps. That’s how I go about with the Decline Bench Press. Follow it up with Chin Ups. 1 set of 1-2-3 reps.
Lungs heave. Chest feels heavy. Body strained. Mind unable to continue its conversation.
Tuesday. A change of tack. No more trying to get to max every day. Started with warm up sets. Reach 140. And don’t go beyond 4 reps. For 3 rounds.
***
Okay... Now let me confess... I am confused... Wedged.
When the idea of this blog had first entered my head I had provisioned for writing every day. Typing things I had done with Squat Every Day, collating my experiences, my struggles, how my body coped up, what went through my mind, my diet, how it affected my wife, the impact it had on my daughters, the highs, the lows, the pains, its influence on my work, on running, on reading, on daily commute, the posture... I had lots and lots of plans. But right at this moment everything, it seems, has gone for a toss.
On Sunday, since it was a holiday I didn’t write anything.
Monday, I spent the entire day in a meeting and therefore no tapping on the keyboard.
On Tuesday, when I finally had time I wrote about Sunday.
Wednesday it was about Monday and Tuesday, and that was when I felt my head going haywire. Since I was recollecting my thoughts of the past and then writing about it, I felt I was violating myself.
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‘Can your experience of the past remain untouched by the present?’ Doldrums.
Thankfully, since I had reached the daily quota of 100 words when I discovered that the writing had become forced and doubts had begun to assail the mind, I stop.
Dead - Alive - Elated
It’s Friday. Very tired. After a long time could not continue with reading during my morning commute. Close my eyes and try to sleep. And fail as usual. Feeling of effortlessness has gone for a toss. Thinking is akin to struggle. Even keying in the words is a herculean task.
Pain in the thighs. Stiffness in the torso. Sore arms. Strain where the iron plates are screwed in three of the four bones of both the forearms. Shredded tendons and ligaments. Droopy eyelids. Warmth underneath the skin. A Paracetamol is what I need. An analgesic. A sleep.
Use the mouse to select the two paragraphs I have completed. ‘97 words.’
The Status Bar at the bottom of MS Word displays. And as I key in this sentence the numbers go beyond “at least 100” that I have planned for each day.
Time to stop. Time to go out. Time for a power nap. Time to wish I could close my eyes. No dreams. Just sleep. Unfortunately it remains just a wishful thinking.
“To hell with work.’
*** Evening. Reach home from the office. Tired.
Though the pain had subsided but “pyretic” warmth has instead taken its place. Watch the last 10 minutes of “Tenaliram” on SAB TV with my daughters and wife.
A hilarious episode. Lots of tickles. Giggles. Laughter. And a cup of hot ginger- cardamom tea. After spending some time with each other I get ready for the weights. It demands all my will power. But I put my faith in Paracetamol 500 or even more potent combination of Paracetamol and Ibuprofen that I will take after the weights to get me rest. Tomorrow, my daughters don’t have their school and I can sleep late.
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A few warm-up sets later reach 98 pounds on Military Press for 2 reps. I “slow- mo” haul the bar bell over my shoulder. Body shivers. The knee, the waist and the shoulder tremble as I hold the weight for a few seconds above the head. I wish I had made the video. It would have made for a hilarious sight (“Hila” in Hindi means shake).
Lowering the bar I pause for a moment at the Front Deltoids from where it comes down like a torrential rain.
Rest.
Remove the two 20 pound weights from each side. With two rubber plates of 20 kgs (44 pounds) remaining on the 6.3 kg bar I complete 3 hypertrophy sets of 8 reps. Follow it up with 3 twenty pound supersets.
Behind the Neck Press first. Trapezius Upright Row in the middle. And Barbell Biceps Curl the last.
Yes, I am dead. Yet I feel alive. Elated. Fired.
Hooray! Tomorrow no exercise. Not in the morning. Evening will depend on my mood. But nothing as per my schedule.
Having started on Sunday, tomorrow I will also complete 2 weeks of Squat Every Day. 14 days in total. 11 days of squats. Hooray!
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Squat Every Day – Week 3 First Demon Conquered
Sunday. I play safe.
Starting from one set of 12 reps with empty Barbell I end up at 3 rounds of 1 rep with 190. Reverse the order thereafter and call it a day at 10 reps with 50.
It’s not any different on Monday. Except instead of morning I squat in the evening. Reach 190. One rep. One set. And then work backwards—one rep each with 170, 150 and 130. Followed by 3 paused “Ass to Grass” reps with 110.
A matter of fact workout. No pain. No high. No spectacular feeling. No difficulty in sleeping.
Tuesday morning too sees almost similar weight progression. 12 warm-up reps with empty Barbell (14 pounds). 8 with 58. 3 with 130, 140 and 160. End with 190 for 2 reps.
Nothing noteworthy except that there’s no pain.
The realization doesn’t dawn upon me spectacularly. No accompaniment of clapping thunders and dazzling lightening. No heady feelings. No happiness. No excitement.
Only a plain simple realization.
“That our body is capable of doing more than we ordinarily think it can.”
In merely two weeks and three days I get over the first demon of Squat Every Day.
***
Wednesday I don’t write.
Thursday. I am overwhelmed. No work in the office. Bored. No drive.
So much to write. So many things to write about. Unable to plan I take recourse to lethargy. To Internet. To WhatsApp. Read posts but don’t participate in chats.
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Life, as of now, feels dull. Nadir.
Present, it seems, is a wasted endeavour. Future appears like a fairyland. Entirely made up. What I am writing has refused to bring me delight. And turning like a diary...
“But hey, wait a minute, isn’t it how you had planned it to be?” I hear a voice counter. Argue.
I leave my chair. Get up. Stretch myself. Go out for a walk. The sun is dull. Slightly cold. A lovely afternoon. Except for the dog’s poop, from their morning and evening strolls on the footpath.
Bench Max Days
Yesterday, after reading some blogs on Squat Every Day and Bulgarian Training Method I make a slight tweak in the programme. Though my physique is a far from the one you would expect to see on a Weight Training feature, however, my back has responded better when compared with the front. Decent Triceps, Lats (Latissimus Dorsi) and Traps (Trapezius) but hardly any Chest (Pectorals), Delts (Front Deltoids) and Biceps.
Taking pen and notebook I sneak a new routine. Call it “Squat Every Day – Bench Max Days.”
Squat in the morning. Bench in the evening. For 30 minutes both the times.
Follow the evening Bench Press with the Hypertrophy protocol (3x10) with “Not Heavy Weights” for Military Press, Barbell Rowing, Barbell Shrugs along with Deadlift, Biceps Curls and Triceps Extensions.
I have tried Bench Max Days earlier as well but had to give up because of sheer fatigue. This time since the scheme except for reaching quickly after warm up sets to max weight for 1 rep hardly involves any volume, I am confident I will be able to continue with the effort.
In spite of the fact that I had Bench Pressed to the max earlier on and followed it through with 3 Back Off and Hypertrphy sets each, the first day’s “Bench Max Days” felt as if the load was tearing through the muscles.
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The count went like this:
Warm up with unloaded Barbell – 20 > 50 pounds – 10 reps > 90 – 5 > 130 – 1 > 150 – 1 > 160 – 1 (in pounds including the weight of the Barbell).
Hypertrophy sets can wait or may be creep in as the weight training progresses. Let’s see.
Worn
In the evening as I reach home it’s 8.15. My body feels warm. Feverish. I want to take an analgesic but do not.
45 minutes still to go.
Watch the serial my daughters and wife are watching. Take tea.
8.30. The episode ends. Help daughters with their studies.
9.10. I set up the bench. Begin Chest Press. Reach 160. For 1 rep. And stop.
Take off two 10-pound plates. Push for three reps. After which prepare the bar for Military Press. Don’t feel the need for warm ups. 3 sets of 10 reps with a weight little less than 60 pounds. Doesn’t feel heavy but I am tired. And after 1 set of 1, 2 and 3 Chin Ups call it a day.
Next morning wake up worn out. And still squat after seeing my daughter off at her school bus. The usual progression. Almost three weeks of Squat Every Day it has sort of become a habit.
In the evening I skip the workout. Yes, I am exhausted but that’s not the reason why I don’t exercise. Some pressing matter at home keeps me involved and I postpone the Bench Press and Barbell Shrugs and Deadlift for tomorrow.
Saturday. I whittle away. Engaged in some “Idiotic Fun” that we call “WhatsApp Discussion” keeps me occupied for a large part of the day and by the time I reach home even though the mutual yowl, snigger and jeer has ended it has added to the existing physical exhaustion.
Weary thighs. Warm torso. Stiff ligaments. Such is the lassitude that it feels that I have been dieting for ages.
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Toss in the bed. Listless. At the wee hours of 2.15 I take a powerful analgesic.
Sleep late since it is Sunday. Wake up and go for a meeting. Return home and wrap myself up in a blanket. Its warmth brings me some relief. Though the pain in the thighs keeps me awake but when the nap finally catches up it drowns me into a deep slumber.
End of Week 3. 21 days in total. Number of day squatted – 16. “Alright.” I hear myself say.
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Squat Every Day – Week 4
Monday. Except for being slightly cold there is nothing special about the morning. The two days break along with the medicine has had their effect. Even though not completely rested I wake up less creaky.
Go through the same Squat Every Day regimen. Stop at 190. Get ready for the office.
A few days ago I had asked my wife to make a video as I went down with 190 on my shoulder. What I saw did not make me happy.
Right at the moment I breached the parallel the sacrum lost its tautness. A slight cave in of the right knee. Torso taking a forward lean. Barely noticeable movements which, if not corrected, might not augur well for the future.
Then there is this slight niggle in the inside of the right knee, a ligament that is not happy with Squat Every Day. Perhaps trying to tell me that my posture is not aligned. Or perhaps the slackened sacral muscles and the tilt forward from the waist are putting undue stress on it.
May be it could be my Squat Rack. Which basically is a Chest Press Bench. Its Dip Handles supports the bar. Getting underneath the Rod call for certain maneuvers and since the width at the base is narrow it limits my ability to sufficiently widen my stance. Unracking the Bar too require deft handling and a few moments it takes to unload the weight from the shoulder to the handles my feet are at the max 6-8 inches apart. Since my stance is low the knee has to bear the brunt.
In any case I cannot pinpoint the exact cause. Actually, I am waiting to reach the end-of-weights at home after which I intend, either to buy a Squat Rack or join the Gym on the other side of the road in front of the gates of my apartment complex.
With 230 pounds of weights at home and 210 already done, it’s just a matter 20 pound or some decent reps with the existing number before I will have the chance to better understand why my right knee jitters.
Till that time I am being ultra-cautious. Staying just short of the weights that I have previously attempted.
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Confusion. Confusion. Confusion.
Monday evening I start with Bench Press and follow it up with Shrugs and Deadlift. The workout extends beyond the scheduled 30 minutes. I feel stiff. Rigid like a slice of bread ejected from a toaster.
Tuesday. The similar morning grind. Pain in the right knee seems to have a mind of its own and switches off and on as if it had developed a mood.
Unable to pin point its cause I go wild with my thoughts. May be it has to do with the knee’s wide arc when I am at the bottom of my squat. Perhaps I should be more diligent when I unrack and rack the weights.
Confusion. Confusion. And confusion. Lack of progress frustrates me. I am stalled. Unable to reach the “measly’ weight I had squatted some a week or two before.
Yet a ray looms out of the darkness. A faint beam of light. Three weeks that have gone by has instilled in me a confidence. Given me a hope that “Yes, I can Squat Every Day.”
Wednesday morning I don’t Squat. It’s the day of worship and fasting. Dedicated to Lord Shiva, the fiery yet one of the most “easy to extract boon” God from the Hindu pantheon. Daughters’ schools are closed.
In deference to wife’s sentiments I skip food and filling my tummy with a banana and handful of grapes I leave for office. With jujube and boiled sweet potato lunch is little better. I reach home famished. Finishing the last two of the remaining bananas and a bowl of big black grapes prepare for the Bench Press.
It’s the third consecutive day.
Fall Sick
The warm up sets tire me. My movement is slow.
The Pecs (Pectoral Muscles) seem to beseech me. Yet I continue. The joints creak and moan. But I don’t stop.
Three sets of five reps. 140 pounds. Eyeballs bulge out and press against the sockets. Racking the weight I rub my lids. Soothe its itch. Tired and happy I skip the next exercise.
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Sleep comes with difficulty. Spend most of the time turning sides. Wake up often. First to pee and then to drink water.
Leave the bed at my usual time. 7.40 a.m. See my younger daughter off to her school bus and returning home decided not to Squat.
“No am not tired.” Or so I thought. “But the right knee could do with some rest.”
Off to office. Unable to concentrate on the book in Metro. A sudden presentation. Accompany the team to the client’s office. A huge complex. A British architecture. But hardly any chair to accommodate the gathering.
Time stretches. From 3 the digit changes to 4. And from 4 it becomes 4.30. We stand. We walk. We chat. We laugh.
I was resting my butt against the banister when the cough started. The body felt warm and though I was damn sure I wasn’t running temperature but at the same time it felt like that I was in the grip of fever.
From toe to head everything ached. Returning home Metro threw its eccentric side. A once in a while occasion when instead of 8 you confront trains after trains with 6 packed coaches. I feel jittery. The station gets claustrophobic. Thighs complain. Mind wants to scream.
That evening it takes me 2.30 hours to get back home. 2 hours and 30 minutes I stand continuously on my feet. Tired. Dead. Sick.
Reaching home I pop up a powerful analgesic. Weight training was out of question. Tea, chat, dinner and reading and by the time I hit the bed it is quarter to one past midnight.
Friday. No exercise.
Saturday. Still not fit.
Sunday. That is tomorrow. I don’t know.
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Month 2
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Squat Every Day - Week 5
Sunday begins on a positive note. The popping of the analgesic last night has worked. No more aches. No more lethargy. Sleep though punctuated by dreams was deep and consistent, and having woken up in the same direction as the one in which I had gone to bed leads me to believe that I had not even turned sides.
I feel happy. Fresh. Filled with vigour.
I want to congratulate myself on the recovery but before I do so and go and Squat a question that lurked at the back of my mind wanted a definite answer.
Could this well-being be induced by the medicine?
Even though customary 8 hours had passed for the effect of the pain killer to wear off but before I rack the Barbell on my shoulders the doubt that had held its place needed to be driven away.
A sumptuous breakfast of Poha (soaked beaten rice lightly fried in oil with spices and lots of vegetables) and two bananas nourishes the spirit. Go out a while later with my wife behind me on the bike. Daughters stay back.
Reaching the field she dislodges me. Sitting on the front seat, changes the gear from neutral to the first and turning the throttle pulls away from me. As I watch her standing in the sun take umpteen rounds honing her riding skills my body felt good like it had never suffered from aches and creaks.
The Change of Tack Works
We return home cheerful and while she gets the daughters ready for their outing I reach out for the Barbell and begin the customary 20 reps to warm up my legs, knees and waist for the Squat.
Movement is not fluid. I pause often. Stop to catch my breath.
Load weights. Two plates of 10 kg (22 pounds) each. 10 repetitions.
Make a slight digression. Instead of the usual progression of 90, 130, 150, 170 and 190 pounds I tweak the weights and reducing the number of sets breach the 190 mark with which I have been regularly Squatting in the past two weeks and reach 200.
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Unlike the 210 pounds that had wreaked everything out of me I still seem to have life in me.
The change of tack that I had planned before I fell to Overtraining and sleeplessness had worked.
“Yippie!”
I am elated.
But it doesn’t last long.
“Will I be able to lift the same weight tomorrow?” I am back to my original state.
“Come on now you Doubting AJ?”
I smile but condition remains the same.
***
Three mornings. Three days of Squat Every Day.
The Monday routine is a copy of the one on Sunday.
Barbell – 20 > 50 – 10 > 110 – 5 > 160 – 1 > 190 – 1 > 200 – 1.
A slight variation on Tuesday. After Squatting 1 rep with 200, I strip the Barbell of 10 pounds and do one more rep.
Wednesday too is similar. Except that after reaching 200 I perform two additional sets without robbing the Bar of any plates. A hint of rigidity at the waist that I had felt yesterday has gone. But my right knee is still bothering me. Maneuvering the Bar from of the Dip handles of the Bench I observe that my right foot is ahead of the left and therefore taking more weight. Will try to correct it tomorrow, but I realize that joining a Gym or buying a Squat Rack may be the only solution.
It’s Wednesday today.
Monday and Tuesday have gone by.
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Saluting the Human Body
Friday.
At 2 in the morning after dunking in the bed for about an hour and half I find myself unable to sleep. In the grip of a strange sort of restlessness. The winter has metamorphosed into summer transiting through a stage when it’s neither hot nor cold. A kind of sandwiched state when you can neither cover yourself in the blanket nor cast it away.
I try to think of the woman who after a long time had seen my WhatsApp message and discover that my mind is in no mood to be tempted. It feels blank. Black as the darkness that surrounds me. Wiped out. A state of mindlessness. Dazed. At the wits end.
After struggling for 15-20 minutes I slip out of the mosquito net carefully opening just enough so that the bloodsuckers don’t fly in, use the loo, take 10 ml of Antacid to ease the hint of acidity and pop an analgesic while promising myself that tomorrow I will stay away from Squat Every Day—all in an effort to lull my body to sleep.
Morning I am quick to get out of the bed when my daughter comes in to wake me up. It’s 7.30. Exactly the moment when the alarm begins to buzz its soothing melody.
I don’t feel rested. Clearing the nasal cavity thrusts out gooey deep yellowish- green phlegm. I thank my body how hard it had fought the germs which had sneaked past its defenses while it tried to protect me from the rigours of Squat Every Day.
***
8.35 a.m. I return home after seeing off my daughter.
Not in mood to Squat.
8.45 a.m. My wife and I sit together for the heady tea, her specialty. Not in mood to Squat.
9.00 a.m. She leaves me to prepare breakfast and my office lunch. I still have 15 minutes before I get ready.
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“Why not some warm up and light weight Squats.” I hear a voice within me speak. Perhaps confident under the spell of the medicine.
Start with empty Barbell for 20 reps. Continue with 110 for 5 reps. Increase the weight to 170. 1 rep. Then after a little vacillation reach 205. 5 pounds higher than the previous attempt. And 5 pounds less than my Personal Best. 1 rep. Feels easy.
Strip the 5 pounds. Get down for 1 rep with 200. Remove 15 pounds. It’s 185 now. 1 rep. Another 15 pounds goes down. 170 pounds. 1 rep. Decreasing the gap after every attempt.
A relatively long rest. Get under the Barbell for one last time. Weights remain the same. 5 not to difficult Squats. And I am done.
I discern a pattern. It’s not Squat Every Day that is bringing me down.
The culprits rather are the other exercises. In the first instance it was Barbell Shrugs and Deadlifts. And now it is Bench Max Days.
Mondays and Thursdays of Heavy Bench Press. Followed by High Volume Biceps Curls.
Tuesdays and Fridays of High Volume Bench Press. Followed by High Volume Barbell Rowing.
And Thursdays usually heralding the night when my body refuses to take any more.
I whack my mind for the answer. Google search. Read. Think. Conclusion I return to is invariably the same.
“If not Squat Every Day, then what?”
The answers in life are not complicated mathematical formulas or some groovy philosophic parable. Rather it’s as simple as 1 plus 1 is equal to 2.
Find what can keep you going and then get going.
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Squat Every Day - Week 6
“How do you evaluate your progress? Answer in one word.” Into the sixth week. Time for some stock taking.
“Satisfactory.” Perhaps this is what I would have said if I were a school boy. Deep in the heart knowing that it was farthest from the truth.
“Ah, if only life were so simple.” I sigh.
Compare my progress with similar such efforts on Internet at the end of first month and you will discover that it does not stand anywhere. While the ones you will read about will wax eloquently on the impressive weights that they have added, in my case, if you go back perhaps to the second week, you will find that my weights have actually reduced by 5 pounds from my Personal Record (PR).
210 pound (95.5 kg) then to 205 pound (93.2 kg) now.
This doesn’t make me happy.
Having long rejected the mental frame that takes satisfaction from: “Yes, I have made my best effort,” I don’t have any cushion to fall back upon; no corner which can give me solace; no sponge that can soak my tears. The attitude such as this puts you in a glaring room bathing in light, all alone.
You confront you in the mirror that’s all over the place. No corner to hide. No opportunity to run away.
Either you resign yourself to your fate. Or stand up on your feet.
You look at yourself. Into your own eyes. The observer observes himself. Find the answer. Doubt it. Untangle each strand of your thought. The effort will torture you. Bear it.
Stare. Laugh. Cry. Weep. Give up. Whatever, you do remember one thing: just don’t walk away. Using mind to penetrate mind like Siddhartha before he became Buddha.
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Everyone can Give Up
Returning home from office in the evening Metro as usual provides just enough space to stand comfortably. With a pack on my back and a monstrous carry bag containing a huge packet of sweets someone has gifted on the occasion of Holi in one hand I find a secluded place near the automated gates. I am tired. Weary. As I shift my weight from one leg to another and make way for the disembarking masses I feel a faint nick in the right knee.
It had appeared yesterday, that is on Sunday when I had Squatted and had went on to complete a couple of Back Off sets after reaching the max at 205 pounds. The sleep too when I had gone to bed in the afternoon was hard to come.
The weariness continued well into morning and even though I had reached 205 pounds after not many warm-up rounds, I had done so with the mind, heart and body all going their separate track. Twinge in the knee seemed to have become an inseparable part of the pain package getting pronounced while taking stairs or at certain angles after putting my weight on the right leg.
In evening as I reach home I give Bench Press a miss. Next morning I do not to Squat. And as the day wore on decided to give myself an off for the entire week.
‘Maybe will resume on Sunday.’
‘Or maybe Monday...’ My mind thinks frenetically. ‘..and use this interval to stretch the Adductor Muscles, increase its range of motion so that when I go down next on my squat my knees are sufficiently wide apart and stable and except for acting as levers do not get bogged by the weight on my shoulders.
Time to do Something is Now
I was in the bathroom one evening a few days ago when the idea of checking my Squatting stance hit me.
Legs little more than shoulder width apart. Check. Feet turned outward at 30 degrees. Check.
‘All set.’
Back jutting out from Sacrum goes down. Check.
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Knees bend and move outwards in an arc. Check. Torso leans forward to balance the weight. Check. Thighs reach parallel. Check.
‘Stop.’ And I pause. Look at myself.
Image from the book “Starting Strength by Mark Rippetoe” flashes across my mind. Everything’s perfect.
Except for the knees.
‘They should have been more wide apart.’ But I dismiss the thought.
As the pain in the right knee continue to crop up every now and then the image begins to haunt me.
I had known that the inner thigh flexibility was an issue with me. Months ago my wife had pointed this out when I had become stuck trying to sit cross-legged in the Yoga’s Padmasana pose and had suggested that I practice “Butterfly Stretch” to loosen them up.
What I had not known was that the two were related.
The time to do something was now.
To begin with I went through the pages from “Starting Strength.” Reread the paragraphs and internalized the photos that Mark had used to demonstrate the stretch.
Improving Adductor Mobility turned out to be at the top of the agenda for the rest of the week and I would continue to practice it till the time Padmasana would turn into a breeze.
Tame the Mind if You can
If you want to do a thing, mind, as is its nature will get you 100s of reasons not to do it. And if you don’t want to do something, it will find you 1000s reasons why you should not do it.
Like water it wants to maintain a level of inertia. And like friction needs effort to
41


get out of its comfort zone. In the past that’s what had undone me.
Overzealous in the pursuit of Knowledge, when the Ultimate finally dawned upon me—or so I thought—it prevented me from the immediate and resulted in a state of stupour, engaging only in activities which I simply could not avoid. Such as eating, defecation, procreation and sustenance.
As the time went by I realized that the “Knowledge of the Ultimate” has the possibility to make you the greatest mind and yet at the same time it can also easily turn you into a nincompoop, a shithead.
A malaise of the mind. A philosophy celebrating death. That’s what I had turned into. That’s what I am trying to undo.
Oh, too much of bloody digression.
Well, going back something akin had happened when I decided to take a week off. Reasons why it was absolutely necessary came flooding into the mind. Most of them attacking the basic premises of Squat Every Day.
First and foremost, a weekly off every 4 weeks.
Quite a few Heavy Weight Training Protocol advocates it. Reason being that the body battered week after week of weight training needs rest and utilizes this time period to heal itself and build muscles. Quite logical.
As for me, I wanted to use this gap to enhance Adductors’ flexibility, repair/ strengthen right knee’s ligament/ tendon/ cartilage and to get my nap.
Secondly, wanted to use this interval to take a stock of my evening Weight Training Schedule, that is the protocol that I follow apart from Squat Every Day. Even though, I have been experimenting, as I had written earlier, quite often but it was taking a toll on my body. Unable to sleep as soon as I hit the bed in the night it was affecting my well-being and most importantly, getting in the way of establishing my own line of work.
As I come to an end to this section, which incidentally also heralds the end of the week, I just hope that whatever I have thought, whatever conclusions I have arrived at, whatever premises I have based my reasoning upon stand the test of time.
Tomorrow it’s Sunday. A new day. Beginning of a new week. New hopes. And new aspirations. Most of all, new struggles and new conclusions.
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Squat Every Day - Week 7
Definitely it is not one of those days you look forward to.
Slept at night unsure about the path I had taken. Wake up in the morning to the SMS from the office to reach an hour early.
Feel sucked up. Stuck. Certainty gone for a toss.
Sunday, that is yesterday I had squatted after a rest of 5 days. Walking inside the weight room I felt gung-ho. Body totally rested packed inside itself a panache. Steps moved as if it was filled with verve. Warm up with two 10-pound plates loaded on a 6.3 kg Barbell. Follow it up by another set of 20 kg.
Slick movement. Not even the slightest hint of a pinch.
Increasing the weight and the decreasing the repetitions I reach 205 pounds. I thought I saw a micro mm cave-in as the ligament on the inner side of the right knee creaked and the form took a dip.
I stop. Remove one plate from each end of the Rod and Squat for one rep. Strip one plate again from the both the ends and get down for one rep. Continue with the pattern. Shed the Bar off the weights and as the heaviness decreased the reps increased until it reached a measly 110 pounds on the shoulders. 10 reps with it and I call it a day.
Yet another nick to be fixed. And a major one that is. Form.
Fixing the Form
Monday. Nothing great about the day. Do not go beyond 170. Three reps. Noticed something interesting. When you decide beforehand that you won’t go beyond a specific number even if it is low you can rely upon your body to support you. 170 pounds even though was an easy weight but thighs at the end of the third repetition felt as if it had moved a mountain.
Form seemed alright but the pain persists.
Taking recourse to Google Baba I read what I have already known—hoping to find something that I might have earlier missed.
I broaden the scope of research. Read about the musculoskeletal structure of the
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right knee. Try to understand its Bio-mechanics. Watch videos.
Conclusion wasn’t startling. I had fair idea of it all along. That the right knee was caving in. But the question still confounded me, ‘Why the hell was I doing it?’
It wasn’t for the first time that I was Squatting but why was the right knee troubling me now?
Could it be age? Could it be the Squat Every Day protocol? Or Could it be...?
As the last question hit me it felt that even in thinking about it I was committing a sin. But the answer was loud and clear. Only testing it remained.
Form Fixed
March 07, 2018 (Wednesday)
Tuesday I wake up much before the snoozer of the phone, kept on a cane stool slightly away from the bed to wishfully be out of reach of the rumoured tumour- causing radio waves, could terrorize me with the alarm. Go to the toilet. Brush my teeth. Come out. Have tea. Go inside again. And once again a while later. The high fibre in my high carbohydrate reasonable protein diet wrenched inside the intestines seeking escape.
I start with the warm-ups while our daughters get ready for the school—I told you I had woke up early. Weights went up in small increments while, as a major change in form, I try not to widen the knee arc as I had (mis)understood from the tome by Mark Rippetoe “Starting Strength” I reach 200. I keep the stance I had always used. No knee pain. Legs that half-an-hour ago sulked like an unwilling partner made no complaints.
I had attained a kind of mindless state. Squat for one rep. Rack. Add weight. Wait. Saunter to the Squat contraption. Get beneath the Bar. Squat again. Add weight. And Squat. Add the last two small plates of 5 pound each. Reach 200 pounds. The load that had crunched my nerves and my confidence.
Walking back I count the numbers again. It had felt easy. I knew that 210 would hardly tax me.
And yes, it did not.
***
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March 09, 2018 (Friday)
Return home in the evening tired. Have tea. Chat with my wife. Gossip. While our daughters making a pretence of studying chattered. No exercise slated for the evening. In fact I have slated nothing for the week for the evening. Intend to shift them entirely to the morning coming Monday onwards. Meanwhile, only squatting, squatting and squatting.
In any case, the plan, if at all it can be said, has only improved the fatigue marginally.
I am weary.
It could be the season. Which is changing. Hot during the day. Cold at night. Body trying to adjust to the contrasting temperatures calls itself sick. Yet I cannot afford to fall ill.
Pop a Paracetamol. I know it’s not good. But at least it’s not the more potent Paracetamol-Ibuprofen combination. I reason. And sleep.
Wake up exhausted in the morning. Fatigued. Do not Squat.
A mindless day. Presentation at the Ministry. Reach 15 minutes before the scheduled hour. Wait endlessly. Everyone concerned about their own time. No one about the others. Finally, things start moving. More than 2 hours late. Footsteps scurry. Laptops readied. Last minute pep up. Minds prep up. Subordinates file into the room. Bosses don’t make it. What was a grand presentation turns into a damp squib. Files have to have their notings. Formalities have to have been completed. Deadlines have to have been met. The wheels of progress have been rotated. Yes, it has moved. Covered a distance. And like a confounding definition of Velocity the sum total value, in this case, turns out to be zero.
A day, yet another, gets over. Everyone has earned their living. Life goes on. Wheels, reaching nowhere, are on the move. I don’t know of the world but I have Squat Every Day to turn to. It jolts me. Keeps my sanity intact. Shagged.
Next morning. A new day. The usual beginning. 30. 50. 90. 130. 170. 190. Effortless progress. 210. My Personal Record (PR) so far feels easy. Slip two plates of 2.5 pounds on each collar. Take a long break. Ask my elder daughter, who is at home because of gaps between the exams, to make a video as I get below the Barbell for the Squat.
“Start.” I say.
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She taps on the screen. A faint nick as the phone activates its video mode.
I wait for a moment. Rack the Bar on my shoulders. Clear myself off from the bench. Move a step ahead. Two shallow breaths and finally a long one inhalation. Descend. Reach parallel. Ascend. Walk back. Rack the Bar.
“Stop.” I say.
Exult. Share my success with my wife while our daughter stands by our side. Go on to take photos of the only weights—two plates of 7.5 pounds each—that remain on the floor and the tiny bit of space that lay vacant at the ends of Bar. And thereafter do another set of 1 rep. It hardly taxes me. One more set of 1 rep. It seemed I could go on and on. Yet another set of 1 rep. I felt unstoppable. But the clock stared menacingly. It was the time I left for the office.
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Squat Every Day - Week 8
March 12, 2018 (Monday)
The joy of Friday doesn’t last the next day and completely tapers off on Sunday, when it was only after a considerable effort that I could push through one rep with 210.
Right knee is troubling me again. For a change, it’s the outer side this time. In fact, the pain has been with me right since Saturday when buoyed by 4 sets of 1 rep with 215, my PR on the previous day I try to replicate the numbers.
200 was difficult. 210 required every effort. And 215 was exhausting to the core. I stop.
My ambition crushed. Pain resurfaces.
Even though it did not stop me from going through the daily grind of the holiday but time and again it reminded me of its companionship. Standing outside at the shop while my wife bought the daily provisions I would frequently shift my weight on the left leg.
Climbing the stairs to my house on the fourth floor I would often stop before I put my right foot on the step above and pulled myself up. And while trying to snatch a nap in the late afternoon it would constantly seek my attention. Except for turning sides and changing angles between lower and upper legs there was nothing I could do. Relief was miles away and even the sleep could not bridge the distance.
Add Secondary Exercises
March 13, 2018 (Tuesday)
Monday doesn’t change much. Reach a slow 210 and stop. Added secondary exercises that I had dropped for the whole of the last week. Shifted them from the evening as it would not let me sleep as soon as I hit upon the bed.
Two rounds of Bench Press. First incline. And then flat. With Barbell Rows at the end of both.
Three non-stop sets of 10 reps each. Start with narrow grip. Change to normal
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while the rod rests for a brief moment on my chest. End with the bar held wide. It’s just 10 kilograms on both ends but my Pectorals are on fire. I want to stop. Yet I continue. Racking the bar like a man drunk. I pause for a while. Then unrack the weight again, put it on floor and start Barbell Rows. 20 reps. Lungs gasp for breath. In. Out. In and out. Feels I am sprinting.
Rest. A long wait. Heart beat stabilizes. Unhinge the bench. Flatten it. Rack the bar. And go off with the second round. Narrow. Normal. Wide. 30 reps non-stop. Plus a Superset of 20 reps Barbell Row. And another Barbell Row after things becomes normal. A mind boggling 120 reps.
As I sit with my wife and have tea I tell her the story of my first day in the gym.
Round after round. One body part after another. Hardly any weight. Without any pause.
Mind blank. Clean. Totally wiped out. Giddy. Scurrying out of the basement. Out in the open. Back against the wall. Hands holding the head. Elbows resting on the knees. Toes supporting the weight. Me oblivious to the world. While it passed by me eyeing me concerned. And vomit. Sit long after. Till mind gets its thoughts.
That’s exactly how I am feeling now.
Getting up I watch my chest. Puffed up. Fascia stretched. Too much blood in there now. Delivering food. Removing wastes.
Get ready for the office. Sapped off energy. Yet energetic. Raring to Go
March 14, 2018 (Wednesday)
Sleep at night comes with difficulty. Yes, I am tired and may be Squat Every Day has a role but primarily it’s on account of the change in weather—it’s usually the case with me during this point of the year. I wake up 30 minutes late. And decide that I won’t train with weights.
Get ready and go out with my younger daughter to drop her at the main gate where her school bus will pick her up. The short outing has done me good and even though I had slept for less than 5 hours I decide that I will go and Squat.
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Sit with my wife and have tea while our elder daughter studies for her exam. Fifteen minutes later our short moment of togetherness gets over. My wife gets up to prepare our breakfast and for her aerobic classes. I spring to my feet and set up the Bench for Squat.
Do away entirely with low weight warm ups. Start with 90 pounds. 8 reps.
130 pounds. 5 reps.
170 pounds. 3 reps.
195 pounds. 1 rep.
205 pounds. 1 rep.
Take a long break.
Add 2.5 pounds to both sides. 215 pounds.
I am at my PR.
Rack the bar on my shoulders. Maneuver out from the Bench. Stand.
No crunching of iron on the bones. The weight sits easy on my shoulders. Knees taut. Held firmly by the ligaments. No twitching of muscles. No grimace on the face. Everything’s steady as if waiting for the command.
A few short breaths. . Followed by the big one. I go down. In control. As if in a flow. Reach parallel. Spring back.
One rep and I rack the Bar.
It’s the third time since Friday that I reach my PR and it feels that I am raring to go.
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What You Make of Life is up to You
March 15, 2018 (Thursday)
As I sit for my breakfast—an assortment of boiled and diced Sweet Potato, a Banana, a Roti, a bowl of Curd, a spoonful of Sugar and a half a spoon of Chia Seeds soaked overnight in water apart from another Roti taken before the workout—I realize that mind is an overzealous character. Yes, it has infinite potential. Yet, it wants to limit you. Seeking to protect you it wants you to stay in its prescribed zone. It doesn’t want you to venture out. Stops you from getting into unchartered territories. With chemicals as its weapons and nerves as its agents it spreads pain all over your body.
And yet there’s a thin line. A safety margin. Like the expiry date in a medicine. Like the deadlines in the service manuals of a machine. A space you can tinker with. Play around.
I explain to my daughter who is perched across the table, studying a while ago. Now trying eagerly to catch my words. Nodding. Conveying to me that she is making the effort to understand what I am saying.
‘Just think of it,” I tell her. ‘You had seen how tired I was last night.’ I pause. ‘I had hardly slept. Not more than 4 hours. And had woken up tired. In pain. Not at all in the mood to lift weights.’ Her eager eyes fixed on mine. ‘Yet I reach my max. My PR.’ She looks at me expectantly. I thought I saw a hint of smile on her face. Yet another sermonizing by a father to his daughter. I dismiss the idea and continue with the monologue.
‘Don’t listen to the mind! It will deceive you. Is possessive about you. Go beyond it. Step out of your comfort zone. Though reluctant it will follow you and realizing that you are made of a stubborn stuff will in turn help you reach your potential.’
She bobs her head. I realize that a large part of it has hit a stone wall. On the other hand I am also fairly certain that she has caught the gist. It’s up to her what she makes of it.
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