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Month 3
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Squat Every Day - Week 9
A Shitty Week
I am caught. The path in which I was moving seems to be blocked. Even though I am squatting at an average rate of 5 days in a week my heart is not into it.
Too many things taking place. I am getting possession of a tiny box that I had booked many years ago in 2012. Even though I have managed the big sum required for its registration with the government authority but the money that I need for the indoor woodwork is eluding me. The builder on his part is evasive about the penalty he has to pay. Shifting dates. New deadlines.
Too many things to think about. Too little time to talk about them with my wife.
Then there are issues with weight training. In spite of my best efforts, adding exercises for the other body parts is leaving me drained at the end of the day.
“Bench Max Days” has metamorphosed into “Bench Hardly Any Day.” Even though I have reduced the weight but a combination of Barbell Shrugs and Deadlift is leading me in the direction of deficit. Military Press at the best is on an ad hoc basis. Biceps Curl and Triceps Extension it seems I have forgotten when I had last tried them. Rowing has become a major row. Chin Ups depend on personal whims. And running...? Oh that was more 3 months ago in December last year.
I am also dissatisfied with my progress with Squat Every Day. The fire of the beginning exists merely as a glowing ember. I know I won’t let it die but am equally doubtful whether it exists even as a potential. Stories of whopping gains that fill the Internet hardly reflect in my numbers. On the 5th of January, a little more than 2 weeks before I had started on the path, I had squatted with 210 pounds. Now, even after 9 weeks into the programme I am still at 215.
March 21, 2018 (Wednesday)
Yes, I am dejected. De-motivated would be even more appropriate word. Yes, I am down.
No, I am not out.
No. Not yet.
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Giving up is easy. You can do it any time you want.
Say, it’s a hypothetical question; even if you give up what action will you substitute it with? Can you give up breathing? Can your heart give up its beating? Can mind stop thinking? It’s our efforts that make us. Rest everything is death.
Moksha. Nirvana. Kaivalya. The Ultimate.
Remember, even after attaining Enlightenment—the dawn of Knowledge that transformed Siddhartha into Buddha—He came back to the world.
Agreed that He had a perspective. A wider worldview. But it also called for new struggle. New efforts.
The Conclusion
The On the whole it has been a pretty shitty week. Having added a 15-minute run in which I had covered 1.91 kms had brought pain to the legs.
Even though I had continued to Squat with my PR weight (215 pounds) most of the mornings apart from reaching my PR on Flat Bench Press (170 pounds for one rep) it hardly brought me any satisfaction. Friday (since I had to go for the registration of our new house), Saturday and Sunday I do not Squat. Cursing myself, I fret and fume. Take off from the office to attend an exhibition at our daughter’s school. Returning home we hear of an old lady’s demise. She was on life support at the hospital for most of the month. A feisty woman, very small and frail, and extremely sweet and devout. Attend her cremation on Sunday and sleep through most of the day.
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Squat Every Day - Week 10
World Comes Shattering Down
The week begins on a high note. No squat in the last three days and lots and lots of long afternoon naps get me waking as if I could lift any weight. However, on approaching the Barbell I am hesitant. Start with the usual warm up. One set of 10 reps. With nearly 50 pounds. Add 20 pounds on each side. Eight reps. Continue making gradual increment of 20 pounds. Two sets of 5 reps. Which later gets reduced to 3 reps. And finally settle down at 1 rep. 190.
Time’s up. I come down four flights of stairs with our daughters walking jauntily ahead of me. The school bus is late. I watch her chatter with her friend. The elder one looks on nonchalantly and when it finally arrives 15 minutes late helps her get inside it and together we walk back. Me looking forward to Squat and she, perhaps wondering, how to skip studies.
Entering the house I head straightaway to the weights. The Barbell with a combination of rubber, rubber wrapped iron and iron plates sits quietly on the Dip Handles of the Bench. On its rear where the leg attachment is screwed to the plank; an old mattress on it acts as a counter-balance preventing the front from tipping forward. I am also toying with the idea, as the load gets heavy, of replacing the mattress with the LPG cylinder, which waiting for its turn to be hooked to the stove sits near the window.
The corner adjacent to it is occupied by a book rack. Its top peaked by heaps of cartons contain rarely used knick-knacks in their bellies. A steel wardrobe in the corner in front of packs clothes and a TV trolley between the two serves as the refuge of newspapers and of things which are infrequently used but do not have places assigned to them. The room on the whole is a cluttered space and while Squatting I have to carefully lay the Bench diagonally across slightly off the centre so that Bar on the shoulders do not nip against the newspapers on the left and the door on the right.
Reaching the rack the first thing I do is to squeeze the weights together and to pack them tightly as a massive whole next to the inside collar. What I was trying to attempt was going to be a personal milestone. A long fascinated dream, which when I had started Weight Training I had shuddered even to think about. I ask my daughter to get ready with the phone to make video of this landmark mass.
No, it’s not much of a weight. I agree. A paltry 100 kilograms. 220 pounds. That’s it.
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But look at it from the perspective of a man. A someone who could barely Squat with 40 pounds when he had started. Whose shoulders scrunched when he racked the Bar on the Scapula. The skin bereft of a cushion either of the muscles or fat crunching against the bones. Forcing him to use a towel as he gritted his teeth while going down and getting up.
Friends with whom he exercised on the roof where they lived were helpful and encouraging. But the visitors often were not that charitable. Even if they didn’t intend to they could not do away a snide remark or a mirthful glance or help with a friendly laughter. I don’t blame them. If I were in their shoes even I would have behaved likewise. For a guy with barely skin over his bones who loved reading, ate nothing and smoked in between the sets exercising with a weight any normal guy would have broken “Shotput” World Record made a funny sight.
I understand that I am getting nostalgic and as much as you would like to read the story and I want to write it now let’s keep the endeavour for some future date. It’s a long anecdote. With many twists and turns and lots of on and off. Long breaks. Frustrations. Exultations. Spanning decades. Almost a Biography.
March 28, 2018 (Wednesday)
I resume from where I had left. 205. 215. Hardly any hesitation. Feels that I go further.
I take time to settle my mind. Calm the exciting electrical impulses that are firing in the brain. Take a long gap. Sip tea. Watch silence envelop me. Bending down I pick up two tiny 2.5 pounds plates and add them on both the ends of the rod. There’s hardly any space left. If I tip on any side the margin for error is slim. Clear the clothes hanging on the line for camera’s clear sight.
Get under the weight. Lift it up and walk ahead. A few short breaths followed by a big gulp. Puffed up stomach distends towards the front. Valsalva maneuver. Go down. Get up. Step back. And rack the weight.
Review the video. Though not an expert but give the form a right tick. Happy. But strangely no exultation. Finish the last dregs of the tea. Chat with wife.
A while later get underneath the Bar once again for one more attempt. The movement down is little fast. Torso at the bottom of the motion bends forward. A slight jerk. A hint of uncontrol. Reach for the roof. Bottoms up. Thighs don’t feel the impact. Maybe the mind was nervous. And was trying to hurry up.
Understanding the cue I stop. And continue this time with Back Off sets. Strip
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down the plates. Three reps with 190. Remove another 20 pounds. 170. Wait. One set of 6 reps. Wait. Second set of 4 reps. Wait. Third set of 4 reps. Thereafter, I call it a day.
April 04, 2018 (Wednesday)
Ennui, boredom, lethargy, a bump (folliculitis) inside the left nostril along with many twists and turns of life keep me occupied for the rest of the week. Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday (since it caused some mental confusion I have begin to add Sunday as the end of Squat Every Day week rather than the beginning I had considered earlier) I don’t exercise. I spent much part of the day nursing the pain and pop pain killers three times to numb the nerves in the left part of the head pulsating with ache.
It’s the second week in continuation that Squat Every Day has turned into Squat 4 and 3 Days respectively in a week.
I am sad. Dejected would be the right expression. Finances are stretched. Office is tight fisted. Work is suffering. The joy of reaching my Personal Record (PR) on two alternate days has vanished. Instead a doubt has taken its place. I am down. Unable to understand what to do. I don’t see a way out. That’s the worst thing. I want to wallow in self-pity. But such is my condition that even that is not an option.
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Squat Every Day - Week 11
Wait. Endless wait. For things to brighten up. Nothing happens.
The same old story continues. Life like sand insists upon slipping out of hands. Leaving nothing untouched. Even my writing is affected.
April 06, 2018 (Friday)
Week 11 too is turning out to be no better than the previous two weeks.
It’s Friday today and I have squatted just two days – Wednesday and Thursday.
“What the hell I’ve turned myself into!”
I am frustrated. Totally off. Cross.
Too many things taking place at the same time. None of which is in my favour.
Office is acting cranky. I have become costly for them. Unable to generate work they perhaps want me lay myself off.
My commitment has also waned. Especially after it deducted from my remunerations the salary of the days spent during hospitalization. The work too that I was promised—a new venture that I was keen upon and for which I had agreed to join this office in the first place—did not materialize. Caught in the same rut that I had sought to escape I feel choked.
April 09, 2018 (Monday)
But whatever the reason it’s not enough of an excuse not to Squat Every Day.
As for the two days that I had squatted I reach 100 kgs (220 pounds) on the first day with some ease. Rest for some time and go for another set of one rep without removing any weight.
Two sets of one rep each with my PR is another milestone. Next day I stop at 210 pounds.
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And for the whole of next week, that is Friday, Saturday and Sunday I do not go near the weights.
With just 2 days of squatting it’s a “Squat No Day week.”
“Is it the journey’s end?” I find repeatedly asking myself. “When I have just learnt to walk.”
Turning the pages of my notebook I am hooked by this passage.
“The challenge is not just to Squat Every Day. But also to keep your sanity intact—working through the day to earn your living; reading and writing and putting up with your boss.”
And with this I cross the mandatory 300 words which the SEO demi-gods consider the minimum number for a positive ranking, and I want to stop with the full stop.
But the optimist in me resists. Next week. New dawn. New hope. But I am not too sure.
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Squat Every Day - Week 12
April 10, 2018 (Tuesday)
Monday morning sees me occupied with other things. As a result I postpone Squat Every Day for the evening.
Reaching home at the day’s end I have on WhatsApp the latest photos of the apartment complex in which we had booked a flat eight years ago in 2010. Since then we have displayed patience, jitteriness and a feeling of extreme helplessness, so now looking at the badly shot pictures of the finishing touches it appears that our waiting will get over in the next few months we are naturally excited.
We chat. Remember the days. The struggles. Our long faces when the work had come to a standstill. While our daughters study and the minute hand of the clock completes a full circle.
At 9.30 we force ourselves to leave the sofa. My wife gallops inside the kitchen and I stroll into the weight room. Lying adjacent to the wall I don’t have the gumption to move the bench and remove the cane swing, two rugs and squat and chin up belts for Back Squat.
Instead I take the Barbell and prepare for Front Squat.
10 warm up reps with just the rod. Add weights. 44 pounds. 10 reps. The Bar crunches against the bones. Front Deltoids hardly has any mass to cushion the crush. Throat and collar bones bear the grunt. Thighs scarcely feel any impact.
Getting the Bar moving from the tips of the index and middle fingers to the palm to firmly grasp it to bring it down calls for a scripted maneuver. And for a brief moment the pain is excruciating.
For three sets it continues in this manner after which I stop. A new schedule is beginning to firm up in the mind.
183 Reps in One Day
Next morning that is Tuesday I sequentially reach 210 pounds and stop after completing 1 rep. Thereafter, go for Cory Gregory inspired “Bench Max Day” with extremely low weight.
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30 non-stop reps. 10-10-10 with narrow, normal and wide grips. Change of hold permitted with the Barbell resting up on the chest. On an incline bench.
Followed immediately after (Superset) by Barbell Rowing. 20 reps. Lungs heave. Muscles burn.
Rest till the time the breath gets in order. Then start again. This time on a Flat Bench.
On three or four occasions earlier I had tried and every time ended with the feeling that it wasn’t possible for me to do it, as recommended by Cory Gregory, every alternate day, three times in a week. For three weeks. After which you ramp up the sets to 4 days in a week. First day heavy. The second day light. A day’s gap. Then you repeat the process again.
As I complete two sets I am amazed at my middle aged frame to bear the brunt. As I total the numbers I feel a deep veneration for the human body.
In all I had completed 138 reps. 38 Back Squats. 60 Bench Presses. 40 Barbell Rows. Yet feel sprightly enough to take on the day and do 45 Front Squats after I get back home from office in the evening.
183 reps in total. 83 Squats. In one day. A big number. Unbelievable. I bow my head with respect.
End of the Hectic Day
Next morning I take big jumps in the warm ups. Reach 195. Then stop. But not before completing 1 rep each in three sets.
Strip down the weights thereafter. And when the Barbell is empty add a 10 pound plate on each side. Set the bench at its highest incline. A makeshift arrangement for Preacher Curls. Load another set of 10 pound weights on the EZ Bar and commence the first set of 30 reps. 10 with narrow grip. 10 with normal grip. 10 with the Bar held wide. Non-stop. Loft the Barbell lying on a stool to my adjacent as soon as the set gets over and begin 20 quick reps of Military Press. Followed by a set of 15 reps of Triceps Extension with EZ Bar. Weight remains unchanged.
Rest for a while. Wait for the heaving chest to normalize. After which pick up the EZ Bar for another set of 30 reps of Standing Biceps Curls and follow it up with yet another set of Military Press and Triceps Extension (manage 20 reps).
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Leave the weight room. Get ready for the office. With the intention to run for 15 minutes in the evening.
Well, plans at times turn otherwise. Something urgent comes up in the office. Work gets dragged on. Approval takes even more time. Don’t do much except wait and curse and reminding myself not to curse. I reach home at 9.45. Have tea, chat for a while, have dinner and sit at the table to complete my night’s quota of one hour work. Finish it and roll in bed at 12.30.
Cold morning. Wake up 10 minute before the alarm goes off. Twist and turn, groan and moan for another 20-30 minutes and then leave the bed. It is 6.40.
April 20, 2018 (Friday)
Hurry through the ablutions. Get the daughter in her school bus. Return. Have tea. Chat. Postpone Weight Training till the time it began to get heavy in my chest.
Start with Back Squat. Taking it slow and easy. Reach 100 kgs. 220 pounds. 1 rep. And then commence with the Back Off set. Remove the plates. Take it roughly to 80 percent of my 1 rep max. 185 pounds. 3 grinding reps. Saps me of my last bit of will and I rack the Barbell. I look up at the clock. 50 minutes.
I still have time on my side. Begin the fast and furious Incline Bench Press tri-set of 30 reps in total, superset with a Barbell Row for 20 reps. Get breath in order and repeat process with flat Bench Press. It takes 20 minutes. Which means too long a rest. I shake my head. Not done. I hear it say. But I have started writing down the timings. The first step towards improving things.
After the fiasco of the Weeks 10 and 11 things have turned for better. Trained for 5 days. Spread over mornings and evenings. Back Squat for 4 days. Front Squat on 3 days. Besides, I have also succeeded in adding other exercises. Only one thing remained amiss. Deadlift. Not a big deal. I am confident that in subsequent days I should be able to be regular with it.
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Month 4
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Squat Every Day – Weeks 13 to 15
The Epilogue
The desire to write is waning. In fact for almost whole of the week I have hardly keyed in anything. Lots of things going on simultaneously and I’m unable to concentrate. Work is suffering. Weight training is suffering. Mind having undergone so much of implosion has stopped thinking.
Why? I ask myself whenever I open the word file to punch in the experience of the day.
Nothing stirs. Mind like a slate remains blank. Total reverse. Of Buddhahood.
The electrical impulses have refused to fire and brain, yoked, I don’t know on what, continues to stare back at the white screen waiting for the fingers to stir.
Most of the last week had continued in this manner.
But today, the Monday of the 14th week I am adamant. Trying to seek the answer I press hard. After 2-3 hours of hitting my head on an illusory wall I catch the first hint.
“Is it because I have reached the 100 kg landmark?”
Possibly yes. 100 kg was a psychological milestone and the one’s whom I knew and were regular in the gym affirmed that it was a significant number. Their answers made me happy but I knew that this wasn’t the complete truth. Even more important was the fact that I knew that it wasn’t a number to dance and sing about.
Soon enough another facet peeped up.
“Could the lack of space on the Barbell for weights be the reason?”
Quite so. As a counter measure I had initially planned to join a Gym but dropped the idea and instead decided to concentrate on increasing the number of reps to 5-6 with 100 kgs before going in a public place with Squat Every Day. In the intervening time, as I thought, I would also add to numbers on my Bench Press and the light weight high volume Biceps training would add mass to the arms.
Ah! If only wishes were horses!
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Increase in girth was another issue and it felt deplorable that even when the belt went in its original loop, the tummy hung from it making me look, even though I was slightly over 70 kgs (at 5 feet 6 inches height), fat. As a result I have curtailed my diet with the aim to reduce belly by 1-2 inches and decrease weight by 2-3 kilos without making any compensation in the weight training.
On the contrary it has caught me in the Catch 29 situation.
“Could Gods have something to do with?” I dismiss the thought.
My mind goes berserk looking for anything to pin blame upon.
“Or may be it has to do with the onset of summer.”
The Sun getting nearer to me in the Northern Hemisphere could be one of the reasons. “Or could the friendly bacteria living inside me be scheming?”
Ha... ha... ha!
Scattered Thoughts
Bloody hell. I want to Squat Every Day but the mind is unable to and the body simply refuses. It has resulted in longer unscheduled breaks and recurring pain in the thighs. I have also started running, actually a combination of run and walk for 15 minutes, to reduce my time for 5K run from 27 minutes to less than 25 minutes. The event most probably will be held in August, close to four months away and the desire to perform better is killing me.
***
It’s not just that only Squat Every Day has suffered. My work too has been affected. Even though the volume is piling up but I simply sit, stare at the screen, flit through articles and do nothing.
***
After 3 months of starting with Squat Every Day I have a semblance of a routine. I am much more hopeful and the proposition of Squat Every Day has ceased to be daunting. The road ahead is paved. I can see way ahead. And that exactly is giving me jitters.
***
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May 05, 2018 (Saturday)
I don’t exercise. I don’t do anything. Just stare at the monitor. Waiting for the day to end, to go to bed, sleep and wake up the next morning and get on with the rut. Day after day it goes like this and except for reading books on Kindle and hurrying through what’s urgent I achieve nothing.
***
At times I run. At other times I train with weights. And when I am at it I feel unstoppable. But the next morning witnesses the onset of the same harried tale. I wake up on time. Leave my daughter to her school bus. Come back. Sit on couch, have tea and laze around; closing my eyes for five minutes after which I intend to walk to the weights. But by the time I actually I get on my feet it’s the time to leave for the office.
Try Tabata Protocol
Tried Tabata Protocol yesterday. A 20-second all out assault followed by a 10-second pause. 8 rounds in total. For 4 minutes.
As suggested by Dan John in his book “Never Let Go” picked up Front Squat. No weights. Just my 6.9 kgs Bar. A few more than 70 reps in total. Do not puke. But come quite close. No strength in the legs. Knees felt they would cave in any moment.
Sit on the sofa and wait for tea. Get up after a while and leave for bed. Finish the cup and sleep waking up long past the time it was to leave for office. Get late.
***
No work in the office. The boss sends me for a meeting. Reach there at 3. The briefing starts at 5.30. No data except that we have to firefight and capture people’s minds. His and ours, the heads are on crosshairs. He chimed.
By 7 we are free. Reach home. Don’t run. Climb on bed. Lull our younger daughter, who is unwell, to sleep. Have dinner and at 11 open the laptop and work till 12.
The day ends and the memory of the morning Tabata battering seem stale like an old tale.
***
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Next morning I wake up fine. Little droopy, yeah, but fine. For the first one hour everything’s alright. And then as I wait for tea the pain catches me unawares. I ask my wife for a paracetamol and gulp it down the throat after taking two biscuits and wait for its action to rid me off the temperature that was rising inside me. Thighs are tight, I feel slightly restless as well but that’s a condition I am used to. The back seems immobile. Deltoids having been subjected to 26 Chin Ups (2 sets of 1-2-3-4 and 1 set of 1-2-3) the evening before yesterday appeared vexed.
Tomorrow our daughter wants to visit Nehru Planetorium. For wife learning to ride the motorcycle is a priority. In the evening we have to visit our new flat to see how they are shaping up its interiors. Then there is the Lawn Tennis lessons we wish to start. We sit in the Living Room and chat unmindful of the clock, it’s each tick reminding that I should get up and get going for the office.
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Last Words
This new house that I have shifted to is extremely short on space—just two small bedrooms and a drawing room that is more of a common area. The result is that my exercise bench, which was unscrewed in two while shifting, still lies separated—one part in the balcony and the other, the rack portion, in the passage by the main door.
Yes, we have a gym in our apartment complex. But it seems that it was set up just to show that our builder like others of the ilk, who show their commitment to environment by painting the project in green colour, offers every facility. With a rudimentary list of equipment that includes a multi-gym, two treadmills, two stationary cycles, a stepper, two benches, one adjustable and other flat, and six pairs of dumbbells in the increment of 2.5 kg starting with 2.5 kg and ending at 15 kg, it has room for hardly any protocol.
On the other hand, in spite of my wife and I whacking our heads discussing every permutation and combination we are unable to find a place to set up the bench at home. Nothing works except to visit the gym to see if I could make anything worthwhile inside it.
I spend the first few days sifting around with dumbbells and sizing their weights, trying my hands at working out, trying to get out of my comfort zone. Coming after a long gap it feels good but I know that until I found out a protocol that could tame my “butterfly mind” the sheen of branded pieces won’t be able to keep me hooked for long.
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Author
Anand Jha has been engaged in the business of writing for close to 20 years. A passion that ignited during his school days, his earliest published works included letters in prestigious publications such as The Illustrated Weekly of India and India Today.
Having started his career writing scripts for television programmes on Doordarshan with the passage of time he went on to contribute to India’s leading newspapers and magazines such as The Times of India, The Economic Times, The Pioneer, Patriot, Jetwings, Femina, Swagat and American Express Card Member’s Expression among others.
He is also interested in photography and these have been extensively carried in various publications.
However, what he counts as his biggest achievement is the appreciation he had received from world-renowned short story writer and novelist, Ruskin Bond.
Besides, his early travel blogs carried in the internationally acclaimed travel portal (kinetictravel.net – now closed) got him the opportunity to write for the Time magazine. But, sadly, what he wrote turned out to be “hardly worth anything” and was consequently rejected.
At present he is involved as Consultant (Communications) with advertising agencies while at the same time managing his own enterprise in the field of Social Media.
Subjects that interest him include: Fitness, Food, Travel and Books.
You may also visit: www.anandjha.in
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“When he finally reached the end of his quest to understand life, he discovered that he could as well be a stone.”
- From
But Buddha Why Did You Leave Your Home
(Coming soon)
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