Zero To Hero Week 5: 4 Signs Your Mate Has Started Gyming
You know people talk about the 1000 club, or cracking triple digits? For 26 years my biggest lift was a cereal bowl that I’d flooded with a little too much milk. And the spoon was no easy task either. Plus, the furniture arrangement in my lounge is what you’d call “feng shui” if “feng shui” meant leaving it exactly where the movers put it down.
It was in this state that I crawled over to David Cross’s gym in Pinelands. I looked around at the jungle of steel torture racks, iron spheres, and weird circular black objects (I’d later find out they were called plates) and begged him to turn me into something vaguely approaching a functional human. Well, at least equip me with the strength to stand up next time a slightly-plump kitten decides to curl up on my chest.
The good news: I’ve already moved one of my couches – it was the small one. The better news, I’ve figured out the first warning signs that your mate has started lifting.
1. “Does this have protein in it?”
Doesn’t matter if it’s a mango, the new iPhone or the unleaded petrol, we’ve just got to know. With great power, comes great responsibility (to hit those macros). And squeezing out every single gram of protein out every single morsel of food becomes a fanatical pursuit.
2. “Sorry I can’t, I’ve got plans.”
This is a more obvious red flag. Especially, when it’s a Friday night. And even more so if he’s busy shaking up protein powder in an oversized shaker (bonus points if he adds “Bru”, “Bro” or “Brah” to the end). If he’s skipping happy hour, he isn’t skipping leg day.
3. “Nooo! Not Bulgarian.”
I mean, I’m sure they’re great people. But chances are if a workout as the word Bulgarian in it, it’ll be the most tortuous, leg-destroying version of that lift. However, the gains you’ll make splicing just one of these imported moves into your gym session are worth it.
4. “You guys go ahead, I’ll catch up.”
Your mate is limping, desperately trying to pretend that his body is working as intended. But at least once a week your friend has become the human equivalent of the blue screen of death. Yes, he will blame Bulgaria. Yes, he will keep going on and on and on about it. No, he doesn’t need a mobility scooter. Well, he does, but he won’t admit it.