Personal Trainers.....Some are good others are not.

Over the last few weeks while availing myself of a few different fitness facilities I have made it a point of observing and even listening to the interaction between trainers and their clients. I have done this in the past also and am always fascinated by what I see and hear.

Before I get into my conclusions let me say this to you. Before choosing or even shopping for a trainer, know what you want and why you want it. What you want and why is not for the trainer to decide. You alone need to consider how your wants either meet or conflict with your actual needs. A trainer is there to help you meet those needs as realistically and safely as possible. He or she is not there to dictate your needs.

One thing I always look at when observing a trainer in action is how hard is their client working. Are they applying themselves with diligence and purpose or are they moving listlessly from exercise to exercise with no real motivation. If the latter is the case then the trainer is not earning their money. The only conversation occurring should be for the purpose of evaluation.

"How are you feeling?"

"Can you do another repetition?"

"Inhale strong and exhale stronger!"

If the conversation is of casual subjects and not exercise related the client is and the trainer are not serious in their endeavors. This means the the client is fooling himself and the trainer taking money for being a conversationalist instead of being a trainer.

At least half of the "trainers" I observed were of this type. Their clients were barely breaking a sweat in their cardiovascular routines and not being challenged in their resistance exercises. Conversation seemed to be the order of the day with the exercise, usually a dry and repetitive series of machines or weights a seeming a sideline.

These are the trainers to avoid.

Look for the trainer who keeps their client moving quickly from exercise to exercise.

Look for the trainer who leads his client in different and challenging regimens.

Look for the trainer whose clients sweat and look like they were challenged physically after every workout.

Look for the trainer who questions his clients effort and motivation in a positive and productive manner.

Look for the trainer whose clients come off the machines or put down the steel to do old school, kick-ass floor exercises.

Look for trainer whose clients show progression in weight, repetitions and attitude.

When you are finished in the gym you should be tired but refreshed at the same time. Your heart rate should have been up, sweat should be flowing and you should feel like you accomplished something. If your aren't then you aren't working hard enough.

If I see you at the gym I always ask;

"Are you working hard?"

I ask this not as conversation but to remind you that you are there for a reason.

"Work Hard or Go Home!"

A Thanksgiving Run For Me!

Years ago when I was young skinny and had a head full of red hair I was a distance runner. Those of you who did not know me back then may not know this fact. As a Salem High School student I ran on both the cross-country and indoor track teams. I ran some good times mostly as a result of good coaching (the Great Dunsky) and from competition from a great group of runners. We were a powerhouse in the distance events and especially in cross-country. I had the pleasure of training with a who's who of SHS and north shore distance runners; John Hogan, Joe Cooney, Brian Lockard (DIV III all-american at UMass), Matt Thompson, Tommy Hogan, Vince Swiniuch and more than a few others. Dunsky and these guys are the only reason I graduated.

I didn't do much running after high school except for the daily PT run until I was posted to Fort Carson in Colorado. Shortly after arriving there I made the mistake of betting a younger medic that would beat him in the 2-mile run part of the PT test. We were drinking that night so a lot of side bets were also made. Well, to keep it short I was in a lot better running shape than I thought and the kid and I finished in a stride for stride tie in 9:49. Those daily PT runs were better for me than I thought. The Sergeant-Major of the battalion was there and before I knew it I was running in competition for the battalion and the 4th Division. I didn't want to but a Sergeant-Major generally gets what he wants.

I ran on a fairly regular basis through the 90's. When I lived in Hampstead NH I even had a summer where I did 30-40 miles a week. My knees began to bother me in my early 40's and I have done no serious running since. Five or six years ago I did run the annual March cross-country 5K at the Salem Green's. With a 3/4 effort I finished in 30 minutes. My knees yelled at me for the next week.

Due to a change in footwear and a stretching routine my knees feel better than they have in years. I have begun to run a slow mile on the treadmill as exploration. No ill effects beyond the normal soreness and stiffness have manifested. I will slowly increase the distance and will loop the inside of the Salem Common once or twice next week.

The reason for all of this? Simple. Come Hell, high water or armageddon itself I am running the Wild Turkey Run on Thanksgiving morning. I've already signed up.

"Damn the torpedo's full speed ahead!"

Searing Anger

I just knocked this out after a day wandering the streets of Salem with my my usual determined purpose. My intent each day is not evil. I do what has to be done and that is all.

SEARING ANGER (or wasted energy if you prefer)

On Andrews there lives a woman

whose anger most certainly breathes.

The flames of annoyance do fuel her

and cause her emotions to seethe.

From a window she spy's something orange

that bring from her embers a spark.

She bolts to confront the transgressor

to bare yellowed fangs and to bark.

The Bald One listens in wonder

from where this vile anger was borne.

It lives in breathtaking splendor

while inviting observers to scorn.

He walks quickly in befuddled amusement

As she sputters and continues to scorch.

Her heat builds fast to enkindle

the anger she wields as a torch.

Where We've Been and Where We Are

The Salem News today stimulates my memory and causes me once again to consider where I am and where I've been over the years.

Similar to an earlier post about a very good friend who has fallen on hard times due to his own foolishness, I muse on another guy I knew when I was young.

In 1973 the public grammar school I attended closed as I completed the 7th grade. I had attended the Hawthorne School since 5th grade. It was located in the old St.Mary's School building where I had endured kindergarten through fourth grade. St. Mary's was the first parochial school in Salem closed by the archdiocese of Boston. The city rented the building as a public school for the next three years. 1974 brought me to the 8th grade in the Phillips School which was just around the corner.

A few of my friends from the Hawthorne came with me to the Phillips. It was a bit of an adjustment for all of us. We were the interlopers and the put upon at the same time. The kids at Phillips were a bit nervous about us (Hawthorne had a rough reputation) and we were unsure what to expect at Phillips.

This guy was one of the first kids I encountered. He heard how I pronounced my name, LA-GO, as opposed to LA-GALT and used the "Leggo of my Eggo" commercial to bust my balls. He would run up to me in the hallway between classes, shout it out to me and then run. I would chase him for a bit and then go to class. This went on for the entire year. He got some sort of rush from the whole thing while I kind of got tired of it. As the year went on I would chase him less and less until I didn't chase him at all. The fact is I had no interest in catching him.

High school came and he and I encountered each other very little. We ran in different circles. The one thing I noticed is he always had very good looking girl friends. He seemed personable and popular.

Fourteen years ago I returned to Salem. Eventually I asked about him. Family members, his brother in particular would change the subject quickly. I later learned he had been arrested twice in child rape charges and in between those incidents jailed twenty years for the rape of a Salem State College (now University) student. He was released a few years ago and according to police records was "homeless" in Cambridge.

It turns out he was not in Cambridge at all. He has been living at his sisters house here in Salem and working as a roofer. Today he is on the front page of the Salem News after being arrested again for rape.

I look at his picture. Hard eyes, tight tense lips, slicked back hair and try to reconcile this appearance with the smiling, personable blond kid who playfully provoked me to a chase 35 years ago. It doesn't fit. It doesn't make sense.

Look at where you are today. Look around at the people you have known for years and where they are. Realize and appreciate that whether it be by design or by circumstance we are what we have become.

A Push Up Challenge at the Salem Y!

Four years ago I began working with the young son of a friend. He was 13 and was looking for a way to build some strength and become a better athlete. He wanted to be able to throw the baseball harder and to jump higher.

I told James that I could help him with that. Specifically I promised that if he did the exercises as I taught them in a dedicated fashion he would become stronger but more importantly he would become better conditioned. At the end of the game I promised, he would still be able to run as fast and jump as high as he could at the beginning of the game. That alone would give him a huge advantage over stronger, faster opponents. James worked diligently and after four years he has come far. His fastball hops, over 80 MPH and his leg strength is superior. He also wrestles for St. John's Prep Danvers, MA and made some varsity appearances in both sports in his sophomore year of 2009-10.

This is not about all of that.

James decided that this was the year he would challenge and beat me in doing military style push ups. I teach this exercise very strictly and have yet to have a client be unhappy with the results. He challenged me at the beginning of the summer which gave both of us time to prepare. I taught James a palms on the floor version of the classic "Jack LaLanne" push up in order to help him prepare. His Dad kept me apprised of his dedication and progress and began in the last few weeks to drop hints that I was going to get whipped.

Well, not being a fool and also being a gentleman of a certain age (I was born at the end of the "I like Ike era") I took steps to insure that I also would be ready.

Today the day of the challenge arrived. James and his father Peter were waiting for me when I arrived. First we agreed to flip a coin to see who would go first. We also agreed that the basic military rest position would be allowed (ass raised to take the stress from the arms and shoulders but no contact with the ground except for hands and feet). You could assume the rest position as often as desired but only could hold it for a five count. Peter flipped the quarter, James called heads. When the coin hit the floor it rolled for about twelve feet and for a moment we thought it would stay standing on it's edge. When if fell, it was heads. James opted to let me go first. Bastard!

We then warmed up. James did some dips and a couple of pull-ups. I did 20 Jack LaLanne push-ups on my finger tips. That may have psyched him out just a little bit. There was method to my madness.

His Dad did a set first just for kicks. Peter is 54 and had never been a muscle head but keeps himself in good shape. He did 46 but I think could have done 8-10 more.

Down to the floor I went. I had rested my upper body for two full days. I pumped out 40 good strong ones before choosing to rest. Perhaps I should have gone to 50. Hindsight is 20/20. I assumed the rest position and then did 10 more. After that I did increments of five until I got to 60. From 60 to 70 it was three or two until I got to 71. There were a few left, but at 50 years old I worry about injury when fatigue reaches a certain level and decided discretion was the better part of valor.

James was up next. He also did 40 good strong reps before resting. I had to remind him to go good and low a few times but overall they were good solid push ups. He began to slow down after 45 and ended at 56. I think he could have done a few more but I am still in his head a bit.

He did very well for a 16 year old. We don't do the push ups your average high school athlete does. Ours are full range of motion, chest to the floor, elbows straight at the top, ass staying level with the shoulder push-ups. They are not for the week end superstar.

Just for the hell of it we all did a second set after a ten minute rest. Peter did 51, I did 47 and young James went to 52. He got me there. Recovery comes faster at the younger age.

I have no intention of letting him catch me next year, but think his intentions may be different.

Nocturnal Trepidations

Dreams simple and unadorned. We all have them. This was written in 1999 after almost twenty years of the same dream.

I am slowly moving uncontrolled through a dark forbidding space surrounded by numbers that exude malevolence and are too large to be counted, but I attempt to count anyway. The more I count the larger and more the numbers become. The longer the dream the more desperate and helpless I become. When I wake in the dark, alone in the room sweat is great and cold on my body, my mouth dry and sandy and my throat and chest tight as a drum.

NOCTURNAL TREPIDATIONS

The dreams began so long ago,

across a country and an ocean.

I do not know from whence they came

or what put them into motion.

They start out with the counting,

numbers that never cease.

I swim and pitch amongst them

and feel the anger of the beast.

The monster lives within me,

but to others is not there

but in nasty little glimpses

which emerge from latent fear.

My sleep is seldom steady,

as I fight with restless ghosts.

The mother of my silent screams

rules nights as loathsome host.

To wake and lie in horror,

as the night begins to creep

move the numbers ever closer

as the terror makes me weep.

A bottle calls me clearly,

as a place where I can cower.

Old Jack and number seven

give the numbers greater power.

Time is not the answer,

as the numbers still remain.

They linger in the darkness

as a subtle soaking pain.

BaldBil's Scotch & Cigar's Night!!!

This coming Thursday, August 5th is the date for the 4th Annual BaldBil Scotch & Cigar's Night. It will be hosted by my good friend Clayton Green. Clayton is a member of the Salem YMCA Board of Directors and is gracious enough to allow me to use his expansive back yard for this event. We will have a fine selection of blended and single-malt Scotch whiskies for guests to sample provided by Quality Liquors of Salem and Kappy's of Peabody. Mike Allen of the Red Lion Smoke Shop on Washington Street in Salem is providing the cigars. Mike will also speak briefly on his choice of cigars and will answer any questions you may have. He has traveled to the source on a few occasions and and has an extensive body of knowledge on the subject. Last year he explained why some cigars are somewhat square in shape. Clayton will prepare some caribbean cuisine. He makes a great hot sauce that is both spicy and full of flavor.

Of the two YMCA fundraisers that I hold each year this is my favorite. You are guaranteed to meet a great and interesting group of local characters and raconteurs.

The Salem YMCA provides many opportunities for the kid's of our fair city to participate in educational and productive activities which assist them in their attempts to become good honest members of society. I have had the pleasure and privilege to see and experience this first hand. Their is no cause closer to my heart than this one. Their services range from pre-school and day care to teen programs. We all at one time or another in our lives have been a part of the problem, this is a small chance for you and I to be a part of the solution.

I look forward to seeing old friends and to meeting some new friends at this event as we sit and socialize with Clayton for a great and worthwhile cause.

See you there!