Meet Obe

So…..the last time we heard from our brave hero, he had decided to do something completely kooky, like put in writing that he was going to enter the 2011 Bill Grant Classic (bodybuilding for the uninitiated).

The first couple of weeks went well…cut my calories down to around 1,200 a day and dropped a quick 20 lbs. But let’s be serious, that only made me less fat. And really hungry.

One day I actually started looking around Planet Fitness and realized they had about 65 lbs. of free weight total, so if I was going to actually give this plan a shot to succeed, I may need to think about an alternative place to train. Oh…and I almost got thrown out of PF for wearing a do rag. It seems that putting a bandana over my bald head intimidates the casual gym goer. Really? I mean, I’m 5’9” and 260….and my bandana is all of a sudden going to put Margie into a tailspin. I know….maybe they don’t want to see me flying my gang colors….but I digress.

A day or two later I’m driving by 15th and Sumner for the millionth time, and I see the signs for Colisium Gym in the old sewing factory. I’d seen the signs before….but this time I decided to stop and take a look. If you like the look and feel of Human Performance Center at OAA, this is not the gym for you. You climb three flights or stairs, all the while noticing the dirt and dust along your path. When I got to the gym floor, I saw tons of free weight, cables, a few machines, and six treadmills from 1978. The first thing the owner informed me of as I toured the facility is that they were an A/C free zone. The clientele were all serious juiceheads, loud rap music pumping, and the smell of sweat and pain. I immediately knew this was my new gym, as I pulled out my credit card and signed on for the first month.

I started lifting the next day, pulling out my old workouts from college. Pecs, delts, and triceps one day, back and biceps the next, followed by legs. Moderate weight, everything 3 sets of 8. Hello strength training 1985

On Maggie’s birthday (July 14th), I went to the gym in the afternoon after her birthday party instead of the morning. I was in the hip sled, pushing some weight when I very large African American man came over and introduced himself to me. Hi, my name in Obe, and I’m the head trainer here. I knew he was Obe as his picture was littered all over the gym, but meeting him in person, I could tell he probably lift my car over his head. He asked if I needed some help, and I told him I was all set, so he walked away.

I finished my workout and found him over at the registration area. I told him I wanted to talk to him in about a month, once I was in good enough shape to even consider working out with a personal trainer. He smiled and told me he could take me from where I was to where I wanted to be. He knew how to work with people in less that terrific shape and challenge them to achieve their physical goals. He was willing to help me as I was.

And stupidly……I believed him. I bought into this theory that he would consider my current shape and take me on a journey at my pace. So, I told him I would start with him on Monday morning, 7am sharp.

I knew I was fucked when I got there and he paired me with Anthony, I motivational speaker about 10 years older than me, who had obviously been working with Obe for a little while. Obe took us over to a flat bench press, and put 95 lbs. on the bar. I was thinking to myself, That’s cool…I can bench a lot more than that. This will be great! Obe looked at me and said, ok….warm up. Give me seventy. I tried to unclog my ears and said, 17? No….70. Without stopping. Who’s going first? Anthony jumped onto the bench and whipped out a quick 50. Took a miniscule break and finished up. During this time, I was looking for a possible way to find the exit without looking like a total puss…..but didn’t see the opportunity. I laid onto the bench, hammered our 46 until my chest just shut down. After a minute I pushed out the next 24, sweat running down my face. Obe smiled, and informed me that we were cracking the shell. That’s what they call the first week of workouts, when you may experience a little muscle pain. So, Obe starts giving me different exercises, mostly with lighter weight that I’m used to, but with a ton more reps. 4 sets of 20. 3 sets of 25. My favorite was when he decided we were going to be German one day…..10 sets of 15. Pull ups, then inclined bench presses. No end in sight….just keep moving the iron.

By the third day, I could barely walk. Sitting down became a challenge, and many of my coworkers could occasionally hear me whimpering in my chair. Obe liked to crack shells with a sledge hammer.

Speaking of sledge hammer, my fifth day was tire day. Obe laughed when he informed me that he never told people when tire day was coming because 30% of his clients would be sick that day. Have you ever dragged a truck tire up and down a 75 ft. parking lot with a rope? It’s an experience for sure. Don’t even think your arms and shoulders will help you…it’s all hips and butt. The above sledge hammer was used to try to put a hole in another truck tire. Nothing like 2 minutes of swinging that hammer for me to thank god I wasn’t a railroad worker in 1868. That was the day I realized Obe was one sadistic dude. He just sat in his lawn chair under an umbrella drinking an ice coffee, telling me to pull hard, swing harder, keep working.

By week 2, I was no longer popping 8 tylenol a day; and while the workouts weren’t any easier, I had become Sisyphus, pushing the rock up the hill everyday. Oh, and did I mention I had to get up at 5:45am to accept my beatings? In case you didn’t think this was painful enough, I was giving up 2 hours of sleep a day so I could get my beatings.

In week 3, I hooked up with my two workout partners. Anthony had become a regular with me and I had decided I liked his Marine barking whenever we got a particularly hard exercise. Pat is a chiropractor with two small kids and the same kind of desire / fear as I have. They have become friends, kindred spirits and my partners in sweat and pain. That Wednesday, Obe told us we would not be lifting weights, to do 24 minutes of solid cardio on any machines we’d like (not that they have many to choose from, and two of the 8 they have are broken), and meet him at the treadmills. If you’ve never had the pleasure of doing a 30 minute structured workout on a treadmill being run by a psycho, you haven’t lived. 5 miles per hour at a 4 degree incline for 3 minutes. 6 miles per hour at an 8 degree incline for 90 seconds. 3.5 miles per hour at a 10 degree incline for 2 minutes….of and that’s backwards. 22 minutes into the workout, I left my treadmill, staggered into the men’s room and promptly threw up into a sink. With spittle and bile still on my chin, I went back out and got back onto that instrument of death. Obe smiled….wandered over as I was running up the 15 degree incline and told me things would be easier since I should feel lighter. I got my unspoken acceptance into the gym that day, not because I tossed my cookies, but because I finished the workout. I was now a true member of Colisium Gym.

After 4 weeks in the middle of a Friday guns workout (Obe likes to tell me I won’t be able to fly anymore because they won’t allow my guns on the plane. I laugh as I look at a few of the guys in the gym who’s arms look like my legs), Obe tells us that next week is Core-dio week. I repeat, Cardio?...and he says, no, core-dio. A week of nothing but working the core. “That sounds, great”, I lied. My core has always sucked, just check out my gut if you weren’t sure about that assessment. On Monday, he gave us one abs from hell workout after another. My favorite was the one involving knee pads and the bottom of a rolling trash can. The one exercise he gave us he said confidently, 4 sets of 20. I could literally do three. It was perhaps my most frustrating day…and the only one when even for a second I considered bagging it. But after spending the rest of the day on a liquid diet since eating solid food hurt like hell, I dragged my ass back to the gym at 6:30 the next morning for another round of beatings. I tried, and sweat and cursed every morning. Anthony was traveling, so he only did Monday and Tuesday. Pat had a golf tournament, so he missed Friday. I did take a small amount of joy in the fact that swinging a gold club brought him a bit of groin pain.

I have become a disciple of Obe. He is sadistic, and he has given me some of the most unconventional and difficult exercises I’ve ever tried. He even introduced me to the “lane of pain”, which could be a whole other blog. He has also helped me become more muscular and put me in far better cardio vascular shape that I’ve been in a long while. I have done things in 6 weeks I never thought I could ever do. I feel so much better about myself, and what I can achieve. Oddly, I have not lost any weight in my time with Obe, but my clothes fit much differently. The Bill Grant Classic may not be a total pipe dream after all….at least I have put myself in the position of being able to really make this happen.