I’ve given up on lifting weights.
I joined a gym a year and a half ago in a burst of energy and optimism. After a life of never having to worry about my weight no matter what I ate, I’d started to put on a little bit of mass around my middle. My old pants and shorts no longer fit me – I had to move up a size. And one day my brother one day noticed a little belly bulge underneath my shirt where there hadn’t been one before. So on Martin Luther King, Jr.’s birthday last year, I wandered over to the local New York Sports Club, took a tour, and decided to join.
I threw myself into it enthusiastically. I went to the gym six days a week – three days of cardio, three days of weights. I worked with a trainer, who set me up on a plan. Every six weeks or so, he changed the plan to keep things interesting. I started buying protein powder and had two or three glasses of protein drink each day.
During the first few months I saw some improvement. My weight quickly returned to normal and I was able to fit into my old clothes again. And I put on a little bit of definition in my upper body. It felt good. And I’d probably get even more definition by summertime!
But at some point my upper body stopped growing. I could never seem to increase the amount of weight or number of reps as much as I wanted to. In fact, I’d often go through several sessions of not being able to increase it at all. I’d meet with my trainer and we’d switch the routine again, and sometimes I’d return to a machine or exercise that I’d used previously but at a lower weight than I’d been using the first time around. I’d inevitably get frustrated.
So two or three months ago I gave up. Screw it. Cost-benefit analysis: I was spending all this time trying to make gains and not getting anything out of it. What’s the point?
I’ve decided to just do cardio from now on. The weightlifting was really just for aesthetic reasons – I hoped to get a defined, muscly body, and it didn’t happen. But the cardio’s for health reasons – it’s good for the heart, circulation, and metabolism, plus it keeps me trim.
And I like how I look, to be honest. I’m not musclebound by any means, but I think I have a nice, trim shape.
So no more weights for me, and I’m happier for it.
Okay, now you’ve depressed me, since I’ve been working out and have just started to be able to say to my reflection, “Hello, arms!” : )
I’m focusing primarily on running right now. I’m not sure how much muscle I can build but, unlike you, I came at working out from being a big ol’ fatty fat.
Lifting weights isn’t just for looking muscly. According to the AARP magazine (yes, at twice your age I easily qualify), after age 30 your lean muscle mass decreases by about a pound a year. To keep it from turning into belly fat, the buff folks at AARP recommend lifting weights three times a week.
I understand your lack of motivation, though. I’ve always lusted after definition (and the defined). When I was in my late 40’s, I worked with a trainer three times a week for nine months. After cruelly raising my hopes, he finally concluded that toned and slender was the best I could hope for. Of course, I immediately quit lifting. But remember, even if you can’t preen on Fire Island, you’re less likely to break a hip. Think long term.
I’ve had the same experience. I had to sacrifice my gym membership 2 years ago when we bought our house. I tried to exercise doing calisthenics and dumbbells but I just didn’t have the committment and motivation. Since I had a better job and more money, I rejoined my gym back in May. I started out going Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday and kept that schedule for about 2 weeks. But then, ultimately things came up and I had to miss a day or three. I get there about twice a week now. I bought a training DVD that came highly recommended and for a few weeks I thought I was seeing results — but now things have stagnated.
It is depressing, because I’ve internalized this image of how I should look to be considered attractive and since I don’t match that image and since I can’t seem to attain that image, it’s frustrating.
Still, I’m paying enough for the membership each month that I’ll stick out for a while longer.
I wanted a gym membership in New York, but couldn’t afford it and there wasn’t anything convenient in my neighborhood. Plus, gyms in New York are just as crowded as everything else and I don’t think my anxiety would have allowed me regular visits or a productive time there. I’m much happier walking from my new apartment about 150 yards to the clubhouse to use the gym there (that’s included with my rent, which is still less than I paid in NY for a much nicer apartment), where it’s usually just me and some fat lady huffing away on the treadmill. It’s like some kind of beautiful dream. The downside is…I have to shower by myself at home so no cheap thrills.
The hardest thing about going to the gym isn’t what you do there; There’re always elements of your workout that you’ll dislike — always. The hardest thing about going to the gym is arriving.
rob@egoz.org
This is why I’m convinced that all those muscley guys over a certain age are on steroids or something. However, that doesn’t stop them from being super hawt.