Build a Bigger Bench Press
by Mike Dolce
“Hey bro, how much you bench?”
That question is the town motto in Meatheaddom. You’ve been there, right? No?
Well certainly you’ve been past there? No again? Well, you’ve certainly heard of it? Still no?
Oh, I see, you must be a pencil-neck geek!
Let me take you to a little place called MEATHEADDOM. In Meatheaddom, everyone walks around with his or her arms flared out wide. They all suck in their stomachs while taking a way-too deep breath in to puff out their chests. Typically, their shirts are two sizes too small, that is, if they are wearing a shirt at all. And, only the most noble of its inhabitants ever wear shorts because that is reserved just for those who are brave enough to train their legs.
I must say, I was a transplant citizen of Meatheaddom, there on a student visa. I wasn’t born there, in fact, I was born and raised in Pencilnecktown, so close to Meatheaddom I could smell the broccoli-flavored protein farts and yet, so far away, it would take me years of sacrifice just to get there.
Back in high school, I was a 114 lbs. soaking wet. I was in honors math, honors biology, honors English and I could do my homework in about 10 minutes while eating breakfast before school. I never studied and aced all my tests. For whatever reason, academics came easily to me.
As much as I loved sports, I wasn’t exactly good at them. Sure, I won best defensive player a few times in basketball and soccer as a kid, but that was mostly because I was smart enough to see the plays developing before they actually did, and I didn’t really care what (or who) I crashed my body into.
Ultimately, I wanted to be tall and wide and pick up beautiful blonde haired girls two at a time and walk down the boardwalk with them like I saw in magazines or in the movies. My genetic code, on the other hand, felt I’d be much better suited to a life in a lab coat or lecturing in a hall, maybe even drawing up plans for a new bridge.
In my heart though, all I wanted to do was MAKE GAINZ!
At 12 years old, I lied about my age and signed up to train at a local gym. It was a real dump. Brick walls, rusty iron and some of the strongest most God-awful muscular inhabitants I’d ever seen. These guys (and girls) walked around in bright neon clown pants and once bulky sweatshirts cut so thin they looked like a stripper got caught in a knife fight on the way to train.
Enter Meatheaddom!
I’m pretty sure I was invisible in this place, as people would just take the plates right off the bar I was using or step past me and start doing their set exactly where I was doing mine. Maybe they thought I was the gym mascot, or maybe Haley Joel Osment in “The Sixth Sense”?
Whatever, I was here to make GAINZ and had no problem walking to the other side of the gym to grab another set of weights or reverse the order of my exercise to accommodate Joey Jabroni’s workout.
As time passed and my membership fees added up, I watched what the biggest guys in the gym were doing, and I analyzed their training. I always carried two notebooks with me. One dedicated to my workouts and the other dedicated to charting the training systems of other lifters in the gym. I would meticulously record the exact workouts they did, every weight, every rep, every day; and I would calculate their percentages. In a few months, I started noticing patterns.
It seemed the biggest, strongest, most consistent guys 1) dressed the worst 2) had developed an intricate system to facilitate GAINZ. These systems held stark similarities between the training routines of other advanced lifters.
Some of these hulks were strictly training for hypertrophy, or muscular size increases. Some were competitive powerlifters, hell-bent on testing the tensile capacity of the extra durable barbells. Others were strongman competitors and Highland Games athletes, who really seemed to look around the gym or parking lot and say, “Hey, let’s see if we can pick that up and throw it.”
Regardless of their specialty, there were many universal principles each group would adhere to.
Through the methodical study of these training patterns and daily trips to the library, (yes, this was well before anything called the internet was even thought possible) I was well on my way to uncovering many secrets on the path to ultimate massiveness.
In time, I was not only accepted by the citizens of Meatheaddom, I was given the keys to the city, training with the biggest & strongest of the population. My crew was always set apart and even revered by the rest because we always wore shorts, as we had earned that special right praying for GAINZ at the alter of the squat rack, and GAINZ we did make!
During the past 25+ years, I have continued to apply and refine many of the techniques I saw in those days and have proven many more to be absolutely worthless. The moral of my story is that just like my time passing through Meatheaddom, we should also be just passing through our own training programs.
As we stimulate our body to respond, the response inevitably becomes lessened through constant stimulation. This is the best and worst part about training. Our body adapts. As it adapts, it becomes increasingly proficient at performing specific movement patterns with specific loads at specific intensities in specific orders on specific days.
The best training program is most certainly one that is not fixed for any length of time but one that adapts to you as you adapt to it.
As a result, I often find most pleasure (and progress) in focusing on my weakest body parts or movement patterns while maintaining the strength in areas in which I am strong or balanced. Once my weaknesses improve, other weaknesses, relative to my new strengths are uncovered. In this way, I can constantly adapt, improve and evolve my training system while never plateauing or backsliding into overreaching or overtraining syndromes.
Now, when people ask me that coveted question, “How much can you bench?”, I reply honestly: “With what grip, at what angle, in what month, at what bodyweight, in what order, for how many reps?”
My time in Meatheaddom was an enjoyable experience, but I now prefer living in Functional MuscleVille much more. (It smells a lot better, too!)
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