A Dog is a Man’s Best Friend
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I’ve been a bad boy, a very bad boy. Laree, loving wife that she is, hates to see me suffer and go through life joylessly. She’s watched me drag myself to the gym day after day and throw my battered and aching body into the iron arena for combat. She’s witnessed my severe lifestyle void of worldly pleasures and the allurements of society.
Moreover, the saintly woman has sat by my side as I’ve opened yet another can of tuna, spooned it directly into my mouth and downed it with a gulp of water. Shiver, gag, scream! It is no secret that she, too, has endured her share of misery.
Thus, I do not fault her for her misguided attempt to bring delight to my dreary party. It started in late March. Laree went to an uptown meatery and bought an ample sack of hotdogs. Yeah, you heard me. Hotdogs! The butcher makes them on the premises and assured her they contain no chemicals, no fillers, and no scraps from the floor. The plump rascals are made from choice grass-fed beef... all-natural.
Well, life at the Draper household has not been the same since. We stay up past 10 PM, we watch R-rated TV with occasional cuss words (fingers in ears) and couples in the same bed (hands over eyes), we guzzle Gilligan’s near-beer and we eat guilt-free hotdogs, mustard, no bun. Joe, the butcher, also supplies us with high-protein chicken and turkey dogs blended with jack cheese. He calls ‘em Draper Dogs.
Joe’s a kidder... and, ummm, I lied about the near-beer.
Alas, I feel as if I’m failing or sinning or breaking a promise with my iron-true comrades or behaving contrary to the revered Bomber Code. Shame on me! In fact, let this statement serve as a confession. I confess! I’ve been eating fresh, organic, all-natural, chemical-free, grass-fed and range-roaming choice-parts hotdogs. Shoot me!
As long as I don’t get fat or heart burn, who cares? Let’s get on with more serious business, bombers, like getting huge and ripped.
I’ve been getting a lot of flak lately from lifters who think my workouts are shrimpy. I say to them, “Lighten up! Have a Draper Dog!” I also say they’re right, but it’s the very best I can do. After a while the old American muscle machine is meant to be polished, not raced. I do what I can to maintain a sheen, fight the rust, prevent mechanical breakdowns and keep the tires from going flat.
Here’s where a good pump is handy.
Ha, I jest. At 68 I’m exhaustively active in our research and development department devising intriguing ways to train for long life with remarkable muscle, strength and energy, while being kind to and considerate of the strained and bruised body. I am a very busy and hopeful person... desperate and neurotic.
Eventually every workout is a research and development project. After a certain age and enough years of iron-versus-the-body, you enter the gym like it’s a laboratory and you are the experiment. “Today, ladies and gentlemen, let us determine the forces we can apply without causing damage or malfunction.”
Earlier this month I briefly outlined three workouts that carried me through the week with jubilation and humble pride. I intuitively mingled a variety of standard muscle movements to energize and advance my bones. The workouts to the untrained eye appeared to be haphazard, disorganized, disjointed and insufficient.
Poop! The unadorned trio was and remains faultlessly balanced, designed by me and for me at the moment of my training. They pleased the Draper Dog. But are those same iron-conglomerations sensible for you? Good question. Hmmm. Answer: A rhetorical why not!
I suspect the younger generation -- the newer and less-scarred lifters -- hangs out at other sites where muscle and might are more technically and tightly wrapped, and rules and regs are dutifully emphasized. I agree, order is important and practice makes perfect and time is an invaluable investment.
However, after enough years, the road of travel broadens and boundaries widen and goals merge. Sets and reps and poundages become a blur, and exertion and focus and adaptation become the standard laws of engagement.
The body becomes supersensitive, the mind more aware, the spirit increasingly stimulated and the instincts deeply aroused and ready to lead. Stand back and get out of the way.
I crisscross the body from head to toe with a complementary arrangement of exercises we all know, love and hate, each with its own adaptation to suit our needs, desires and capabilities. The application of this loose training technique is not sloppy and hapless, nor a sneaky and sniveling copout. It’s necessity and authenticity hard at work.
Here are three more all-new, totally original, never-before-released snap workouts to carry us three workouts closer to next week. We’re in no rush, but we’re determined.
Precede each workout with fifteen vigorous minutes of rope-tucks and incline leg raises, hyperextensions and truck-pushes. Fortify your system with Bomber Blend before and after every workout (30 minutes) and at breakfast when perfect nutrition is craved.
Day 1) Chest, lats, shoulders, legs (tris, grip)
Close-grip bench press (slow, cool, smart, no-max reps) supersetted with bentover row (4 sets x 8 to 10 reps) -- 45- to 60-degree dumbbell incline press supersetted with straight-arm pullover (4 sets x 8 to 12 reps) – One-arm side-arm lateral raise (sets x 6 to 10 reps) -- Farmer walks, up stairs if possible (2 sets x 25 yards)
It’s not the workout, it’s the workman.
Day 2) Biceps, triceps, legs (grip, shoulders, back, chest)
Standing barbell curl (4 sets x 6 to 10 reps) supersetted with lying or overhead triceps extension (4 sets x 8 to 12 reps) -- Dumbbell alternate curl supersetted with machine dips (4 sets x 6 to 10 reps) -- Walking lunges with light dumbbells (4 sets x 6 to 12 reps)
Each exercise, set and rep is a research project.
Day 3) Shoulders, back, legs (bis and tris and grip)
Front press supersetted with wide-grip pulldowns (4 sets x 6 to 12 reps) -- Bentover lateral raise (4 sets x 6 to 12 reps) – Seated lat row (4 sets x 6 to 12 reps) -- Dumbbell squats and calf raises (4 sets x 6 to 12 reps)
We press on for the goal in our hand.
Did we miss something – cable crossovers, pushdowns, outer pecs? No matter, we’ll do it next time.
Beware B-50s and B-60s: Furious blasting sessions have been known to produce more than instant gratification, including rips, tears, strains, pains and no gains, and possibly worrisome, troublesome halts in the flow of training and growing and laughing and playing.
Do not withdraw from intensity, but do not wreak havoc. Be smart, engaged and attentive. Be nice to your trembling bod.
Rule of thumb: Blast according to the thickness of your skull.
On second thought, you might apply the pinky rule: Replace blast with snap, crackle and pop.
Go... Godspeed... Dave
PS: Laree's got a link in the newsletter to my friend, Dr. Nichols' site. Check it out here if you didn't see it earlier. Brilliant stuff.
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Did you know Bomber Blend will provide the least expensive and most nutritious meals in your daily eating regimen? It’s not an added extravagance to your food budget; it reduces your budget and improves your nutritional intake. It builds lean, strong and shapely muscle. Regular servings of Bomber Blend raise your IQ and enable you to time travel. Made into a poultice and smeared on the scalp will prevent baldness and kill tics. Good stuff.
Scoop the blend into a glass, stir and drink with pleasure and satisfaction, when you need to, want to or should. All the time.
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