Never Been Kissed

Friday night I was getting in my late-night workout at a midtown-ish location. The gym was sparsely occupied with maybe 10 guys in the whole (huge) facility. Nothing too distracting, just the regular crowd of meatheads with a few hard-working but sadly inefficient guys. As per my M.O. I got down to it and hit the weights hard.

While prepping for some dumbbell shoulder presses (my goal is to have the best shoulders of my life this summer) I notice a muscular, dark-haired, beefcake of a guy. He was taller than he needed to be but the sheer size of his frame and muscles made him seem nicely proportional. He actually looked like he could be a superhero. So I was sitting on the bench with the weights on my knees and I catch him looking at me in the mirror.

Hmm. What's he looking at? Is he looking at me because he wants the 55# dumbbells? Must be. I finish the set, put the weights away and head to the cable lat pull down to finish out the superset. When I come back for the next set of shoulder press the guy is sitting on my bench looking at himself in the mirror.

He looks fine, maybe I'd have confess and say that he looks good. "You need this?" he asks pointing down between his legs. Was he talking about the bench he was sitting on or was he talking about something else? Either way the answer might have been "Yes." but instead I declined and went to the bench next to him. We were now about 2 feet apart both sitting up facing the mirror. This location is huge and it seemed like we had the whole place to ourselves. He nodded at me in the mirror and I heaved the weights up to my shoulders.

Looking back on this it actually all happened really quickly. I just went on with my workout - it would take a lot to get me to slow down. I rarely ever talk at the gym while lifting.

For the next 20 minutes he played this little game with me involving angles of reflection in the mirror. Even though we weren't even near each other on the floor he was always in the mirror through a series of reflections. I would glance over at nothing and I'd see his eyes looking back at me. I felt like I was in some sort of funhouse with mirrors everywhere.

Maybe I was imagining all of this. This guy surely didn't look gay - whatever that means. He seemed way too cocky and jocky, the quintessential frat boy - and not in the abercrombie way - in the straight boy way. It's hard to explain but you'll know it when you see it. This guy most likely plays football in Central Park but doesn't care if his shorts look cute.

Alright, so his club has staircase that brings members downstairs to the weight floor that serves another purpose as a runway. If any of you are familiar with Therapy and its huge staircase - this gym feels the same way. Guys walk down the steps and instantly become the center of attention. So down walks this guy - he's young, cute, Italian, not too tall, and wearing a hat with his dark hair peeping out. Now this, this was a distraction.

In my most discreet, "I am just-doing bicep curls, don't mind me" way I followed him down the staircase. Suddenly there was a three way set of glances in play. The beefcake looked at me looking at the new guy and the new guy saw me looking at the beefcake looking at him. I pretend to be disinterested and within seconds the beefcake is walking toward this guy. Wow, he moves fast. They meet up right next to the leg press. The beefcake leans down and kisses the guy.

Whoa.

This wasn't a peck, this was a kiss. This was a kiss that had to feel good. It wasn't a make-you-wet-and-sloppy kiss - it was a nice full lipped, pause until you tingle kind of kiss. My mouth dropped open and I was mesmerized. This was seriously like the hot opening of some live action porn - right here in the gym.

I have never been kissed while in the middle of a workout at a gym. Granted, lots of kissing and debauchery has gone down while working out at home the state of the art facility I created in my old apartment - but you'd have to order the video to get the details.

So this public display of affection thing between guys seems to be sweeping NYC gyms. Twice now in as many weeks I have seen guys engaged in a nice little liplock on the gym floor.

I totally got caught looking by the beefcake - like I said, I was mesmerized by this and fascinated that this frat boy was so into the little hat-wearing cutie that he couldn't resist but to kiss him right then and there.

Both guys disappeared in no time, and I had since returned to focusing on what I was there to do. Eventually I made a pit stop to the lockerroom to take a swig of MuscleMilk and to go pee. I walked in there and wouldn't you know the cute kid was sitting on the bench right next to my locker, his frat boy boyfriend/hook up/sex slave was standing next to him in a towel. What the heck was going on here and is it worth sticking around for?

I opted to skip the locker stop altogether and head right into the restroom area - I already felt like I was invading their privacy. So I headed back to the floor - my mind wandering for a few fleeting moments. I kept imagining what was going on in the lockerroom. Then I started calculating the calories they could burn trough some good old fashioned hardcore lovemaking (at least 250 if they keep at it for 40 minutes). What a cool city that guys can feel so comfortable to show a little affection while burning a few calories.

Building Bulging Biceps

So I'm enjoying the streak of uncharacteristically beautiful weather here in New York sipping down a delicious homemade whey-protein packed smoothie and with every sip I take I feel a little something in my right bicep. It's that perfect tinge of tightness and soreness that follows a great bout of hitting the weights. I love that feeling.

So why did I hit the biceps so hard yesterday? I guess it had something to do with Saturday night. After a party uptown I headed down to Barracuda with a friend from school, we'll call her Takie, and her gay boyfriend from L.A., let's call him Sonander. It was the usual packed to the max (which I like) scene of regular chill guys peppered with more than a few twinky types and the occasional freak show or two.

Soon after we arrived, a rather plain looking blond guy decides to put the moves on a beefy Canadian standing near the three of us. The conversation between the two guys was hysterical because the Canadian clearly had no interest in blondie. After the Canadian brought up the War of 1812 as an example of moments when the Canadians (then British) kicked Americans ass by burning down Washington D.C., the blond guy left. So much for friendly US/Canada relations, eh?

With the new vacancy, Sonander got excited. He was really into this guy's arms. He had a sort of lumberjack build but really wasn't packing nicely defined arms in my opinion. He did make good wardrobe choices, his shirt sleeves extra snug and extra short. Regardless, my competitive side kicked in and I couldn't believe that Mr. Mapleleaf's undefined mass of thickness (um, his arms people - get your mind out of the gutter) was getting top billing in the nice arms department.

That led me to thinking about arms and the different things people want from their own arms and the arms of the people who will be hugging them at night. Therefore, today the focus is on biceps and somewhere down the road I'll get to triceps and forearms. Here goes.

First and foremost - technique matters. Poor form during bicep exercises is one of the most frequent things I see at the gym, in fact you're more likely to see a dude doing bad bicep curls than you are to see guys cruising. Too many guys stack on weight they can't control and end up using their lower back and shoulders to heave up weight. DO NOT sacrifice technique ever - but DO push yourself. Your bicep controls movement that brings your forearm toward your shoulder; so, unless you're doing compound exercises to target larger muscles in addition to your biceps, your elbow will be stationary because it serves as the grounding point for movement. The best illustration of this point is optimum performance on the preacher curl (pictured).

The bottom line: Your form matters much much more than your ego.

Second, isolation training is not the only answer for building bigger biceps. A lot of guys come from the school of thought that concentrated, bicep-isolating exercises are the best approach. While they do target the muscle - oftentimes compound exercises actually produce better results. A compound exercise is anything that includes an additional joint motion with that of a traditional curl, such as a close grip pull down (which works the lats and the biceps) or even a row (which works the rhomboids, mid-traps, rear delts, and biceps). The reason compound exercises work are because they cause your body to send out a distress signal that then allows for anabolic hormones such as testosterone and growth hormone to be called into action.

The bottom line: Combine isolation/concentrated bicep exercises with compound exercises.

Secondly, using supersets will also stimulate growth. A superset is just a combination of back-to-back exercises with no rest in between. You can do any method of supersets (same muscle group, opposing muscles, upper body/lower body, etc.) but the one I suggest for your biceps are same muscle group supersets. For example you will go from a standing barbell curl (12 reps) directly to dumbbell hammer curls (12 reps) without resting. Follow that up with 60 seconds of rest and increase the weight slightly and repeat this time with 10 reps, and the 3rd set with slightly heavier with 8 reps. The fourth and final set should be your starting weight and back to 12 reps. This alone should give you a good tingle. Mix in a compound set at the beginning and end of the superset and you have a kick ass bicep workout that will cause all tickets to your gun show to be sold out.

The bottom line: Supersets make you feel the burn.

Finally, as with any muscle development, what you eat matters. When you eat is just as important as what you eat. If you're looking for bigger biceps, you need to feed those puppies as soon as you walk about the gym door. Load up on lean protein or a nice whey protein smoothie. No muscle, and certainly no sexy arms, can be gained through the MaryKate and Ashley Diet so grab that chicken breast and start eating.

The Bigger Bulging Bicep Builder
Try this workout as part of your normal routine (1 time through) or as a stand alone bicep building session (2 - 3 times through).
1. close-grip pull up (with assisted pull up machine if needed) 6 - 8 reps
rest up to 1 minute
2. Superset: standing barbell curl 10-12 reps, dumbbell hammer curl 10-12 reps. Complete 3 supersets - rest 1 minute between each set.
3. Close-grip lat pull down (use this handle) 10-12 reps.
rest up to 1 minute
4. Concentrated (one arm at a time) cable bicep curl 10-12 reps.
repeat, rest, then eat

Welcome to the big Show(er)

Time got a way from me today and I found myself way downtown with no gym clothes at 8:22 p.m. All of the gyms close at 10 so I was feeling screwed. The MTA Gods were smiling tonight however because I managed to get home in time to grab my gear and head right back out to the nearest club. I got to the platform and the MTA Gods decided to frown and I waited, and waited, and waited. It was 9:15 before the train came to sweep me away so I got to the gym with only 37 minutes to get good and sweaty.

I scampered down the steps toward the locker room. It looked like a nuclear blast had blown every single towel into the air and they had landed all over the place. I've never seen a locker room this trashed in my entire life - and I have seen a lot of locker rooms. I tiptoed through the towels and found my little nook.

Now one thing is certain - I can get naked really fast. I had my belt off and pants undone before I set my bag down. I was out of my jeans and into my shorts within seconds. I strapped on my iPod and headed toward the bathroom area to go pee so it wouldn't dribble down my leg while I was running.

I turn the corner and see that the first shower was occupied - and that's never a good sign. That shower is placed in such a way that the person inside the shower can see into the locker area and every person who goes to use the series of sinks or the bathroom. It's the voyeurs shower and the gaping hole(s) in the curtain make that more than obvious. However, today's Showman was vying for another option. He had the curtain pushed at least six inches open.

Now I have no interest in seeing this production, but something about it made me glance. Maybe it's because I like live performance art and this guy was definitely performing. I didn't have time to really think about it at that moment.

I had a great intense 30 minute cardio set and got nice and sweaty running a hilly 5k. The gym staff already turned off the lights in the club and were yelling at the 10 or so people finishing up. I headed back down to get my bag and noticed that the peeping tom shower is still running. This guy was still at it! After I walked by the opening toward the shower room (the voyeurs field of view) the water turned off and I swear to you it sounded as if somebody was smacking their hand against a wet back over and over again. Take a moment to imagine that, and then let your imagination run a little . . . yeah - this guy was having a good time and wanted people to know.

By this point I had to investigate. I mean come on now - the gym is closed and we have a naked man in the shower. I went back into the bathroom area and got more than a glimpse of our wet star.

So most people would assume this type of guy would be of a certain pedigree. People would guess he'd be an unattractive, awkward, gangly cretin. This was not the case. Would you believe that this character was an early 20s, decent looking, well built guy? He was. How crazy is that? This guy had no shame. On my return trip from the urinal he was waiting in the shower stall with his towel over his shoulder (um, not around his waist). We made eye contact and he cocked his head back in a way that suggested, "hey, come here." This was supposed to be hot like in the movies, but it wasn't. It was creepy.

Well there you have it - on any given night, like I said before, there's something going down in the locker room. But the part of this story that amazes me is that from the outside this was a guy that most guys (and girls) would want to date. I wondered about what this guy does for work and if his coworkers suspect his a hardcore exhibitionist. I also wondered when he planned on getting his naked wet ass out of the gym since it had closed before even I left.

Maybe he had a bad day and just wanted some companionship, but all I know is that once I left he had two choices for an audience: a wrinkled raisin of a man, or what appeared to be an overweight rabbi. I have a funny feeling that he was going to keep on trying to show people what he was "up" to, regardless of who those people were. He had already been in the shower for at least 35/40 minutes and wasn't phased by the many guys walking by and glancing nonchalantly his way. Nobody said a word about it and even the ultra macho latino folk who love to toss around heavy weights in the weight room just walked on by while he was going to town.

A lot of people are going to tell me, "that doesn't happen at my gym," and to them I say, "bull crap." For some reason when you put a shower in a room with a bunch of guys, at some point somebody is going to feel the urge to put on a show. I wonder how this particular one ended? The scenario I envisioned as I was walking home and laughing about the night was one that involved the gym's housekeeping guy coming into the locker room to pick up all the towels that were freakin' everywhere when he sees our little, errr not little, showman.

And the rest . . . well you can finish that on your own.

The Italian

Today I did a free introductory session with an Italian guy. By Italian guy, I don't mean Italian-looking or Italian ancestry, I mean Italian as in he just moved to New York from Northern Italy. My own ancestry traces back to Italy so I have a weak spot for my ancient brethren. From the neck up, this recent migrant did not disappoint, he had dark hair, dark eyes, good teeth and a nice light perma-tan. Below the neck it was a different story, this guy was a fixer-upper.

For the record, the guy pictured on the right is pretty much perfect pedigree Northern Italian and he's included here in this post just because I think it's important with a fitness themed blog to keep your mind focused on the prize you win when you work out intelligently and diligently - and that prize is a smokin' hot bod like that.

Back to the story . . . Something about The Italian's accent made the session more fun than usual for me. Couple that with the fact that he hasn't worked out in 6 months and you have an hour or so of making him feel muscles he's not felt in a long, long time. Those are the types of sessions that are really fun for me because it feels more like teaching than anything else and when you just meet somebody they're pretty open to trying anything and everything.

Things were going along great, I got a pretty good assessment on him, his abs were burning, his arms were a little shaky, and I gave him a nice good stretch at the end. It was a storybook session and I was stoked - 3 of my main clients are out of the country and I needed to generate some new biz. In perfect scenario form, as we fished up he started talking about "our next session."

In order to have a next session however he has to buy a package. That's the part of the free session I hate the most - I mean yeah, training seems expensive but the value is pretty hard to beat. I pretty much never talk about selling anything because I find it annoying and offensive. If they want it (and after trying me out they usually want it) then they'll come to that part on their own.

My Italian buddy was talking about what days would be best for him to train and I just kept listening, waiting for the right moment to talk about session packages. Eventually, I just come out and ask him if there is a big event (other than just bathing suit season) for which he wanted to get into top shape. Yeah, there was. He wants to get ready for his trip back home to Italy to see his girlfriend. Alright, that's perfect. With 20 sessions he'd be well on his way. I slipped out the pricing sheet and he looked at me as if I had 3 heads or that he had to poop really badly. "What's zis? I thou a trainer is included with gym." At that very moment I knew it wasn't going to go my way. Regardless of how badly he wants and needs a trainer, he was seriously blown away by the fact that you pay for a gym and you pay for a trainer. That led to a discussion about New York City's prices, Starbucks, and George Bush. So there it was, a good 90 minutes down the toilet -- and I made zero dollars today.

This Lock is Your Lock, This Lock is My Lock

After having 5 back to back clients tonight I headed up for my own workout at a different location. Nothing out of the ordinary - that's how my Wednesdays always go. I've been stuck on this new location for a few weeks now and the whole experience is pretty surreal. The gym is never crowded, the locker room is nearly always empty, and since there is no steam room, and no showers facing each other there is little or no cruising going down.

It's the sort of place a lot of people imagine gyms to be like but it's the sort of place that I have found to be a complete an utter anomaly. Couple that with it's location (in the heart of gay mecca blocks away from the birthplace of the gay movement) and it's baffling . I guess if you take away the chance to see some hot guy getting soapy or steamy most guys won't come.

So tonight I expected the same thing. I thought for sure I would see some of the regulars, including the kid who is obsessed with his love handles but I was wrong. It was a pretty new batch of folks. There was one guy who was moderately distracting. He wasn't distracting in the "my ipod has to be loud enough that everybody can hear it over their own ipod" or the more popular "I have to throw these weights down and watch them bounce into your space because I'm an asshole and have a small penis and need to overcompensate by lifting weight I can't control" way. Instead, he was distracting in a good, motivating way. I found the need to study his arms and the perfect vein running up and over his bicep to the pure white v-neck shirt that was pulledtaut across his chest.

I'm sure you want the story to turn out involving some hot times on the weight bench but after my first 3 sets of shoulder press I forgot about this guy - I was on a mission and the workout was in high gear.

It was one of those extra euphoric times at the gym. About a quarter of the way through I was pumping away and my heart was beating itself silly. By the end I was nice and sweaty through and through. Nothing beats these moments after a workout, your abs still burning, walking a little funny and everything a little pumped up.

I sauntered into the ghost town of the lockerroom all Western style, my Nike Shox serving as my hi-tech cowboy boots. I went to my locker and tried opening my lock. One try, no luck. Hmm, maybe I'm going in the wrong direction, a second try, no luck, a third, fourth - I forgot my combination?

I looked to my left and realized that I was trying the wrong locker. As I moved to the locker next to the one it seemed I was trying to break into I noticed a pair of sneakers that weren't my own down by my feet. I turned to the right and a guy quietly said, "excuse me," as he started to open the lock that had my fingerprints all over it.

Crap.

I didn't hear this guy come up behind me. Did he see me trying to open his lock? Did he think I was trying to steal his jeans? He didn't say a word about it. In this whole entire huge empty lockerroom he and I had to occupy the same tiny corner sharing the same awkward silence.

The silence was killing me. In any other club there would be some conversation going on, a shower running, steam room a steamin' away - but here I was - presumed guilty of breaking and entering by this guy who was clearly too shy to do anything about it. I wanted to laugh it off and say something like, "geez all these locks look the same" but figured that since my lock had a black face and his had a blue face - he would probably see that as a cover up for my fantastic scheme to break into his locker. In my defense, my lock prior to this one did have a blue face.

So I head to the shower, he's still at the locker. During the whole time that I got naked and toweled, he hadn't even removed a sneaker. He just rummaged through his things. I'm telling you it was an awkward moment all around.

I'm getting nice and wet in the shower when the shower curtain right next to me opens, the water turns on. What the hell is going on here? There are at least 7 showers in a row and he picks the one right next to me?

Was this flirting? Did he take my attempt to break into his locker as an attempt to break into his heart?

Back at my locker I dried off quickly. I moved my crap out of his way and pulled on my jeans pretending not to notice him. I got dressed quickly in awkward silence. The entire time he was still standing at his locker in his towel just digging around in his bag. I headed away from my locker, and as I am about to turn the corner, the same voice I heard before says "Hey . . ."
I cringe slightly and turn my head.
"you forgot your lock."

Textin' the Trainer, Vol. 1

As you could probably assume, and as GQ so deftly remarked recently, the client-trainer relationship can get pretty intimate. At times it is pretty intense, and, when things are really going well the client feels obligated and committed to their trainer. After a while if the client isn't keeping up their end of the rigorous, but oh-so-fun deal, guilt sets in. Trainers get paid to check up on their clients, and over time clients are trained to simply divulge all their indiscretions. Sometimes, clients divulge a lot more . . .

Here's a text from a long-term client: "I had a skinny latte. Is that ok?"
Anybody know the answer? It's a toss-up, sure coffee isn't the best thing for the fitness minded chap, but some would argue the resultant caloric burn from the caffeine outweighs its negative impact (that's debatable but since I nearly own stock in Starbucks I say - drink up). A good rule to follow however is to never drink your calories, it's just way too easy to rack up some damage - and yes, even a skinny latte has some calories, a grande packs in about 130. Not sooo bad, but still - if your goal is say . . . a nude beach, choose straight up raw coffee.

This is the kind of text I love getting: "Shoulders and chest sore. Opening doors and pushing boxes are a small problem. Feels good though."

Now these texts all come from a recent client, who, consequently had no desire to get a trainer. As you read you'll see he's got other motives.

• "If u get me to focus in my breath and not in ur sexy shorts at the end of the "package" ... maybe I'll pay u a cab . . . or a dinner ;-)"

• "Lets say my xgirlfriend is a trainer either so if i only wanted to learn new exercises she could send me an email with a whole new workout . . . for free"

To which I responded by asking, "then why are you spending all this money?"

"2 have u wearing ur sexy shorts around me 4 one hour a week . . "

• "u punish me with those workouts, u get me horny . . . WHERE'S MY HAPPY ENDING! cant deal with it anymore"

Keeping It Up on the Road

I spent most of last week in a mediocre hotel outside of Dayton, OH. I'm what most people would consider a disciplined guy when it comes to working out so when I'm not able to hit up my normal selection of gyms in the city I panic a little. I didn't choose the hotel because if I did I would have checked in advance for a good fitness set up or gym access or something.

Like most hotels these days this place had a tiny room with a recumbent bike, and a flimsy treadmill. I looked in the corner however and there it was - a Bowflex. I think I started to drool a little upon seeing the Bowflex - my mind wandering to those images of the guy in short red shorts that used to come on late night TV for the infomercial.

I was pretty certain this little gadget would serve my needs and keep me feeling nice and on schedule with working out. After using it - I'm not sure I'd buy one. There were way too many things to switch and adjust in order to move on to a different exercise - it made any semblance of a circuit nearly impossible. Clasp this, run this cable through this wheel, move the seat, switch the bows, repeat on the other side. On a positive note this thing is constantly training you for greater stability so you're getting more bang for your buck with each set.

Still, all I need is a flat bench with a bar, plates, and a good set of dumbbells. That's what I grew up on and I still swear by it.

So I managed to get some good running in on the treadmill but I had to turn my music up so loud in order to drown out the creaking of the machine. I go two great workouts in with the Bowflex but the constant rubbing of cables on my arms from the chest press really tore up my forearms.

The bottom line is that even without this too-fancy-for-its-own-good gadget, you can, and certainly need to find ways to keep on sweating while you're traveling. Come on you know that flight attendants and other recurrent hotel dwellers have perfected this - a good cardio romp in the sack never hurt anybody - just keep it up for at least a good 30 minutes - and heck - do it standing for even greater caloric burn.

Another thing I noticed from traveling recently is that in some places (suburbia, and rural areas) it is nearly impossible to make good selections for eating unless you have access to a kitchen, and the time to prepare it - so staying in a hotel in Suburbia is like swimming in partially hydrogenated oil just for fun. At least in New York you can get some organic turkey breast on a whole grain pita 24 hours a day.

Your Butt: An Owner's Guide

I'm willing to wager that you're sitting on your butt right now. An average of 27% of Americans get no physical activity outside of walking to and from cars or to the fridge for some chicken wings and a beer.

Granted, my fellow New Yorkers are more likely to be walking further differences and up more flights of stairs, but still, we sit on our asses like we're hens in a pen waiting for our eggs to hatch. For all of you who work in offices, your occupational hazard is the chair and it's putting you at the greatest risk for a butt crisis.

If that doesn't compel you to get up and move around (after you finish reading the blog) then maybe the explanation I give to my clients will inspire you.

Here's the deal, your largest butt muscle (the Gluteus Maximus (G-Max) extends your hip joint. Sitting flexes your hip joint. So with every second that you sit, your major butt muscle is getting stretched and stretched.

Sigh.

I like clients to imagine a piece of elastic. That elastic is like your ass. The constant stretching eventually causes it to lose its ability to return to its original shape. At this point, clients typically have a look of horror on their faces, their hands slowly moving to squeeze their once taut, early 20s, perky ass that has now become soft and droopy. And while we're at it, a nice ass isn't just for women. Guys are always asking me for tips with their ass.

Alright that's one reason you may be the victim of a butt crisis. But there is more bad news. The muscle that helps to give your butt that nice sculpted look is the Gluteus Medius (G-Med) which is responsible for hip abduction (moving your leg away from your body laterally). The most prolific vision of hip abduction is none other than Miss Jane Fonda. Unfortunately, we are always moving forward. The G-Med is one of the most ignored muscles on our body, and it is an important one for keeping your legs in optimum alignment as well as for the obvious cosmetic benefits that come from a firm tush.

By this point you should be sufficiently concerned about your derriere's appearance. The other things to consider are the real responsibilities of that huge-ass (pun intended) muscle group. A strong g-max is pretty much mandatory when it comes to reducing lower back pain. A weakened G-Max causes a tilt in your pelvis that might look like an overly arched lower back. It may look good when you're dancing in a Beyoncé video but the bottom line is that eventually your back is going to hurt and soon you won't be able to straighten out your posture. Couple that with osteoporosis in a few years and you're as good as immobile. Forever.

Ok, ok, I overstated the case - but only a little.

All this hysteria about the great hind-end crisis, what are we to do? How about an Ass-Kickin' Workout or two? Try 3 of my favorite butt exercises below, or if you're ass is more likely to win a SAG award than Helen Mirren or Jennifer Hudson then check email me at DashboardG2 at mac.com for a complete Butt Blaster, Tush Toner, Hiney Helper workout I designed for beginners and/or one for the more advanced.

Stability and Endurance: The Bridge
Bridging begins on your back, your arms at your sides, ankles directly under the knees.
As you exhale you will engage your glutes (and of course draw in your abdomen) while you lift your pelvis toward the ceiling.
You are aiming to create a straight line from your knees to your shoulders, keeping your glutes activated the entire time. Hold this position for 30-60 seconds, rest for a moment, and repeat at least 6 times.
Advance the bridge by trying it with one leg at a time.
Keeping your pelvis level as it rises, straighten one leg while keeping your knees in line with each other.
Further advance the bridge by incorporating a stability ball.
Place your heels at the crest of the ball and press your pelvis upward.
This too can be done with one leg at a time. The opportunities are limitless I tell ya!

Strength and Stability: Ball Hamstring Curl (slightly advanced)
Assume the bridge position using a stability ball by placing your heels at the crest of the ball and pressing your pelvis toward the ceiling.
Exhale while activating your glutes, pressing your pelvis upward and pulling the ball toward your body. You must aim to keep a straight line (the entire time) between your knees and your shoulders. The final destination is pictured.
Slowly return the ball to the starting position, repeat 6-12 times.

Shaping and Toning: Lateral band Walking *
You want to get your hands on small power bands or track them down at your gym. If they don't have any - demand that they get some. There are various degrees of resistance, but each one serves some purpose.
The band will go around your ankles for this exercise.
You will stand up straight, exhale as you move your leg away from the other leg and step to the side. Keep your tush tucked in naturally as you do this.
Try moving 4 steps to the right and then 4 steps to the right. Repeat until you have moved 24 steps.
Try both keeping your knee extended and also with your legs in a slightly bent position.
For an added total-body bonus, toss in some lightweight dumbbell shoulder presses as you step.
After each set of 24 steps, rest for 30 seconds. Repeat 3-5 times. Your butt will be burning.

*If you don't have any bands, you can still do this same thing with ankle weights, or laying on your side and lifting your leg up away from the other (see Jane Fonda above). Keep your foot flexed and your knee extended. Complete the full range of motion, do this 25 times, roll over and repeat. Rest, and do it all again.

At the very least - incorporate bridging into your workout. That, or just get up and walk. Whenever you are moving your legs your butt is what pulls your leg under your pelvis, so squeeze your ass when you walk sometimes as if you're minting a coin - do it at least a few minutes a day and you'll see some differences in no time - or you'll have minted enough money to buy yourself a pair of pants in a larger size - eeek! Even worse - you may have to buy one of these to distract from your jiggly-ness.

So you have finished reading the post, now you can read some other entries, leave a comment, or shoot me an email - but within the next 3 minutes you better be off your duff and movin' that booty.

Livin' Libido Lockerroom!

No matter the moon phase, weather, or time of day, there's always something (or, I guess, someone) going down in the locker room. With the exception of one gym location that I recently discovered, every other visit to the gym(s) either for work or for working out includes seeing a hook-up in the making. These sightings typically involve one or more of the following techniques:

• stares that last a little, or a lot, too long
• the more crafty "I'm going to look in the mirror but actually check you out instead" maneuver
• explicit gestures (e.g., grabbing oneself, pointing at one's "goods", or even bumping into somebody else's "goods")
• towels that somehow fail to cover appropriately, or fail altogether and fall to the floor
• outright explicit verbal invites to conserve water
• slightly opened shower curtains; or, the more ambitious and becoming more popular, the fully opened shower curtain technique
• silent advances that aren't rejected, also known as "the code"

I have seen all of these in play - and some with successful results. To be clear, I have not acted on any of these - ever. Other than looking at someone every once in a while who is cute, hot, muscular, tan, dark-haired - I just wrap the towel around and do my thing. I do like to watch the drama unfold in the locker room and I'm often astonished at who participates in the games. There are actually some pretty good lookin' guys who do some pretty outrageous things.

I was in the steamroom (being innocent, virginal, and pure as always) when this guy comes in and sits a little too close to me. Generally speaking, I like to keep wet, naked strangers at least least 18 inches away. Alright, so maybe it does depend on the stranger. Anyway, this guy is sitting there for no less than one minute when I start to feel his stare in my direction. I didn't need to turn my head to feel the brightness of his round face pointing in my direction. It seemed as if Medusa was staring right at me -- I was frozen still. With just my little towel wrapped snugly around me, I closed my eyes.

I heard the door open but pretended not to notice. I decided I should remain perfectly still, that's what I learned in Cub Scouts for avoiding bear attacks and by the looks of who entered the steam room, this strategy was was the appropriate one. He was unquestionably a Bear. I thought the entrance of a third person would quell my wet, naked, creepy neighbor's staredown. I was right, he was no longer looking at me, his gaze shifted immediately to Mr. Bear and this Bear wanted his honey. The furry one made eye contact with my neighbor, knelt on the tiled step in front of him, moved his towel (which I presume was now a tent), and, well . . . you can imagine the rest.

I have to keep on imagining the rest right along with you -- I didn't stay for the show.

I always get different reactions from people when I tell them I didn't stay. Some think I should have, some wish I would have, others think I shouldn't have gone in there in the first place. All I know is that I was amazed at how fast it all went down. There were no words exchanged, no names, no handshake - just quick action. This was a busy time of day at the gym, the locker room was full, other guys surely walked in after I left. For all I know, and I do suspect, that steam room got a whole lot steamier after my departure.

A lot of guys I talk to aren't surprised by any of this, and honestly I'm not surprised anymore either. Here is a sampling of actual Craigslist postings from the past few days. See what you're missing by not going to the gym?

Posting 1: So close, but no -- ummm . . cigar?

To the guy who invited me into the shower at NYSC:
All the showers were in use, I was waiting behind you. When a stall became available you asked if I wanted to share with you. I was tempted but then another became available and I took it. I regret it now. Let's meet up there again and try for a happier ending! Tell me which location it was so I know it's you.

Posting 2: The Steamroom Cinderella Story. This guy left his kiss on somebody and wants to find it again, and again.

Were you in the steamroom today at an NYSC? Were you the guy I kissed? If so I want to kiss you over and over -- you are one hot guy. Drop me a line with location and time to prove it's you and we'll take it from there.

Posting 3: Three's Company. But this company went out of business.

You were the total hottie that was in the steam room at around 8:40 or so. Originally there were 4 of us in there, but then the other 2 left and that is when we started to play. Unfortunately we were interrupted when another guy walked in and we never could get things started again. You were simply beautiful and I would love to do it again! What other days do you work out there? Describe me and yourself so I know it is you!

Posting 4: Sadly I call this the "All Too Common." It's the standard gym hook-up post -- but this one is exceptionally sketchy so I deleted some words (you'll figure it out). If you're offended by fingers that wander -- don't read it.

attractive horny guy here, thick ____, nice face, 5'11, 150#, tattoos, dark hair, love _____ with a guy and even getting a finger up my _____. _____ off across the shower hallway with a hot dude at w80 last sunday, looking for the same scene.

Common Myths #2

So I have been hearing from quite a few people recently about their experiences or, more frequently, their lack of experiences at the gym. From what I can tell there is a lot of gym-phobia out there. Some of this has to do with a myth, or series of myths actually, about what actually goes on at a gym.

Myth #2: Only hot guys and gals work out at the gym, and if you don't know what you're doing - people will laugh at you.

Hmmm. This was an actual line from an IM conversation that I had the other day. At first, I thought it was some of the ever-so-common IM banter, but after a little digging I realized that this person actually believed it. He said he went to the gym one time but got so intimidated that he did go back for 3 months. His 90 bucks a month just goes wasted unless he goes really late at night and heads straight to the treadmill - something he says he does only once a month.

That's sad.

But I can relate. Gyms are intimidating places. I had always worked out at home with a great set-up that included a flat bench, dumbbells, a pull up bar, lots of mirrors on the wall, and one medicine ball (that I hardly knew how to use). Moving from my expansive place in Buffalo to the Metropolis meant leaving it all in storage. I was fit, and I pretty much thought I knew what I was doing. However, the prospect of actually going to a "Health Club" freaked me out big time.

So -- I joined a 24 hour gym. I went around 2 a.m. just to avoid seeing other people. Nobody works out at 2 a.m. right?

Wrong!

There I was, in the lockerroom frozen still because I heard a shower turning off. All those issues with the middle school post-swim class locker room situations came rushing back. You know the ones, that kid is "becoming a man," but I am still just a boy.

Where do I look? What do I do? Is somebody going to run over here and snap my ass with a wet, wound-up towel?

I had imagined that a huge muscular Adonis reminiscent of the High School football captain would saunter around the corner. I focused intently on my lock, pretending it had changed it's own combination without warning.

From the corner of my eye I see a foot. In this whole great big lockerroom this towel-clad guy ends up next to me?! Like I said before, locker selection is always a gamble.

My heart was racing. He was so close I could feel the steam coming off his body. My neck hurt I was looking down so hard.

I wanted to run away screaming.

What was the big deal? I can't really say - but I will say I was wholly intimidated and I hadn't even set foot in the weight room yet. At that instant, I felt like I had no business being there.

Needing an escape, I worked up an urge to pee. Not there of course (get your mind out of the fetish gutter it was just in)! That's when I saw him - the most plain looking, soft-edged guy.

Phew. No Adonis was going to judge me today.

I did feel like everybody else there knew what they were doing. I had only ever used the basic equipment. I always pretended to be stretching near a machine while I discreetly read how to use it. I managed to navigate my way into some great workouts but it wasn't easy at first.

My confidence grew and I started testing myself. I decided to go at 6 p.m. when I figured it would be busiest. I was right. It sucked. People everywhere were fighting over machines and weights and treadmills. However, it was that crash course that made me see that there were people of all shapes and sizes - all with their own motives (some of them questionable of course) and all with a clear variety of knowledge. I started trying out other clubs as a game with myself purposely trying to get over the fear of the unknown.

Fast forward a bit of time -- now I work for the club. Life is funny that way.

But the moral of this wandering story is that the gyms certainly are not filled with hot people and they are certainly not filled with people who know what they are doing. Every day I'm there, I see people do some crazy things and unless it's dangerous I just look on in amazement. So, I say go on with your wild self and jump right in - there's no reason to wait.

Handling Love . . . Handles

Alright, so there is a guy I often see at the gym (one where I workout, not the one where I work) and he is constantly grabbing his lower back. He's not grabbing in a way that suggests "oh wow, my lower back really hurts," instead, he's grabbing in a way that suggests he hates his body. He winces and frowns and runs with his hands on his lower back as if he's trying to hide them from everybody in the gym.

For some reason this really bothers me.

I see this kid at the gym almost every single night and I each time I see him looking at himself in the mirror grabbing at his "love handles." He seems frustrated and obsessed with it. Here is what I can ascertain from a distance:

• he wants to lose body fat
• he works out at least five times a week
• he does at least 30 minutes of cardio on 3 of those days
• he incorporates resistance training
• he's gay (it's relevant because it likely causes unrealistic expectations about his body)

So from my limited data, he's doing a good job at his own battle - he is highly motivated and has a goal in mind, things trainers love to see in their own clients. However, he could switch up a couple of things in order to get better and faster results:

First, we must admit that there are some things about our bodies that we can't change. We're given a frame and there is nothing you can do at the gym to change it. You can however, make the most of what you're given. Obsessing about it actually makes it nearly impossible to change it. Even when this kid has zero fat, he is still going to think and believe he has those pesky love handles, which consequently on him are not that bad at all.

Second, cardio is key to losing fat but more effective when accompanied with some resistance training on different days. The weekly general rule for working up a sweat is 3 days to feel good, 5 days to look good. However, cardio doesn't just mean jumping on the treadmill or elliptical for 30 minutes. To fight some wicked fat and to kick your cardio ass try doing radical intervals that alternate between 70 and 85% of your maximum heart rate (If you want help figuring this out, let me know). I suggest 2 minutes at the low end followed by 1 minute at the high end. Same rule applies if you're on the rower (which I prefer over the others), or the ultimate cardio experience -- the VersaClimber.

Third, this kid does "work out" with weights. That's good because we all know that the more muscle you have - the more calories you burn during rest. But since he clearly wants to lose some extra weight he should be engaged in a nice little circuit jumping from set to set with no rest. So instead of spending 20 minutes doing a few sets of dramatic bench presses and dumbbell flys he would be better served going from a press to a row to a fly to a reverse fly to a pull down to a shoulder press several times at a medium weight followed by a similar circuit for the lower body and abs. After a few weeks of doing this three times a week - he'll be happy.

So I see this kid pretty much every night but have never talked to him. I feel funny just going up to people at the gym. No matter how sly it would seem like a pick up and that's not my intent. Last night he was there with two other guys (which really slowed down his already slow workout). One guy left and gave him a kiss before doing so . . . only in New York will you see two guys kissing on the floor of a gym. Ok, ok so this gym is in the Village so I guess it's safe to say it's to be expected.

Your Chest and Hips just want to be Free

Alright friends, so I have to devote at least some space to actual fitness knowledge. For today I'll hold back on the many sordid tales of lockerroom debauchery and blurry boundaries of the personal trainer realm.

Today's focus is on the part of the body most mentioned when I first meet somebody interested in training: their midsection. Abs, tummy, belly - you know the place. It's the single most featured part of the body on the faceless profile pics that closeted guys use online and it's the site on most people's body where so much war is waged on fat that it makes the actual Battle of the Bulge seem minor in comparison.

There is a lot to say about this part of the body but today's focus is on that region's ability to move. Your chest and hips are not one unit, they are independent chunks of your body - but so much we do limits our flexibility between the two. Most people are just huge stiffies - what I am asking you to do is to increase the range of motion that your chest has, independent of your hips. The primary muscles involved are your Transverse Abdominus for stability and your Internal and External Obliques for movement and strength.

Before even thinking about this concept you should have mastered the "drawing in" maneuver. You'll need to be able to engage your Transverse Abdominus, an ultra thin but wide belt-like muscle that basically holds in your guts. It's the deepest layer of the "core" muscle group and it's responsible for providing the stability and erect humanoid posture we've been into since we tossed off the whole ape scene eons ago.

Let's try something. Sit up nice and tall in your chair, feet flat on the floor shoulder width apart. Exhale a nice long breath and pull that belly button back toward your spine and press your lower back closer to the back of the chair. Now do it again, but this time -- don't let your chest move down, keep your shoulders and chest nice and tall - you should feel like your abs are stretching long while tightening closer. Ideally you'll also feel a slight pull on your pelvis. Hold this position for the entire time you exhale, then relax just that midsection while you inhale. Do this for a minute or so. Come on - nobody will know you're doing it - it's ok to have good posture.

Alright. So keeping that in mind - I want you to lift your arms up as if you were hugging somebody. Clasp your hands together. Check to see that your shoulders are not rising. Now inhale and twist to the right, keeping your hips squared front and your feet on the floor. Exhale and twist back to the front, pulling your belly button back like we did a minute ago. Repeat on the left.

This is an important stretch and core development exercise. Once you have done it seated, you can do it on the ground but this time keeping your shoulder/chest complex stationary while you move your hips from side to side, commonly known as the Hip Crossover.

This is a "pre-hab" exercise that serves as a good warmup for some hardcore ab exercises. As we get older we get stiffer - and your ability to move your chest independent of your hips allows you greater performance, reduces lower back pain, and allows you to work those sexy oblique muscles that run diagonally across your midsection.

For any advanced readers, I suggest the side plank twist to achieve these same results - increased stability of the pillar and increased strength and movement in the obliques. The picture of the guy in red shorts should help you - I happen to think it's a really good image - one that keeps me very interested in the exercise. Good luck.

Up Close and Personal

Last night I was working with a client and I started thinking about how close the trainer/client relationship really gets. I've been working with "Zach" for about 6 months now, usually twice a week and I have to say - the job requires me to get pretty close. It's nearly a requirement for trainers to touch their clients. That's an interesting road to go down, especially in the early stages of the relationship.

The position during which I find myself always having to touch my clients is the bridge position (pictured). Nearly every session I have done involves me placing my hand under the small of their back and gently pushing upward. This isn't a problem with the women normally, but with the guys it can get a little weird.

I am always a little bit afraid that some guys will get freaked out with another guy touching the small of his back - with the close proximity to the "glutes" and all. But even further, this position usually involves me on my knee or knees and really close to the guy's crotch. Sure this could be like some great porn but I'm actually trying to get the guy to extend his hips and tighten his ass. Nothing is worse than a saggy backside.

With Zach the touching came pretty naturally - he didn't seem to mind. Since he was one of my first hardcore, dedicated, regular clients I followed the standard protocol, asking if I could touch here and there. Now we're to the point where I just do what I have to do to get him into the position he needs to be in.

Last night, we were in the middle of a very intense workout that pushed him to his limits and I found myself touching his sweaty back, pushing gently between his shoulder blades. He gets up from the t-bar row machine and ends up on the mat where I am putting my fingers around his belly button to see if he's "drawing-in" appropriately. I feel like I touch this guy everywhere all of the time and it's this vulnerability on his part that makes him such a good client and why he's progressing so well. He has no issues other than he wants a good workout and I have no agenda in touching him other than to give him the optimum workout.
I like it that way.

Contrast this with "Matt" with whom I spent the entire hour of his free introductory session looking at his muscles. Although he was highly experienced and needed very little assistance from me I found the need to readjust him more than most people. He was the eager type of gym boy who was oblivious to the cuteness he was oozing through his sweaty performance during squats on the Bosu ball. "Reach back with your butt," I would say. He'd do it without question or hesitation. Hours like that make my job oh so enjoyable.

Showers Make You Clean - They Can't be Dirty

Taking a shower is the dessert if your work out is the main course. It can make or break a perfectly good bout of exercise because you're usually in it while you're still in that blissful state of: worked so hard my body begged me to stop mode. Granted, my SGF (straight girlfriend) refuses to take a shower after she works out because she likes to play this whole "I'm an innocent Southern girl, chaste and pure" act (we'll get to that in a later post). However, for the purposes of this entry, let's assume you're like me and you enjoy the sweet pleasure of hot water gently caressing your supple skin.

Ok so at the gym this "event" takes place in a semi-public way. I think it is interesting to see how guys navigate this area.
On a normal day, you have a handful of guys all in various stages of undress, towels strewn about, a mysterious funk in the air, and the humidity level of Florida after an August rain. There is hissing from the steamroom and sound of the shower water hitting the floor.

No matter what there will be a locker lizard, towel troll, whatever you want to call him - he's only there to hang out in the lockerroom and follow guys to the shower. Yes, this happens on a daily basis at pretty much every gym in the city. It's usually an overly tan chubby guy who has no shame about looking down at your crotch.

You go into the shower, thankfully there are stalls at the club and not a gang shower like in high school (sigh . . . I wish I went to school with Mario Lopez) and there really isn't anything out of the ordinary.

The one thing you will notice after you turn around to get your back wet is that there are several holes that were torn into the curtain. It is clearly obvious by the ever so conspicuous eye-level location they were made to be "peepholes" for some curious chap who wants to see some man-goods.

Now I refuse to believe that my fellow gays are out here ripping tiny holes into the curtains of shower stalls - it's easy enough to get some good old fashion gay lovin' in New York City.

So who are these voyeuristic bandits?

Choice A: It's the married guys.
It has to be the married guys who are so insecure about their own inabilities to satisfy a woman with their meager goods. They're dying to see the competition, they're born and bred on the American ideal that bigger is better - and that investigative pursuit been happening at the urinals since Kindergarten.

Choice B: It's the "straight" guys.
Any perusal of craiglists will provide you with more than a few postings from "straight" guys who want to check out another guy while he showers.
It's not really a noteworthy day when you walk past the showers to see guys poking their heads out . . . both of them.

Choice C: It's the "not-so-hot" gay boys.
This is probably sad but true. We're a nasty bunch and let's face it - seeing naked wet guys never gets boring. If you're not getting it every morning when you watch your boyfriend (or boyfriend for a night) shower - you have to be resourceful. If nothing else, the gays are a resourceful bunch.

Nonetheless, there are peepholes in every single shower curtain, and you don't even have to pay a quarter.

Common Myths, #1

Myth 1: There are no White trainers at New York Sports Clubs (NYSC).

So, an angry White lady posted something tacky about the trainers at NYSC on Craigslist, asking whether or not there were any "caucasian" trainers at the club. I often wondered the same thing, just not in that same annoying way.
When I moved to New York and joined the gym I saw no White trainers.
When I got hired, there I was -- the token White guy. I made the manager promise to keep me as the sole paleface - for the simple reason that it makes me memorable and easy to spot from across the gym. Since then, he hired two White girls and an old White man.
Granted, the two girls are gone now and the older guy looks like Bush - but for a while there the Whities were shaking up the industry norm.

Warming Up

For me, it all starts with picking the right locker. On a typical day I walk into the lockerroom and look for a little nook to spread out my things and get down to my naked self. I like to have some privacy, but not so much privacy that guys may suspect I'm hiding something - or a lack of something.

I do take time to plan out what underwear to wear to the gym. This is a critical decision, yet one that a lot of guys I've seen at the gym lately have not taken the time to consider. On a typical day I see way more Hanes and Fruit of the Loom than I want to. I am a tighty-whitie fan for sure, but there are enough better versions out there than the clunky, clumpy standards than come in sets of three and in a plastic bag.

Come on guys, there are benches in two long rows -- this is a runway and your choices matter.

So - I had the unfortunate experience of ending up next to a guy who, by all standards (I'm not even using the much more highly selective gay standards), broke every rule of lockerroom underwear fashion.

This guy was wearing his triple XL pair of blue Hanes OVER his belly. When I was young I used to wonder what I would do if I suddenly grew a belly. Would I be tucker and snug my underwear up under my belly or would I go over it. I truly never thought people would choose the latter, but this guy did. He looked a lot like a globe, with the southern hemisphere completely covered in a skeevy ocean. I choose ocean because when he put his foot up on the bench, his waves were jigglin' in front of my face.

Ah, just another day at the gym.