The Routine I Don't Need to Improve
In the back of my garage, under some boxes, was a weight bench I bought in the late 1990s.
At the time, I'd bought a set of Soloflex dumbbells and a guide showing twelve exercises. I followed those exercises faithfully, but with a fairly ambitious approach to weight training.
Mondays were chest and back. Wednesdays were legs and calves. Fridays were shoulders and arms. I did several sets of each exercise, with weights heavy enough that the final repetitions were difficult. Sometimes I couldn't finish the last set at all.
It worked. I built enough muscle that other people noticed.
Eventually I stopped. Part of the reason was advice I heard at the time that strength training would interfere with my Tai Chi and Qigong practice.
I believed it then.
I don't anymore.
The original weights were eventually given away, but the bench stayed in the garage, mostly out of sight.
Three years ago, when I began taking better care of my health, I dug out the old bench and bought some new dumbbells.
At first I went back to the routine I remembered: several sets, gradually heavier weights, and working toward the point where my muscles couldn't do another repetition.
But this time I found it boring. I also managed to injure my wrist and, later, my shoulders.
So I tried something different.
I backed the weights all the way down to three pounds. After the way I'd trained years before, three pounds seemed almost ridiculous.
I also changed the routine. Instead of dividing the exercises among different days, I began doing all twelve in each session, one set of ten repetitions apiece.
That's essentially what I still do.
Three mornings a week, I begin with a little Qigong, move through the twelve dumbbell exercises, and finish with some Tai Chi.
I take short breaks along the way. Usually I have quiet acoustic guitar music playing, perhaps William Ackerman or another Windham Hill recording. Sometimes it's smooth jazz. Not necessarily what people imagine as weight-training music, but it suits me.
I haven't stayed at three pounds. Over time I've worked back up to around 25 or 27 pounds for most exercises. The weights are heavy enough that I feel the effort, but I stop well short of exhausting the muscles.
One of the things I like most about the routine is that I use the same weight for ten of the twelve exercises. My legs could certainly handle more than my shoulders or biceps. But I don't want to stop and change the weights every few minutes.
I like the flow of moving from one exercise to the next. The feel of the weights, the muscles doing their work, the steady rhythm of the movements. Sometimes, just as with walking, an idea I've been puzzling over becomes clearer while I'm doing them.
The most useful results aren't especially visible.
Nobody remarks on my muscles now. But I notice the difference when I lift something, carry groceries, bend down, or squat. Ordinary movements feel easier and more enjoyable.
The strength carries over into Tai Chi and Qigong, too. Far from interfering with those practices, it makes the movements feel more stable, better aligned, and more energetic.
When I'm done, I usually feel what I can only describe as a relaxed version of energized. My muscles know they've been worked, but I'm upbeat and ready to go on with the day. The short Tai Chi practice at the end helps that feeling settle.
I might increase the weights again someday. Before my shoulder injury I was using as much as 35 pounds, and I wouldn't mind returning to that if it feels right.
But I don't need to make that happen.
Right now, this amount of effort is doing what I want it to do.
The bench is the same one I used nearly thirty years ago.
Most of the exercises are the same, too.
But what I want from them has changed.
And for now, I don't have any particular reason to improve the routine.