Many things are happening.

I have--wait for it!--repaired my weight bench.

It's a scavenged weight bench, a cheap-ass thing made with MDF. The MDF, having sat outside through winters and summers, disintegrated the moment I put any weight on it, so I had to sort of work around splintered woodlike substances and moldy foam. It was gross.

A couple of months ago, I took two sliding closet doors off a closet so I could put shelving in it. One of those closet doors--well, part of it, anyhow--became the new sitting-bits of my weight bench. You can't really go wrong with inch-thick hardwood plywood. It looks odd, since I haven't gotten around to putting padding on the thing, but it's usable.

The pads on the leg attachment were shedding bits of foam rubber, too, so I stuck some brightly-colored tube socks over them. I plan to put hot pink vinyl and foam rubber over the bench sometime soon. It'll be a psychedelic weight bench.

In other news, Attila and I have changed the way I lift.

Attila's real big on the light-weight, high-rep thing. I don't like that much: it's hard on the joints and it doesn't give me the size or definition I really want from weight training. Yeah, I'm strong, but I'm not strong *enough*, is another consideration.

So this week we shook things up and started heavy, heavy training. Eight reps to failure heavy. Holy shit, do my upper arms ever hurt heavy. I think I'll have to go buy some more plates heavy.

Shockingly, after only two sessions of yowza heavy lifting, I can already see changes in my shoulders and biceps. That's mostly due to the fact that they're pumped more than usual, but I think it's also that my body responds really well to lifting heavy things slowly. My brain responds well, too--the concentration that heavy lifting takes, along with attention to form, leaves me physically drained and mentally very clear after only 45 minutes.

There are some people who are just plain meant to lift heavy shit over and over, and I'm one of them. I'll never be a natural runner like my neighbors Pastor Paul and His Lovely Wife Val; they run something like nine miles a day and call it a warm-up. They're both tall and slender and gazelle-like, whereas I am short and stocky and thick-necked. However! When The Man of God was having trouble getting a washing machine into his truck, I was able to grab the strap he'd cinched around it, heave it up onto my knees, and balls it up into the bed of the pickup with effort but no injury.

You go ahead and run down that antelope. I'll haul it back to the campfire for you.

With that in mind, here's a particularly twisted little exercise Attila sprang on me this week:

**Nota Bene: please be aware that form is crucial in this exercise. You cannot slop around and not hurt yourself, so start light and go slow. Do it in front of a mirror or with somebody who can let you know when you're getting out of alignment.**

Grab yerself a barbell. It doesn't really matter what size, but I would recommend going lighter rather than heavier at first. I started with fifteen pounds and moved up to twenty, but don't go there if you're doubtful. Start with eight pounds, or five, or three. Form is key here.

Hold your arm straight out at shoulder height to the side. Keep your elbow soft.

Moving slowly and carefully, do a bicep curl until your knuckles are almost at your shoulder. Don't waggle, don't try to do this fast, and for God's sake, don't lock your elbow when you return to the starting position. That way lies disaster.

Do fewer reps and fewer sets than you think you can. Your muscles will fatigue quickly with this one.

Shockingly, this exercise takes quite a bit of balance. I was wearing normal Nikes during the workout, but would love to try this with MBTs on, for the challenge. Be aware that if you're hearing clicks from your elbow as you do this, you should definitely stop. Elbows are very hard to replace successfully.

Be prepared to be insanely, toxically sore two days after you do this, no matter how many reps or sets you do.

Also: Hack squats: they're totally doable without a machine. Again, it takes concentration and adjustment in front of a mirror or another person in order to maintain form, but it's worth it. (Hack squats, for the uninitiated, are a variation of the normal squat in which your body is aligned as though you're doing a wall-sit. Your back stays straight, you don't go down as far, and you scream differently on the third rep.)

Hack squats, however, are best done with a trainer who can lift the amount of weight you're squatting without injuring herself. Attila is one of those fast, coordinated, gazelle-like creatures, and is having difficulty moving the amount of weight I can handle. The last thing you want to hear when you gasp, "I can get through this set, but be ready to grab the bar" is a doubtful, "Er...okay?"

I think I might have to build a weight stand that's a little higher than the one on my bench, is what I'm saying.