I have a long-term client (for those coming late to the story, among my varied careers, I am a personal fitness trainer) whom I have been working with for nearly 7 years. When he came to me, he was fresh out of cardiac rehab and morbidly obese (I am using the phrase in the medical sense, not the esthetic sense). When we sat down to discuss his goals, and what he wanted from working with me, he stated that he wanted to avoid another heart attack and live long enough to see grandchildren. Oh yeah, if he could get to the point where he could reach to tie his own shoes, he would like that very much.
We’ve worked on cardiovascular training and endurance. We work on muscle strength. Balance, flexibility, and coordination work are all part of our routines.
Over the years (and it was a very slow start), we have gotten him from morbidly obese, to grossly obese to “merely” obese. He has 5 grandchildren that he delights in spoiling. The dosages for his cholesterol medications and his blood pressure medications and his heart medications have been cut. His memory is better. He passed his last 2 stress tests with flying colors. He no longer needs his sleep apnea mask and is no longer dependant on sleeping aids to sleep at night. Whereas, when he first came to me (or at least before the heart attack that drove him to consider a personal trainer), he was playing golf once a week, and had to avoid taking practice swings because he would exhaust himself otherwise, he now plays golf 3 or 4 times a week and every year for the last 5, he has broken his own records for drive lengths.
So what is he most outwardly pleased with? That he can now reach behind his back and grab one wrist with the other hand. He showed me this yesterday with great excitement (although I knew that he had been capable of this for a little while), and said “Look, Look! Now, if I get arrested, I can be handcuffed, without my shoulder muscles tearing!”
Monday at the Movies
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