- May 18, 2001
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Last night I was doing dumbbell decline bench at the gym. Just in case you aren't familiar with this exercise, I will describe it for you. You are lying on an inclined bench with your head on the downhill side, and your ankles braced under a bar, keeping your body from sliding downhill headfirst. The exercise otherwise resembles a normal bench press.
I had a 75 pound dumbbell in each hand, which for me is a lot of weight. I was on my third set, so I was getting pretty fatigued, and I had an old buddy from high school spotting me. To spot someone doing this exercise, the spotter pretty much stands over the weight lifter's head, poised to catch the weight if the lifter gives out.
That is pretty much what happened: I gave out. I told the spotter that I was going to try to force out one more rep, which I actually did. But when I got to the top of the "up" position, my elbows and wrists buckled and the weights quickly came down on my chest (luckily not my face).
My spotter panicked. He immediately jumped forward in an attempt to catch the weight, planting his nether regions right on the area where I would want them the least. I still had my wits about me, and in all the furor I decided the best course of action was to close my eyes, quit breathing, and just ride it out.
Thankfully, it was over in a matter of seconds, but the painful memory of those long moments will haunt me for life. And my buddies at the gym probably won't let this die down for months, or even years.
I may have to change gyms.
I had a 75 pound dumbbell in each hand, which for me is a lot of weight. I was on my third set, so I was getting pretty fatigued, and I had an old buddy from high school spotting me. To spot someone doing this exercise, the spotter pretty much stands over the weight lifter's head, poised to catch the weight if the lifter gives out.
That is pretty much what happened: I gave out. I told the spotter that I was going to try to force out one more rep, which I actually did. But when I got to the top of the "up" position, my elbows and wrists buckled and the weights quickly came down on my chest (luckily not my face).
My spotter panicked. He immediately jumped forward in an attempt to catch the weight, planting his nether regions right on the area where I would want them the least. I still had my wits about me, and in all the furor I decided the best course of action was to close my eyes, quit breathing, and just ride it out.
Thankfully, it was over in a matter of seconds, but the painful memory of those long moments will haunt me for life. And my buddies at the gym probably won't let this die down for months, or even years.
I may have to change gyms.
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