I against I

To me training with a partner is like eating with utensils: I do so when I have the chance, but missing a fork won't stop me from having breakfast.

This particular story took place on one of those rare evenings when all the usual suspects at P&M have already paid their dues earlier during the day. An hour before closing time I was left alone with the booming stereo and a leg workout on the schedule.

Knowing there won't be any late-night enthusiasts dropping by I arranged a decent playlist on my faithful Mp3 headset, sorted any remaining plates and dumbbells lying around the gym, locked the doors and proceeded to the squat rack.

I'm not planning on wasting your time with yet another list of exercises and rep/set ranges. Arnold forbid the Internet has plenty of those. Though detailed info is mandatory in certain cases, this post will have to do without such. Shaming confession incoming: Back then I wasn't keeping a solid log on my activities. >.<

What followed was a killer session which left my legs begging for a wheelchair. At the end I was so trashed that reracking the weights felt like wrestling small, oily 45 lbs boars in packs of two. When moving iron under the sound of Maynard Keenan's voice, at this time of night, you're no longer working out - you're fighting against whatever creepy s**t is lurking in the deep recesses of your mind!

I honestly don't know how much I squatted that night. Pounds and time were a blur. The workout wasn't about that at all. I blasted through the exercises, one after the other, enjoying the cool air drifting through the open windows and looking at the flashing city lights in-between sets.
 
A most emotionally recharging experience, I'll give it that. No wonder my colleague prefers to work out late in the evening. :) Don't get me wrong, I've done my fair share of night sessions back in my street days. Nonetheless, that night at the gym was a reminder of how rewarding - in more ways than one - such an unconventional workout could be.