VLOG 137: Returning Stronger, Shakier, and Slightly Funnier
Oh, it feels good to be back.
After nearly a month in Newfoundland, filming puffins, hiking cliffs, and surviving on scenery and gas station snacks, I hadn’t touched a gym. Unless you count chasing my little cousin around the house and a few desperate sets of abs on hardwood floors. Today is the reset. The comeback. The return to iron.
We kick off with the basics. Pushups that feel like a betrayal. Pull Ups that offer a tiny flicker of hope. From there, we go into a full body split. No half measures. Just chaos and effort. My shoulders? Unforgivably soft. So I start there. A little warmup with 115 pounds on the shoulder press. That weight used to feel light. Today, it feels like justice.
Being back in America means one thing: pounds instead of kilograms. Freedom units. There’s comfort in familiarity, even when it hurts.
Then it’s off to the hip adductors. Or abductors. Honestly, I still get them reversed. Dyslexic brain doing its thing. The difference between ADD and AB may not mean much to me mid set, but I do know this. 250 pounds is enough to make me question all my life choices. In a good way.
We move on to bicep curls. 200 pounds. That’s what the machine says. My arms disagree. They protest. Loudly. And I let them.
Colin leads the chest press. If you’ve seen previous vlogs, you know the deal: elbows in, tension tight, no shortcuts. The man’s a legend in that department. My camera is crooked. I could fix it. But really, aren’t we all a little tilted these days?
Then a moment I didn’t expect. An older gentleman, someone we’ve seen at this gym before, stops by for a quick chat. He notices the posture, the effort. We talk about strength, about why we train, about what it means to carry yourself well. He cracks a few jokes, makes a few observations, and reminds me that showing up is half the work. Real recognize real.
Next up: isolateral low rows. Colin loads the bar with four 45s on each side. The big ones. We call them pizzas because when you stack them up like that, they look like an entire delivery order. Heavy, round, and intimidating. My turn comes, and I’m dragging through it. 250 pounds. I asked how many reps I’d manage. The answer was five and a quarter. And that quarter rep? That was pure grit.
Then weighted dips with plates hanging from me like a medieval punishment. Then chest flies. Then the return of the legendary gym banter, a mix of suffering and sarcasm.
Colin moves into calf raises, taking it easy on his healing foot. If you’re caught up on the vlogs, you’ll know he shattered it in a motorcycle accident. He’s back now, mostly. But we still clown on him for it. As brothers do.
Then we finish with forearm work. And I mean finish. By the end, I feel like a NASCAR announcer stuck in a loop. Left turn. Another left turn. And now a forearm burnout. At one point I joked that you’d say, “Chris, it looks so much easier when you do it. You’re so much cooler than Colin.” And while I appreciate the sentiment, I may have spoken too soon. My arms are shaking. My camera’s trembling. And I’m running on zero carbs and high hopes.
But I’m here. Back in the gym. Back in the story. And that’s what matters.
This vlog isn’t about perfection. It’s about return. About showing up when it’s easier not to. About rebuilding from wherever you are.
Because strength is not in how much you lift. It’s in how many times you’re willing to start again.
“First say to yourself what you would be, and then do what you have to do.”
Epictetus
You’re always welcome in this space.
Christopher
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