Betrayed By My Body

Working out without a goal has always seemed futile to me.  I mean, the general goals of looking good and feeling healthy make sense, and those are things I desire.  But eventually, motivation runs out and monotony sets in.  Unless I am resolved to hit some mark, I can find plenty of excuses to stop lifting.  

Following my bicycling accident last May, I lost nearly 25 pounds.  Some of it was due to change in diet before, but a lot was due to inactivity during my recovery process.  Since mid-July, however, the leg has been feeling good enough (and needing rehab) to allow me to start lifting again.  

In college I had a goal of bench pressing 225 pounds.  Not as a one rep max, but as multiple repetitions in a set.  I found a plan, followed the plan, and was successful in meeting that goal.  But where do you go from there?  I didn't want to become a power lifter.  And now I don't really care about how much I can lift--I only care that I look a certain way (vain, I know).  And I want to look big.  So I've set a goal to put on 30 pounds of muscle in the next 3 months.  I know it's impossible, but if it weren't audacious it wouldn't be worth doing.  Since July I've regained the weight I lost and added 10 pounds, so that I'm now 180 lbs.  I've tried to do this two other times in my life--once in Minnesota when I was about 24 or 25 and once a few years back.  Now I'm 32 and I know that if I don't hit the mark this time this will be my last try.  I don't really care if I even hit it.  In Minnesota I only made it to 185 lbs.  At least I have a goal, and that motivates me.  

Anyway, I'm telling you all this because my body is starting to rebel.  In August, while swinging the weights to my shoulders for incline bench press, I strained the muscle/tendon of my left bicep.  I've tried to lay off it, even taking a whole week off of everything, but I guess I didn't wait long enough.  

Yesterday was my first back and biceps day under my new program.  I did concentration curls...and I'm pretty sure I tore my bicep.  Maybe not a big tear.  Perhaps a tiny little rip.  It's not a big deal, I don't think, because my arm doesn't hurt.  It's just that when I woke up this morning I saw this:

After doing some internet searching, I found several discussion boards and one informational site that said such a bruise could be a result of straining or tearing your muscle.  So I guess I'll be taking it easy on that arm for the next couple weeks.  

I should have known, though.  I'm getting older--I have to keep reminding myself of that fact.  My hair is trying to help me remember.  I've kept it short all summer, but now that I'm growing it out (for a glorious, well-thought-out plan, I might add) there is a white stripe that is visible above the left side of my forehead.

But that's life I guess.  You get older and your body breaks down on you.  I can't really complain, though.  It's held up pretty well so far.  My left leg is mostly healed (I feel the screw poking into my tendon now more than I feel the site of the break), and I hope to get an "all clear" report at my appointment in late October.  I'll just try and slow down a little bit and not do any more breaking than I need to.