Pumping the Guns

Physio was the part of rehab where I knew I’d have to work.  It was the part that I’d looked forward to for nine months.  It was the part I’d dreaded for nine months. 

Once up and sitting it was made clear that I’d have to start working on building some upper body strength.  Even if I was being hoisted in and out of the chair I’d still need to be able to do some sort of pressure relieving from time to time so that the pressure wasn’t always going to be in the same areas whilst sitting.  I was told that one of the best ways to do this was to pressure lift.  By lifting my backside off the cushion for a few seconds every now and then it would reduce the chance pressure sores.  This meant hitting the weights machine and pumping some iron.

Back in the early noughties I’d lost a lot of weight.  This was done through diet and by going to the gym at least six times a week.  I’d be there at 6 am every morning before work and then again at least one evening, usually two or three evenings (sometimes I was lazy).  Pumping iron was never my thing.  I’d do the cycle, the treadmill, the cross trainer, I’d spend hours on the cross trainer, and in between those I’d spend some time with some of the weights machines.  But what weights machines I did use, were used for a cardiovascular workout.  It was never about building strength.  It was light(ish) weights with high reps.  Burning calories and toning, never building bulk. 

I hated weights training at the best of times, but now I was being told by the physio to build muscle mass and by the doctor to lose weight.  This I did struggle with, but as it was the physio that was going to get me home I had to concede that it was just one part of the long term plan.

I had physio for an hour five days a week and at least three of these days would be dedicated to weights.  The other two day would be plinth work as and when the doctor allowed, but this translated to weights four/five times a week for a good lot of the time as the doctor was always worried about me sitting on a plinth for any period of time. 

In those first weeks I rarely made the hour.  Repetitive heavy weights workouts are taxing, especially when you’ve not been near a weights machine in eight years.  Especially when you’ve been in bed doing very little for nine months.  Come the 45 minute mark I was usually done in, not to mention bored to death.  Over time I did build it up, but over time I also found other ways to spend my physio time. 

When I started physio I couldn’t engage my arms to even try and lift. The best I could do was rock forward a bit.  By the time I left hospital I could fully engage a lift and hold it for about 20 seconds.  Now if I had to I’m sure I could easily last three/four minutes although I have to be mindful of my shoulder sockets apparently.

The guns are now locked and loaded but are happily insulated so that passing wheelchair thieves will be taken by surprise if they try to hijack my chair.