Triple Threat – Part Three by Wayne Assiratti


Let me start by saying that Mark Kelly is a nice man. I have had the great pleasure of knowing him for nearly 22 years. I consider him a great friend. It was only recently though I discovered his penchant for sadism. Mark has agreed to help me get back in shape as he is a
personal trainer and sports massage therapist.

Pretty Luscious Things Man About TownNow I’m in my late thirties, my body is paying the price of nearly twenty years of being lazy, smoking, drinking & eating what I want. To say I’m a bit “lardy” now is an understatement. I have been doing some exercises that Mark has given me to do at least three times a week just to get me and my body back in the groove of exercise. This week though, Mark wants to test my limits of fitness by putting my body through its paces.

So, with great trepidation I go to Mark’s place & before I undergo the test, he weighs me and takes some measurements. They are below as I believe in full disclosure:

Height - 6' (surprising, as I used to 6’1”)
Weight - 14st 10lbs (this was good news as three weeks ago I was 15st 2lbs)
Arms - both 12.5 inches
Chest - 42 inches

Waist - 39.5 inches (This figure makes me sad every time I read it)
Thighs - both 22 3/4
Calves - right 15 3/4, left - 15.5 inches

The fitness test went like this: One minute of exercise as fast as I could do it  & one minutes rest. Then onto the next one at full tilt until I had done all the following exercises. My main aim was to make it through & not throw up a lung.

To warm up Mark asked me to do as many push ups as I could. My arms gave out at 31. Mark said “not bad”. Then proceeded to tell me that I wasn’t doing them properly. Gives with one hand, takes away with the other. Then we went through the following routine in 14 minutes. Suffice to say, It can’t be described as my favourite 14 minutes of my life so far.

Switch Kicks. These can only be described as Cossack dancing on the spot. I managed 153 kicks in one minute. Not too shabby I thought. One minutes rest. 

Power Jacks. These are full on “Burpees”. Squat thrust, back onto your feet and jump up in the air. 46 in one minute. One minutes rest.

Power Knees. These are like doing a kickboxing knee strike on the spot. 30 seconds with one leg and thirty seconds with the other. 56 of these. I’m now starting to feel the pace and my legs are like lead. One minutes rest.

Globe Jumps. Imagine squatting down and jumping backwards to the same position, then the side and then forwards in a square. My thighs are not amused. I manage 10 and have to stop after twenty seconds as my head is spinning like a Roulette wheel. One minute & forty seconds rest.

Suicide Jumps. Jump up as high as you can bringing your knees up to your chest. I can do 12 after thirty seconds as I’m starting to shake all over like a washing machine on spin. One minute thirty seconds rest.

Push Up Jacks. Like the Power Jacks but with a push up at the bottom. You are having a Turkish sunshine, I can barely stand. I can do seven before collapse. One minute twenty seconds rest.

Low Plank Obliques. Imagine doing a normal push up, then after doing one, you then spread your legs wide and your arms too. Do another push up. Repeat till near death. I did five.

Now it’s all over, I feel like I have been hit by a bus. My arms and legs are so full of lactic acid that I can hardly move or feel them. I’m shaking like defecating dog. I sound like I have emphysema. I'm pouring sweat out of every pore. Mark calls this a starting point. I call this hell on stilts.

Mark then does some massage on my thighs and calves to get the lactic acid out. Let’s just say I wasn’t feeling like giving him a tip afterwards. Strangely though, driving home a feeling of deep euphoria comes over me. For a short amount of time I feel invincible. I have pushed my body to the limit and didn’t throw up. I’m proud of myself. I’m starting to think I can do this.

I’m back to my schedule of morning exercises and I have to visit Mark at least two or three times a week for “garage sessions”. It’s almost guaranteed there isn’t going to be any dancing. Catch up with me next week for more news on how I’m getting on. If I can use my fingers.

I’ll keep you posted. Catch up with me next week.

Keep up with Wayne Assiratti over @Twitter

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