"Thar She Blows"

One of the funniest men I know was asked by his trainer to sit on a Swiss ball to perform biceps curls. His response was typical, "What the hell's the capacity of that thing? If it blows, we'll all be outa here." The man, decimated by six heart operations and subsequent medication, weighed 320 pounds - a legitimate concern. The trainer opted for a sturdy bench.

Whatever advantage the trainer foresaw in sitting this giant on a Swiss ball to perform exercise was beyond my conception. Maybe it would have worked his core at the same time, a common two-for-one concept. And if it had (worked his core), big deal. It was too late - too little, too late.

The two facilities in which I work (NC and FL) are equipped with tons of toys - not my choice. From dusk 'til dawn, the toys are put to use by savvy trainers who spend half their nights dreaming up ideas to modify what was once exercise at its finest. They have reduced full-range exercise to a pile of rubble and kicked it out the door. They rarely use machines when good ones provide the only source of full-range exercise. They rarely use free-weights, another step up. They rarely use their head - maybe because this is how they've been trained, having been influenced by today's crop of experts who know little or nothing about real exercise. Regardless, we are stuck with rubber tubing and body-weight movements that do nothing more than satisfy the growing public need of "What's the easiest thing I can do and still call it exercise."

Easy solutions to physical problems are never the best way to go, they're the common way to go. I was highly influenced by Nautilus inventor Arthur Jones who spent a lifetime introducing HARDER solutions to exercise problems, both by method and machine. His advice, "Find a harder way to perform exercise, and it will be more productive" has fallen by the wayside. I'm sick of wading through latex to get to the good stuff. Donate the toys to the local nursery and get on with things as they should be. Sitting on a Swiss ball ain't gonna get it done.

I probably sound like my funny friend when he was telling me about trying to raise three million dollars for an addition to the baseball stadium at the university he attended (he was a star ballplayer in his era but became more famous for scoring the winning touchdown in the 1947 Rosebowl game by running back an 85-yard interception). The stadium was to be renamed after him, a fact of which he was very proud. As he related the story, a friend of his passed by and overheard the conversation. "Hell Ruck, they should have named the cafeteria after you."

"God damn it, God damn . . ." was all I heard him mumble. I wish the Swiss ball would have blown. Then we'd all be "outa here." It would certainly improve the state of exercise.